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    Title: Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics
           Embracing the Myths, Traditions, Superstitions, and
                  Folk-Lore of the Plant Kingdom

    Author: Richard Folkard

    Release Date: January 9, 2014 [EBook #44638]

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The Garden of Eden
from John Parkinson’s “Paradisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris.”

1656

# PLANT LORE, LEGENDS, and LYRICS.

EMBRACING THE
Myths, Traditions, Superstitions, and Folk-Lore of the Plant Kingdom.

BY
RICHARD FOLKARD, JUN.

LONDON:
Sampson Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington,
Crown Buildings, 188, Fleet Street.

1884.
[All Rights Reserved.]

PRINTED BY R. FOLKARD AND SON,
22, DEVONSHIRE STREET, QUEEN SQUARE, BLOOMSBURY,
LONDON, W.C.

## PREFACE.

Having, some few years ago, been associated in the conduct of a journal devoted to horticulture, I amassed for literary purposes much of the material made use of in the present volume. Upon the discontinuance of the journal, I resolved to classify and arrange the plant lore thus accumulated, with a view to its subsequent publication, and I have since been enabled to enrich the collection with much Continental and Indian lore (which I believe is quite unknown to the great majority of English readers) from the vast store to be found in Signor De Gubernatis’ volumes on plant tradition, a French edition of which appeared two years ago, under the title of La Mythologie des Plantes. To render the present work comprehensive and at the same time easy of reference, I have divided the volume into two sections, the first of which is, in point of fact, a digest of the second; and I have endeavoured to enhance its interest by introducing some few reproductions of curious illustrations pertaining to the subjects treated of. Whilst preferring no claim for anything beyond the exercise of considerable industry, I would state that great care and attention has been paid to the revision of the work, and that as I am both author and printer of my book, I am debarred in that dual capacity from even palliating my mistakes by describing them as “errors of the press.” In tendering my acknowledgments to Prof. De Gubernatis and other authors I have consulted on the various branches of my subject, I would draw attention to the annexed list of the principal works to which reference is made in these pages.

RICHARD FOLKARD, Jun.

Cricklewood, August, 1884.

## Principal Works Referred to.

- Adams, H. C. ‘Flowers; their Moral, Language, and Poetry.’
- Albertus Magnus. De Mirabilibus Mundi.
- Aldrovandus. Ornithologia.
- Bacon, Lord. ‘Sylva Sylvarum,’ and ‘Essay on Gardens.’
- Bauhin, C. De plantis a divis sanctisve nomen habentibus (1591).
- Brand, J. ‘Popular Antiquities.’
- Bright, H. A. ‘A Year in a Lancashire Garden.’
- Campbell, J. F. ‘Tales of the Western Highlands.’
- ‘Choice Notes from Notes and Queries.’
- Coles, W. ‘Adam in Eden’ (1657); and ‘The Art of Simpling’ (1656).
- ‘The Compleat English Gardener’ (1683).
- ‘The Countryman’s Recreation’ (1640).
- Croker, T. C. ‘Fairy Legends of the South of Ireland.’
- Culpeper, N. ‘British Herbal.’
- Cutts, Rev. E. ‘Decoration of Churches.’
- Darwin, E. ‘The Botanic Garden’: a Poem.
- Dasent, Sir G. W. ‘Popular Tales from the Norse.’
- Daubeny, C. ‘Trees and Shrubs of the Ancients.’
- Day, Rev. Lal Behari. ‘Folk-Tales of Bengal.’
- De Gubernatis, A. La Mythologie des Plantes; ou les Légendes du Règne Végétal.
- Dixon, W. G. ‘The Land of the Morning: Japan.’
- ‘The Dutch Gardener’ (1703).
- Dyer, Rev. T. F. ‘English Folk-lore.’
- Ennemoser, J. ‘History of Magic.’
- Evelyn, J. ‘Sylva: a Discourse of Forest Trees’ (1662); ‘The French Gardener’ (1658); and ‘Kalendarium Hortense’ (1664).
- ‘The Expert Gardener’ (1640).
- ‘The Fairy Family.’
- Farrer, J. A. ‘The Names of Flowers’ (In ‘Cornhill Magazine,’ Vol. XLV.).
- Fitzherbarde, Sir Anthony. ‘Boke of Husbandry’ (1523).
- Fleetwood, Bishop. ‘Curiosities of Nature and Art in Husbandry and Gardening’ (1707).
- ‘Flower Lore’ (M’Caw & Co., Belfast).
- Gerarde, J. ‘The Herbal; or, General Historie of Plantes.’ Edited by Johnson (1633).
- Grimm, J. ‘Teutonic Mythology’ (Translated by Stallybrass.)
- Henderson, W. ‘Folk-lore of the Northern Counties.’
- Hunt, R. ‘Popular Romances of the West of England.’
- Ingram, J. ‘Flora Symbolica.’
- Jameson, Mrs. ‘Sacred and Legendary Art’; ‘Legends of the Monastic Orders’; and ‘Legends of the Madonna.’
- Karr, Alphonse. ‘A Tour Round my Garden.’
- Kelly, W. K. ‘Curiosities of Indo-European Tradition and Folk-lore.’
- Kent, Miss. ‘Flora Domestica,’ and ‘Sylvan Sketches.’
- King, R. J. ‘Sketches and Studies.’
- Kircherus. De Luce et Umbra, Ars Magnetica, &c.
- ‘The Language of Flowers’ (Saunders and Otley).
- Liger, Louis. ‘The Retired Gardener’ (1717).
- Loudon, J. C. ‘Encyclopædia of Gardening.’
- Loudon, Mrs. ‘Companion to the Flower Garden.’
- Macer Floridus. De Viribus Herbarum (1527).
- Mallet, M. ‘Northern Antiquities.’
- Mannhardt, Prof. Baumkultus der Germanen; Germanische Mythen; and Wald- und Feld-Kulte.
- Marmier, X. Légendes des Plantes.
- Marshall, S. ‘Plant Symbolism’ (In ‘Natural History Notes,’ Vol. II.).
- Martyn, Thos. ‘Miller’s Gardener’s and Botanist’s Dictionary.’
- Matthiolus. De Plantis (1585).
- Maundevile, Sir John. ‘Voiage and Travaile’ (Edit. 1725).
- Mentzelius, C. Index Nominum Plantarum Multilinguis (1682).
- Moore, T. ‘Lalla Rookh.’
- Müller, Max. ‘Selected Essays.’
- Murray, E. C. G. ‘Songs and Legends of Roumania.’
- Newton, W. ‘Display of Heraldry.’
- Nork. Mythologie der Volkssagen.
- Oldenburg, Dr. H. ‘Buddha: his Life, Doctrine, and Order.’
- Parkinson, J. ‘Paradisi in Sole: Paradisus Terrestris’ (1656).
- Paxton, Sir Joseph. ‘Botanical Dictionary.’
- Percival, Rev. P. ‘The Land of the Veda.’
- Phillips, J. ‘Flora Historical.’
- Pirie, M. ‘Flowers, Grasses, and Shrubs.’
- Plat, Sir Hugh, Knt. ‘The Garden of Eden’ (1600).
- Pliny. ‘Natural History.’
- Porta, J. B. Phytognomica (1588).
- Pratt, A. ‘Flowering Plants and Ferns of Great Britain.’
- Prior, Dr. ‘Popular Names of British Plants.’
- Ralston, W. R. ‘Forest and Field Myths’ (In ‘Contemporary Review,’ Vol. XXXI.).
- Rapin, R. De Hortorum Cultura (Gardiner’s trans., 1665).
- Rawlinson, Rev. G. ‘The Religions of the Ancient World.’
- Reade, W. W. ‘The Veil of Isis; or, the Mysteries of the Druids.’
- Rea, J. ‘Flora, Ceres, and Pomona’ (1665).
- Rimmel, E. ‘The Book of Perfumes.’
- The ‘Royal and Imperial Dream Book.’
- Sawyer, F. E. ‘Sussex Folk-lore and Customs.’
- Shway Yoe. ‘The Burman: his Life and Notions.’
- Thorpe, B. ‘Yule-tide Stories.’
- Tighe, W. ‘The Plants’: a Poem.
- Timbs, J. ‘Popular Errors;’ ‘Curiosities of History;’ and ‘Things Not Generally Known.’
- Turner, Robert. ‘Botanologia: The Brittish Physician; or, the Nature and Vertues of English Plants’ (1687).
- Turner, W. ‘The Herball.’
- Tusser, Thomas. ‘Five Hundred Points of Husbandry’ (1562).
- White, Rev. Gilbert. ‘Natural History of Selborne.’
- Wilkinson, Sir G. ‘The Ancient Egyptians.’
- Zahn, J. Speculæ Physico-Mathematico-Historicæ (1696).

## TABLE OF CONTENTS.

## List of Illustrations.

The head and tail pieces on pp. xiii., xxiv., 1, 8, 20, 21, 26, 40, 64, 74, 116, 136, 164, 175, 200, 592, and 610, are reproductions from originals in old herbals, &c.

## Part the First.

### INTRODUCTION.

The analogy existing between the vegetable and animal worlds, and the resemblances between human and tree life, have been observed by man from the most remote periods of which we have any records. Primitive man, watching the marvellous changes in trees and plants, which accurately marked not only the seasons of the year, but even the periods of time in a day, could not fail to be struck with a feeling of awe at the mysterious invisible power which silently guided such wondrous and incomprehensible operations. Hence it is not astonishing that the early inhabitants of the earth should have invested with supernatural attributes the tree, which in the gloom and chill of Winter stood gaunt, bare, and sterile, but in the early Spring hastened to greet the welcome warmth-giving Sun by investing itself with a brilliant canopy of verdure, and in the scorching heat of Summer afforded a refreshing shade beneath its leafy boughs. So we find these men of old, who had learnt to reverence the mysteries of vegetation, forming conceptions of vast cosmogonic world- or cloud-trees overshadowing the universe; mystically typifying creation and regeneration, and yielding the divine ambrosia or food of immortality, the refreshing and life-inspiring rain, and the mystic fruit which imparted knowledge and wisdom to those who partook of it. So, again, we find these nebulous overspreading world-trees connected with the mysteries of death, and giving shelter to the souls of the departed in the solemn shade of their dense foliage.

Looking upon vegetation as symbolical of life and generation, man, in course of time, connected the origin of his species with these shadowy cloud-trees, and hence arose the belief that humankind first sprang from Ash and Oak-trees, or derived their being from Holda, the cloud-goddess who combined in her person the form of a lovely woman and the trunk of a mighty tree. In after years trees were almost universally regarded either as sentient beings or as constituting the abiding places of spirits whose existence was bound up in the lives of the trees they inhabited. Hence arose the conceptions of Hamadryads, Dryads, Sylvans, Tree-nymphs, Elves, Fairies, and other beneficent spirits who peopled forests and dwelt in individual trees—not only in the Old World, but in the dense woods of North America, where the Mik-amwes, like Puck, has from time immemorial frolicked by moonlight in the forest openings. Hence, also, sprang up the morbid notion of trees being haunted by demons, mischievous imps, ghosts, nats, and evil spirits, whom it was deemed by the ignorant and superstitious necessary to propitiate by sacrifices, offerings, and mysterious rites and dances. Remnants of this superstitious tree-worship are still extant in some European countries. The Irminsul of the Germans and the Central Oak of the Druids were of the same family as the Asherah of the Semitic nations. In England, this primeval superstition has its descendants in the village maypole bedizened with ribbons and flowers, and the Jack-in-the-Green with its attendant devotees and whirling dancers. The modern Christmas-tree, too, although but slightly known in Germany at the beginning of the present century, is evidently a remnant of the pagan tree-worship; and it is somewhat remarkable that a similar tree is common among the Burmese, who call it the Padaytha-bin. This Turanian Christmas-tree is made by the inhabitants of towns, who deck its Bamboo twigs with all sorts of presents, and pile its roots with blankets, cloth, earthenware, and other useful articles. The wealthier classes contribute sometimes a Ngway Padaytha, or silver Padaytha, the branches of which are hung with rupees and smaller silver coins wrapped in tinsel or coloured paper. These trees are first carried in procession, and afterwards given to monasteries on the occasion of certain festivals or the funerals of Buddhist monks. They represent the wishing-tree, which, according to Burmese mythology, grows in the Northern Island and heaven of the nats or spirits, where it bears on its fairy branches whatever may be wished for.

The ancient conception of human trees can be traced in the superstitious endeavours of ignorant peasants to get rid of diseases by transferring them to vicarious trees, or rather to the spirits who are supposed to dwell in them; and it is the same idea that impels simple rustics to bury Elder-sticks and Peach-leaves to which they have imparted warts, &c. The recognised analogy between the life of plants and that of man, and the cherished superstition that trees were the homes of living and sentient spirits, undoubtedly influenced the poets of the ancients in forming their conceptions of heroes and heroines metamorphosed into trees and flowers; and traces of the old belief are to be found in the custom of planting a tree on the birth of an infant; the tree being thought to symbolise human life in its destiny of growth, production of fruit, and multiplication of its species; and, when fully grown, giving shade, shelter, and protection. This pleasant rite is still extant in our country as well as in Germany, France, Italy, and Russia; and from it has probably arisen a custom now becoming very general of planting a tree to commemorate any special occasion. Nor is the belief confined to the Old World, for Mr. Leland has quite recently told us that he observed near the tent of a North American Indian two small evergreens, which were most carefully tended. On enquiry he found the reason to be that when a child is born, or is yet young, its parent chooses a shrub, which growing as the child grows, will, during the child’s absence, or even in after years, indicate by its appearance whether the human counterpart be ill or well, alive or dead. In one of the Quādi Indian stories it is by means of the sympathetic tree that the hero learns his brother’s death.

In the middle ages, the old belief in trees possessing intelligence was utilised by the monks, who have embodied the conception in many mediæval legends, wherein trees are represented as bending their boughs and offering their fruits to the Virgin and her Divine Infant. So, again, during the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt, trees are said to have opened and concealed the fugitives from Herod’s brutal soldiery. Certain trees (notably the Aspen) are reputed to have been accursed and to have shuddered and trembled ever after on account of their connexion with the tragedy of Calvary; while others are said to have undergone a similar doom because they were attainted by the suicide of the traitor Judas Iscariot.

Seeing that the reverence and worship paid to trees by the ignorant and superstitious people was an institution impossible to uproot, the early Christian Church sought to turn it to account, and therefore consecrated old and venerated trees, built shrines beneath their shade, or placed on their trunks crucifixes and images of the Blessed Virgin. Legends connecting trees with holy personages, miracles, and sacred subjects were, in after years, freely disseminated; one of the most remarkable being the marvellous history of the Tree of Adam, in which it is sought to connect the Tree of Paradise with the Tree of Calvary. Evelyn summarises this misty tradition in the following sentence:—“Trees and woods have twice saved the whole world: first, by the Ark, then by the Cross; making full amends for the evil fruit of the tree in Paradise by that which was borne on the tree in Golgotha.” In course of time the flowers and plants which the ancients had dedicated to their pagan deities were transferred by the Christian Church to the shrines of the Virgin and sainted personages; this is especially noticeable in the plants formerly dedicated to Venus and Freyja, which, as being the choicest as well as the most popular, became, in honour of the Virgin Mary, Our Lady’s plants. Vast numbers of flowers were in course of time appropriated by the Church, and consecrated to her saints and martyrs—the selection being governed generally by the fact that the flower bloomed on or about the day on which the Church celebrated the saint’s feast. These appropriations enabled the Roman Catholics to compile a complete calendar of flowers for every day in the year, in which each flower is dedicated to a particular saint.

But if the most beautiful flowers and plants were taken under the protection of the Church, and dedicated to the memory of her holiest and most venerated members, so, also, certain trees, plants, and flowers—which, either on account of their noxious properties, or because of some legendary associations, were under a ban—became relegated to the service of the Devil and his minions. Hence we find a large group of plants associated with enchanters, sorcerers, wizards and witches, many of which betray in their nomenclature their Satanic association, and are, even at the present day, regarded suspiciously as ill-omened and unlucky. These are the plants which, in the dark days of witchcraft and superstition, were invested with mysterious and magical properties,—the herbs which were employed by hags and witches in their heathenish incantations, and from which they brewed their potions and hell-broths. Thus Ben Jonson, in his fragment, ‘The Sad Shepherd,’ makes one of his characters say, when speaking of a witch:—

“He knows her shifts and haunts,
And all her wiles and turns. The venom’d plants
Wherewith she kills! where the sad Mandrake grows,
Whose groans are dreadful! the dead-numming Nightshade!
The stupefying Hemlock! Adder’s-tongue!
And Martagan!”

The association of plants with magic, sorcery, and the black art dates from remote times. The blind Norse god Hödr slew Baldr with a twig of Mistletoe. In the battles recorded in the Vedas as being fought by the gods and the demons, the latter employ poisonous and magical herbs which the gods counteract with counter-poisons and health-giving plants. Hermes presented to Ulysses the magical Moly wherewith to nullify the effects of the potions and spells of the enchantress Circe, who was well acquainted with all sorts of magical herbs. The Druids professed to know the secrets of many magical plants which they gathered with mysterious and occult rites. The Vervain, Selago, Mistletoe, Oak, and Rowan were all said by these ancient priests and lawgivers to be possessed of supernatural properties; and remnants of the old belief in their magical powers are still extant.

In works on the subject of plant lore hitherto published in England, scarcely any reference has been made to the labours in the field of comparative mythology of Max Müller, Grimm, Kuhn, Mannhardt, De Gubernatis, and other eminent scholars, whose erudite and patient investigations have resulted in the accumulation of a vast amount of valuable information respecting the traditions and superstitions connected with the plant kingdom. Mr. Kelly’s interesting work on Indo-European Tradition, published some years ago, dealt, among other subjects, with that of plant lore, and drew attention to the analogy existing between the myths and folk-lore of India and Europe relating more especially to plants which were reputed to possess magical properties. Among such plants, peculiar interest attaches to a group which, according to Aryan tradition, sprang from lightning—the embodiment of fire, the great quickening agent: this group embraces the Hazel, the Thorn, the Hindu Sami, the Hindu Palasa, with its European congener the Rowan, and the Mistletoe: the two last-named plants were, as we have seen, employed in Druidic rites. These trees are considered of good omen and as protectives against sorcery and witchcraft: from all of them wishing-rods (called in German Wünschelruthen) and divining-rods have been wont to be fashioned—magical wands with which, in some countries, cattle are still struck to render them prolific, hidden springs are indicated, and mineral wealth is discovered. Such a rod was thought to be the caduceus of the god Hermes, or Mercury, described by Homer as being a rod of prosperity and wealth. All these rods are cut with a forked end, a shape held to be symbolic of lightning and a rude effigy of the human form. It is interesting to note that in the Rigveda the human form is expressly attributed to the pieces of Asvattha wood used for kindling the sacred fire—a purpose fulfilled by the Thorn in the chark or instrument employed for producing fire by the Greeks. Another group of plants also connected with fire and lightning comprises the Mandrake (the root of which is forked like the human form), the Fern Polypodium Filix mas (which has large pinnate leaves), the Sesame (called in India Thunderbolt-flower), the Spring-wort, and the Luck-flower. The Mandrake and Fern, like King Solomon’s Baharas, are said to shine at night, and to leap about like a Will-o’the-wisp: indeed, in Thuringia, the Fern is known as Irrkraut, or Misleading Herb, and in Franche Comté this herb is spoken of as causing belated travellers to become light-headed or thunder-struck. The Mandrake-root and the Fern-seed have the magical property of granting the desires of their possessors, and in this respect resemble the Sesame and Luck-flower, which at their owners’ request will disclose treasure-caves, open the sides of mountains, clefts of rocks, or strong doors, and in fact render useless all locks, bolts, and bars, at will. The Spring-wort, through the agency of a bird, removes obstacles by means of an explosion caused by the electricity or lightning of which this plant is an embodiment. Akin to these are plants known in our country as Lunary or Moonwort and Unshoe-the-Horse, and called by the Italians Sferracavallo—plants which possess the property of unshoeing horses and opening locks. A Russian herb, the Rasrivtrava, belongs to the same group: this plant fractures chains and breaks open locks—virtues also claimed for the Vervain (Eisenkraut), the Primrose (Schlüsselblume), the Fern, and the Hazel. It should be noted of the Mistletoe (which is endowed by nature with branches regularly forked, and has been classified with the lightning-plants), that the Swedes call it “Thunder-besom,” and attribute to it the same powers as to the Spring-wort. Like the Fly-Rowan (Flög-rönn) and the Asvattha, it is a parasite, and is thought to spring from seeds dropped by birds upon trees. Just as the Druids ascribed peculiar virtues to a Mistletoe produced by this means on an Oak, so do the Hindus especially esteem an Asvattha which has grown in like manner upon a Sami (Acacia Suma).

It is satisfactory to find that, although the Devil has had certain plants allotted to him wherewith to work mischief and destruction through the agency of demons, sorcerers, and witches, there are yet a great number of plants whose special mission it is to thwart Satanic machinations, to protect their owners from the dire effects of witchcraft or the Evil Eye, and to guard them from the perils of thunder and lightning. In our own country, Houseleek and Stonecrop are thought to fulfil this latter function; in Westphalia, the Donnerkraut (Orpine) is a thunder protective; in the Tyrol, the Alpine Rose guards the house-roof from lightning; and in the Netherlands, the St. John’s Wort, gathered before sunrise, is deemed a protection against thunderstorms. This last plant is especially hateful to evil spirits, and in days gone by was called Fuga dæmonum, dispeller of demons. In Russia, a plant, called the Certagon, or Devil-chaser, is used to exorcise Satan or his fiends if they torment an afflicted mourner; and in the same country the Prikrit is a herb whose peculiar province it is to destroy calumnies with which mischief-makers may seek to interfere with the consummation of lovers’ bliss. Other plants induce concord, love, and sympathy, and others again enable the owner to forget sorrow.

Plants connected with dreams and visions have not hitherto received much notice; but, nevertheless, popular belief has attributed to some few—and notably the Elm, the Four-leaved Clover, and the Russian Son-trava—the subtle power of procuring dreams of a prophetic nature. Numerous plants have been thought by the superstitious to portend certain results to the sleeper when forming the subject of his or her dreams. Many examples of this belief will be found scattered through these pages.

The legends attached to flowers may be divided into four classes—the mythological, the ecclesiastical, the historical, and the poetical. For the first-named we are chiefly indebted to Ovid, and to the Jesuit René Rapin, whose Latin poem De Hortorum Cultura contains much curious plant lore current in his time. His legends, like those of Ovid, nearly all relate to the transformation by the gods of luckless nymphs and youths into flowers and trees, which have since borne their names. Most of them refer to the blossoms of bulbous plants, which appear in the early Spring; and, as a rule, white flowers are represented as having originated from tears, and pink or red flowers from blushes or blood. The ecclesiastical legends are principally due to the old Catholic monks, who, while tending their flowers in the quietude and seclusion of monastery gardens, doubtless came to associate them with the memory of some favourite saint or martyr, and so allowed their gentle fancy to weave a pious fiction wherewith to perpetuate the memory of the saint in the name of the flower. For many of the historical legends we are also indebted to monastic writers, and they mostly pertain to favourite sons and daughters of the Church. Amongst what we have designated poetical legends must be included the numerous fairy tales in which flowers and plants play a not unimportant part, as well as the stories which connect plants with the doings of Trolls, Elves, Witches, and Demons. Many such legends, both English and foreign, will be found introduced in the following pages.

It has recently become the fashion to explain the origin of myths and legends by a theory which makes of them mere symbols of the phenomena appertaining to the solar system, or metaphors of the four seasons and the different periods in a day’s span. Thus we are told that, in the well-known story of the transformation of Daphne into a Laurel-bush, to enable her to escape the importunities of Apollo (see p. 404), we ought not to conceive the idea of the handsome passionate god pursuing a coy nymph until in despair she calls on the water-gods to change her form, but that, on the contrary, we should regard the whole story as simply an allegory implying that “the dawn rushes and trembles through the sky, and fades away at the sudden appearance of the bright sun.” So, again, in the myth of Pan and Syrinx (p. 559), in which the Satyr pursues the maiden who is transformed into the Reed from which Pan fashioned his pipes, the meaning intended to be conveyed is, we are told, that the blustering wind bends and breaks the swaying Rushes, through which it rustles and whistles. Prof. De Gubernatis, in his valuable work La Mythologie des Plantes, gives a number of clever explanations of old legends and myths, in accordance with the “Solar” theory, which are certainly ingenious, if somewhat monotonous. Let us take, as an example, the German story of the Watcher of the Road, which appears at page 326. In this tale a lovely princess, abandoned for a rival by her attractive husband, pines away, and at last desiring to die if only she can be sure of going somewhere where she may always watch for him, is transformed into the wayside Endive or Succory. Here is the Professor’s explanation:—“Does not the fatal rival of the young princess, who cries herself to death on account of her dazzling husband’s desertion, and who even in death desires still to gaze on him, symbolise the humid night, which every evening allures the sun to her arms, and thus keeps him from the love of his bride, who awakens every day with the sun, just as does the flower of the Succory?” These scientific elucidations of myths, however dexterous and poetical they may be, do not appear to us applicable to plant legends, whose chief charm lies in their simplicity and appositeness; nor can we imagine why Aryan or other story-tellers should be deemed so destitute of inventive powers as to be obliged to limit all their tales to the description of celestial phenomena. In the Vedas, trees, flowers, and herbs are invoked to cause love, avert evil and danger, and neutralise spells and curses. The ancients must, therefore, have had an exalted idea of their nature and properties, and hence it is not surprising that they should have dedicated them to their deities, and that these deities should have employed them for supernatural purposes. Thus Indra conquered Vritra and slew demons by means of the Soma; Hermes presented the all-potent Moly to Ulysses; and Medea taught Jason how to use certain enchanted herbs; just as, later in the world’s history, Druids exorcised evil spirits with Mistletoe and Vervain, and sorcerers and wise women used St. John’s Wort and other plants to ward off demons and thunderbolts. The ancients evidently regarded their gods and goddesses as very human, and therefore it would seem unnecessary and unjust so to alter their tales about them as to explain away their obvious meaning.

Flowers are the companions of man throughout his life—his attendants to his last resting place. They are, as Mr. Ruskin says, precious always “to the child and the girl, the peasant and the manufacturing operative, to the grisette and the nun, the lover and the monk.” Nature, in scattering them over the earth’s surface, would seem to have designed to cheer and refresh its inhabitants by their varied colouring and fragrance, and to elevate them by their wondrous beauty and delicacy; from them, as old Parkinson truly wrote, “we may draw matter at all times, not onely to magnifie the Creator that hath given them such diversities of forms, sents, and colours, that the most cunning workman cannot imitate, ... but many good instructions also to our selves; that as many herbs and flowers, with their fragrant sweet smels do comfort and as it were revive the spirits, and perfume a whole house, even so such men as live vertuously, labouring to do good, and profit the Church, God, and the common wealth by their pains or pen, do as it were send forth a pleasing savour of sweet instructions.” The poet Wordsworth reminds us that

“God made the flowers to beautify
The earth, and cheer man’s careful mood;
And he is happiest who hath power
To gather wisdom from a flower,
And wake his heart in every hour
To pleasant gratitude.”

In these pages will be found many details as to the use of these beauteous gems of Nature, both by the ancient races of the world and by the people of our own generation; their adaptation to the Church’s ceremonial and to popular festivals; their use as portents, symbols, and emblems; and their employment as an adornment of the graves of loved ones. Much more could have been written, had space permitted, regarding their value to the architect and the herald. The Acanthus, Lotus, Trefoil, Lily, Vine, Ivy, Pomegranate, Oak, Palm, Acacia, and many other plants have been reproduced as ornaments by the sculptor, and it is a matter of tradition that to the majestic aspect of an avenue of trees we owe the lengthy aisle and fretted vault of the Gothic order of architecture. In the field of heraldry it is noticeable that many nations, families, and individuals have, in addition to their heraldic badges, adopted plants as special symbols, the circumstances of their adoption forming the groundwork of a vast number of legends: a glance at the index will show that some of these are to be discovered in the present work. Many towns and villages owe their names to trees or plants; and not a few English families have taken their surnames from members of the vegetable kingdom. In Scotland, the name of Frazer is derived from the Strawberry-leaves (fraises) borne on the family shield of arms, and the Gowans and Primroses also owe their names to plants. The Highland clans are all distinguished by the floral badge or Suieachantas which is worn in the bonnet. For the most part the plants adopted for these badges are evergreens; and it is said that the deciduous Oak which was selected by the Stuarts was looked upon as a portent of evil to the royal house.

The love of human kind for flowers would seem to be shared by many members of the feathered tribe. Poets have sung of the passion of the Nightingale for the Rose and of the fondness of the Bird of Paradise for the dazzling blooms of the Tropics: the especial liking, however, of one of this race—the Amblyornis inornata—for flowers is worthy of record, inasmuch as this bird-gardener not only erects for itself a bower, but surrounds it with a mossy sward, on which it continually deposits fresh flowers and fruit of brilliant hue, so arranged as to form an elegant parterre.

We have reached our limit, and can only just notice the old traditions relating to the sympathies and antipathies of plants. The Jesuit Kircher describes the hatred existing between Hemlock and Rue, Reeds and Fern, and Cyclamen and Cabbages as so intense, that one of them cannot live on the same ground with the other. The Walnut, it is believed, dislikes the Oak, the Rowan the Juniper, the White-thorn the Black-thorn; and there is said to be a mutual aversion between Rosemary, Lavender, the Bay-tree, Thyme, and Marjoram. On the other hand, the Rose is reported to love the Onion and Garlic, and to put forth its sweetest blooms when in propinquity to those plants; and a bond of fellowship is fabled to exist between a Fig-tree and Rue. Lord Bacon, noticing these traditionary sympathies and antipathies, explains them as simply the outcome of the nature of the plants, and his philosophy is not difficult to be understood by intelligent observers, for, as St. Anthony truly said, the great book of Nature, which contains but three leaves—the Heavens, the Earth, and the Sea—is open for all men alike.

PLANT LORE, LEGENDS, AND LYRICS.

### CHAPTER I.
The World-Trees of the Ancients.

It is a proof of the solemnity with which, from the very earliest times, man has invested trees, and of the reverence with which he has ever regarded them, that they are found figuring prominently in the mythology of almost every nation; and despite the fact that in some instances these ancient myths reach us, after the lapse of ages, in distorted and grotesque forms, they would seem to be worthy of preservation, if only as curiosities in plant lore. In some cases the myth relates to a mystic cloud-tree which supplies the gods with immortal fruit; in others to a tree which imparts to mankind wisdom and knowledge; in others to a tree which is the source and fountain of all life; and in others, again, to the actual descent of mankind from anthropological or parent trees. In one cosmogony—that of the Iranians—the first human pair are represented as having grown up as a single tree, the fingers or twigs of each one being folded over the other’s ears, till the time came when, ripe for separation, they became two sentient beings, and were infused by Ormuzd with distinct human souls.

But besides these trees, which in some form or other benefit and populate the earth, there are to be found in ancient myths records of illimitable trees that existed in space whilst yet the elements of creation were chaotic, and whose branches overshadowed the universe. One of the mythical accounts of the creation of the world represents a vast cosmogonic tree rearing its enormous bulk from the midst of an ocean before the formation of the earth had taken place; and this conception, it may be remarked, is in consonance with a Vedic tradition that plants were created three ages before the gods. In India the idea of a primordial cosmogonic tree, vast as the world itself, and the generator thereof, is very prevalent; and in the Scandinavian prose Edda we find the Skalds shadowing forth an all-pervading mundane Ash, called Yggdrasill, beneath whose shade the gods assemble every day in council, and whose branches spread over the whole world, and even reach above heaven, whilst its roots penetrate to the infernal regions. This cloud-tree of the Norsemen is thought to be a symbol of universal nature.

The accompanying illustration is taken from Finn Magnusen’s pictorial representation of the Yggdrasill myth, and depicts his conception of

#### The Norse World-Tree.

According to the Eddaic accounts, the Ash Yggdrasill is the greatest and best of all trees. One of its stems springs from the central primordial abyss—from the subterranean source of matter—runs up through the earth, which it supports, and issuing out of the celestial mountain in the world’s centre, called Asgard, spreads its branches over the entire universe. These wide-spread branches are the æthereal or celestial regions; their leaves, the clouds; their buds or fruits, the stars. Four harts run across the branches of the tree, and bite the buds: these are the four cardinal winds. Perched upon the top branches is an eagle, and between his eyes sits a hawk: the eagle symbolises the air, the hawk the wind-still æther. A squirrel runs up and down the Ash, and seeks to cause strife between the eagle and Nidhögg, a monster, which is constantly gnawing the roots: the squirrel signifies hail and other atmospherical phenomena; Nidhögg and the serpents that gnaw the roots of the mundane tree are the volcanic agencies which are constantly seeking to destroy earth’s foundations. Another stem springs in the warm south over the æthereal Urdar fountain, where the gods sit in judgment. In this fountain swim two swans, the progenitors of all that species: these swans are, by Finn Magnusen, supposed to typify the sun and moon. Near this fountain dwell three maidens, who fix the lifetime of all men, and are called Norns: every day they draw water from the spring, and with it sprinkle the Ash in order that its branches may not rot and wither away. This water is so holy, that everything placed in the spring becomes as white as the film within an egg-shell. The dew that falls from the tree on the earth men call honey-dew, and it is the food of the bees. The third stem of Yggdrasill takes its rise in the cold and cheerless regions of the north (the land of the Frost Giants), over the source of the ocean, typified by a spring called Mimir’s Well, in which wisdom and wit lie hidden. Mimir, the owner of this spring, is full of wisdom because he drinks of its waters. One day Odin came and begged a draught of water from the well, which he obtained, but was obliged to leave one of his eyes as a pledge for it. This myth Finn Magnusen thinks signifies the descent of the sun every evening into the sea (to learn wisdom from Mimir during the night); the mead quaffed by Mimir every morning being the ruddy dawn, that, spreading over the sky, exhilarates all nature.

[enlarge]

[TO FACE PAGE 2.

Yggdrasill, the Mundane Tree.
From Finn Magnusen’s ‘Eddalæren.’

#### The Hindu World-Tree.

The Indian cosmogonic tree is the symbol of vegetation, of universal life, and of immortality. In the sacred Vedic writings it receives the special names of Ilpa, Kalpadruma, Kalpaka-taru, and Kalpavriksha, on the fruits of which latter tree the first men sustained and nourished life. In its quality of Tree of Paradise, it is called Pârijâta; and as the ambrosial tree—the tree yielding immortal food—it is known as Amrita and Soma. This mystic world-tree of the Hindus, according to the Rigveda, is supernaturally the God Brahma himself; and all the gods are considered as branches of the divine parent stem—the elementary or fragmentary form of Brahma, the vast overspreading tree of the universe. In the Vedas this celestial tree is described as the Pippala (Peepul), and is alluded to as being in turns visited by two beauteous birds—the one feeding itself on the fruit (typifying probably the moon or twilight); the other simply hovering, with scintillating plumage, and singing melodiously (typifying perhaps the sun or daybreak).

Under the name of Ilpa (the Jamboa, or Rose-apple) the cosmogonic tree is described as growing in the midst of the lake Ara in Brahma’s world, beyond the river that never grows old, from whence are procured the waters of eternal youth. Brahma imparts to it his own perfume, and from it obtains the sap of vitality. To its branches the dead cling and climb, in order that they may enter into the regions of immortality.

As the Kalpadruma, Kalpaka-taru, and Kalpavriksha, the Indian sacred writings describe a cloud-tree, which, by its shadows, produced day and night before the creation of sun and moon. This cosmogonic tree, which is of colossal proportions, grows in the midst of flowers and streamlets on a steep mountain. It fulfils all desires, imparts untold bliss, and, what in the eyes of Buddhists constitutes its chief sublimity, it gives knowledge and wisdom to humanity; in a word it combines within its mystic branches all riches and all knowledge.

As the Soma, the world-tree becomes in Indian mysticism a tree of Paradise, at once the king of all trees and vegetation, and the god Soma to be adored. It furnishes the divine ambrosia or essence of immortality, concealed sometimes in the clouds, sometimes in the billows of the soft and silvery light that proceeds from the great-Soma, the great Indu, the moon. Hence this mystic tree, from the foliage of which drops the life-giving Soma, is sometimes characterised as the Hindu Moon-Tree. Out of this cosmogonic tree the immortals shaped the heaven and the earth. It is the Tree of Intelligence, and grows in the third heaven, over which it spreads its mighty branches; beneath it Yama and the Pitris dwell, and quaff the immortalising Soma with the gods. At its foot grow plants of all healing virtue, incorporations of the Soma. Two birds sit on its top, one of which eats Figs, whilst the other simply watches. Other birds press out the Soma juice from its branches. This ambrosial tree, besides dropping the precious Soma, bears fruit and seed of every kind known in the world.

#### The World-Tree of the Buddhists.

The Sacred Tree of Buddha is in the complex theology of his followers represented under different guises: it is cosmogonic, it imparts wisdom, it produces the divine ambrosia or food of immortality, it yields the refreshing and life-inspiring rain, and it affords an abiding-place for the souls of the blessed.

The supernatural and sacred Tree of Buddha, the cloud-tree, the Tree of Knowledge, the Tree of Wisdom, the Ambrosia-tree, is covered with divine flowers; it glows and sparkles with the brilliance of all manner of precious stones; the root, the trunk, the branches, and the leaves are formed of gems of the most glorious description. It grows in soil pure and delightfully even, to which the rich verdure of grass imparts the tints of a peacock’s neck. It receives the homage of the gods; and the arm of Mâyâ (the mother of Buddha) when she stretches it forth to grasp the bough which bends towards her, shines as the lightning illumines the sky. Beneath this sacred tree, the Tree of Knowledge, Buddha, at whose birth a flash of light pierced through all the world, sat down with the firm resolve not to rise until he had attained the knowledge which “maketh free.” Then the Tempter, Mâra, advanced with his demoniacal forces: encircling the Sacred Tree, hosts of demons assailed Buddha with fiery darts, amid the whirl of hurricanes, darkness, and the downpour of floods of water, to drive him from the Tree. Buddha, however, maintained his position unmoved; and at length the demons were compelled to fly. Buddha had conquered, and in defeating the Tempter Mâra, and obtaining possession of his Tree of Knowledge, he had also obtained possession of deliverance. Prof. De Gubernatis, in explaining this myth, characterises the tree as the cloud-tree: in the clouds the heavenly flame is stored, and it is guarded by the dark demons. In the Vedic hymns, the powers of light and darkness fight their great battle for the clouds, and the ambrosia which they contain; this is the identical battle of Buddha with the hosts of Mâra. In the cloud-battle the ambrosia (amrita) which is in the clouds is won; the enlightenment and deliverance which Buddha wins are also called an ambrosia; and the kingdom of knowledge is the land of immortality.

There is a tradition current in Thibet that the Tree of Buddha received the name of Târâyana, that is to say, The Way of Safety, because it grew by the side of the river that separates the world from heaven; and that only by means of its overhanging branches could mankind pass from the earthly to the immortal bank.

The material tree of Buddha is generally represented either under the form of the Asvattha (the Ficus religiosa), or of the Udumbara (the Ficus glomerata), which appeared at the birth of Buddha; but in addition to these guises, we find it also associated with the Asoka (Jonesia Asoka), the Palasa (Butea frondosa), the Bhânuphalâ (Musa sapientum), and sometimes with the Palmyra Palm (Borassus flabelliformis).

Under one of these trees the ascetic, Gautama Buddha, one momentous night, went through successively purer and purer stages of abstraction of consciousness, until the sense of omniscient illumination came over him, and he attained to the knowledge of the sources of mortal suffering. That night which Buddha passed under the Tree of Knowledge on the banks of the river Nairanjanâ, is the sacred night of the Buddhist world. There is a Peepul-tree (Ficus religiosa) at Buddha Gayâ which is regarded as being this particular tree: it is very much decayed, and must have been frequently renewed, as the present tree is standing on a terrace at least thirty feet above the level of the surrounding country.

#### The Iranian World-Tree.

The world-tree of the Iranians is the Haoma, which is thought to be the same as the Gaokerena of the Zendavesta. This Haoma, the sacred Vine of the Zoroastrians, produces the primal drink of immortality after which it is named. It is the first of all trees, planted in heaven by Ormuzd, in the fountain of life, near another tree called the “impassive” or “inviolable,” which bears the seeds of every kind of vegetable life. Both these trees are situated in a lake called Vouru Kasha, and are guarded by ten fish, who keep a ceaseless watch upon a lizard sent by the evil power, Ahriman, to destroy the sacred Haoma. The “inviolable” tree is also known both as the eagle’s and the owl’s tree. Either one or the other of these birds (probably the eagle) sits perched on its top. The moment he rises from the tree, a thousand branches shoot forth; when he settles again he breaks a thousand branches, and causes their seed to fall. Another bird, that is his constant companion, picks up these seeds and carries them to where Tistar draws water, which he then rains down upon the earth with the seeds it contains. These two trees—the Haoma and the eagle’s or “inviolable”—would seem originally to have been one. The lizard sent by Ahriman to destroy the Haoma is known to the Indians as a dragon, the spoiler of harvests, and the ravisher of the Apas, or brides of the gods, Peris who navigate the celestial sea.

#### The Assyrian Sacred Tree.

In intimate connection with the worship of Assur, the supreme deity of the Assyrians, “the God who created himself,” was the Sacred Tree, regarded by the Assyrian race as the personification of life and generation. This tree, which was considered coeval with Assur, the great First Source, was adored in conjunction with the god; for sculptures have been found representing figures kneeling in adoration before it, and bearing mystic offerings to hang upon its boughs. In these sculptured effigies of the Sacred Tree the simplest form consists of a pair of ram’s horns, surmounted by a capital composed of two pairs of rams’ horns, separated by horizontal bands, above which is a scroll, and then a flower resembling the Honeysuckle ornament of the Greeks. Sometimes this blossoms, and generally the stem also throws out a number of smaller blossoms, which are occasionally replaced by Fir-cones and Pomegranates. In the most elaborately-portrayed Sacred Trees there is, besides the stem and the blossoms, a network of branches, which forms a sort of arch, and surrounds the tree as it were with a frame.

The Phœnicians, who were not idolaters, in the ordinary acceptation of the word—inasmuch as they did not worship images of their deities, and regarded the ever-burning fire on their altars as the sole emblem of the Supreme Being,—paid adoration to this Sacred Tree, effigies of which were set up in front of the temples, and had sacrifices offered to them. This mystic tree was known to the Jews as Asherah. At festive seasons the Phœnicians adorned it with boughs, flowers, and ribands, and regarded it as the central object of their worship.

#### The Mother Tree of the Greeks, Romans, and Teutons.

The Greeks appear to have cherished a tradition that the first race of men sprang from a cosmogonic Ash. This cloud Ash became personified in their myth as a daughter of Oceanos, named Melia, who married the river-god Inachos, and gave birth to Phoroneus, in whom the Peloponnesian legend recognised the fire-bringer and the first man. According to Hesychius, however, Phoroneus was not the only mortal to whom the Mother Ash gave birth, for he tells us distinctly that the race of men was “the fruit of the Ash.” Hesiod also repeats the same fable in a somewhat different guise, when he relates how Jove created the third or brazen race of men out of Ash trees. Homer appears to have been acquainted with this tradition, for he makes Penelope say, when addressing Ulysses: “Tell me thy family, from whence thou art; for thou art not sprung from the olden tree, or from the rock.” The Ash was generally deemed by the Greeks an image of the clouds and the mother of men,—the prevalent idea being that the Meliai, or nymphs of the Ash, were a race of cloud goddesses, daughters of sea gods, whose domain was originally the cloud sea.

But besides the Ash, the Greeks would seem to have regarded the Oak as a tree from which the human race had sprung, and to have called Oak trees the first mothers. This belief was shared by the Romans. Thus Virgil speaks

“Of nymphs and fauns, and savage men, who took
Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn Oak.”

In another passage the great Latin poet, speaking of the Æsculus, a species of Oak, sacred to Jupiter, gives to it attributes which remind us in a very striking manner of Yggdrasill, the cloud-tree of the Norsemen.

“Æsculus in primis, quæ quantum vortice ad auras
Ætherias, tantum radice in Tartara tendit.”—Georg. ii.
“High as his topmost boughs to heaven ascend,
So low his roots to hell’s dominion tend.”—Dryden.

In the Æneid, Book IV., speaking of the Oak as Quercus, Virgil uses the same expression with regard to the roots of Jove’s tree descending to the infernal regions. Juvenal, also, in his sixth satire, alluding to the beginning of the world, speaks of the human race as formed of clay or born of the opening Oak, which thus becomes the mystical mother-tree of mankind, and, like a mother, sustained her offspring with food she herself created. Thus Ovid tells us that the simple food of the primal race consisted largely of “Acorns dropping from the tree of Jove;” and we read in Homer and Hesiod that the Acorn was the common food of the Arcadians.

The belief of the ancient Greeks and Romans that the progenitors of mankind were born of trees was also common to the Teutons. At the present day, in many parts of both North and South Germany, a hollow tree overhanging a pool is designated as the first abode of unborn infants, and little children are taught to believe that babies are fetched by the doctor from cavernous trees or ancient stumps. “Frau Holda’s tree” is a common name in Germany for old decayed boles; and she herself, the cloud-goddess, is described in a Hessian legend as having in front the form of a beautiful woman, and behind that of a hollow tree with rugged bark.

But besides Frau Holda’s tree the ancient Germans knew a cosmogonic tree, assimilating to the Scandinavian Yggdrasill. The trunk of this Teutonic world-tree was called Irminsul, a name implying the column of the universe, which supports everything.

A Byzantine legend, which is current in Russia, tells of a vast world-tree of iron, which in the beginning of all things spread its gigantic bulk throughout space. Its root is the power of God; its head sustains the three worlds,—heaven, with the ocean of air; the earth, with its seas of water; and hell, with its sulphurous fumes and glowing flames.

Rabbinic traditions make the Mosaic Tree of Life, which stood in the centre of the Garden of Eden, a vast world-tree, resembling in many points the Scandinavian Ash Yggdrasill. A description of this world-tree of the Rabbins, however, need not appear in the present chapter, since it will be found on page 13.

### CHAPTER II.
The Trees of Paradise and the Tree of Adam.

Amongst all peoples, and in all ages, there has lingered a belief possessing peculiar powers of fascination, that in some unknown region, remote and unexplored, there existed a glorious and happy land; a land of sunshine, luxuriance, and plenty, a land of stately trees and beauteous flowers,—a terrestrial Paradise.

A tradition contained in the sacred books of the Parsis states that at the beginning of the world Ormuzd, the giver of all good, created the primal steer, which contained the germs of all the animals. Ahriman, the evil spirit, then created venomous animals which destroyed the steer: while dying, there sprang out of his right hip the first man, and out of his left hip the first man’s soul. From him arose a tree whence came the original human pair, namely Mâshya and Mashyôî who were placed in Heden, a delightful spot, where grew Hom (or Haoma), the Tree of Life, the fruit of which gave vigour and immortality. This Paradise was in Iran. The woman being persuaded by Ahriman, in the guise of a serpent, gave her husband fruit to eat, which was destructive.

The Persians also imagined a Paradise on Mount Caucasus. The Arabians conceived an Elysium in the midst of the deserts of Aden. The pagan Scandinavians sang of the Holy City of Asgard, situated in the centre of the world. The Celts believed an earthly Paradise to exist in the enchanted Isle of Avalon—the Island of the Blest—

“Where falls not hail or rain, or any snow,
Nor even wind blows loudly; but it lies
Deep-meadow’d, happy, fair, with orchard lawn
And bowery hollows.”

The Greeks and Romans pictured to themselves the delightful gardens of the Hesperides, where grew the famous trees that produced Apples of gold; and in the early days of Christendom the poets of the West dreamt of a land in the East (the true Paradise of Adam and Eve, as they believed) in which dwelt in a Palm-tree the golden-breasted Phœnix,—the bird of the sun, which was thought to abide a hundred years in this Elysium of the Arabian deserts, and then to appear in the Temple of the Sun at Heliopolis, fall upon the blazing altar, and, pouring forth a melodious song from or through the orifices of its feathers (which thus formed a thousand organ-pipes), cremate itself, only to rise again from its smoking ashes, and fly back to its home in the Palm-tree of the earthly Paradise. The Russians tell of a terrestrial Paradise to be sought for on the island of Bujan, where grows the vast Oak tree, amidst whose majestic branches the sun nestles to sleep every evening, and from whose summit he rises every morning.

The Hindu religion shadows forth an Elysium on Mount Meru, on the confines of Cashmere and Thibet. The garden of the great Indian god Indra is a spot of unparalleled beauty. Here are to be found an umbrageous grove or wood, where the gods delight to take their ease; cooling fountains and rivulets; an enchanting flower-garden, luminous flowers, immortalising fruits, and brilliantly-plumed birds, whose melody charms the gods themselves. In this Paradise are fine trees, which were the first things that appeared above the surface of the troubled waters at the beginning of the creation; from these trees drop the immortalising ambrosia. The principal tree is the Pârijâta, the flower of which preserves its perfume all the year round, combines in its petals every odour and every flavour, presents to each his favorite colour and most-esteemed perfume, and procures happiness for those who ask it. But beyond this, it is a token of virtue, losing its freshness in the hands of the wicked, but preserving it with the just and honourable. This wondrous flower will also serve as a torch by night, and will emit the most enchanting sounds, producing the sweetest and most varied melody; it assuages hunger and thirst, cures diseases, and remedies the ravages of old age.

The Paradise of Mahomet is situated in the seventh heaven. In the centre of it stands the marvellous tree called Tooba,[1] which is so large that a man mounted on the fleetest horse could not ride round its branches in one hundred years. This tree not only affords the most grateful shade over the whole extent of the Mussulman Paradise; but its boughs are laden with delicious fruits of a size and taste unknown to mortals, and moreover bend themselves at the wish of the inhabitants of this abode of bliss, to enable them to partake of these delicacies without any trouble. The Koran often speaks of the rivers of Paradise as adding greatly to its delights. All these rivers take their rise from the tree Tooba; some flow with water, some with milk, some with honey, and others even with wine, the juice of the grape not being forbidden to the blessed.

We have seen how the most ancient races conceived and cherished the notion of a Paradise of surpassing beauty, situate in remote and unknown regions, both celestial and terrestrial. It is not, therefore, surprising that the Paradise of the Hebrew race—the Mosaic Eden—should have been pictured as a luxuriant garden, stocked with lovely flowers and odorous herbs, and shaded by majestic trees of every description.

We are told, in the second chapter of Genesis, that at the beginning of the world “the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden,” and that out of this country of Eden a river went out “to water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and became into four heads.” These “heads” or rivers are further on, in the Biblical narrative, named respectively Pison, Gihon, Hiddekel, and Euphrates. Many have been the speculations as to the exact site, geographical features, &c., of Eden, and the Divinely-planted Paradise in its midst, and the subject has been one which has ever been fruitful of controversy and conjecture. Sir John Maundevile has recorded that the Garden of Eden, or Paradise, was enclosed by a wall. This old Eastern traveller tells us that although, in the course of his wanderings, he had never actually seen the land of Eden, yet wise men had discoursed to him concerning it. He says: “Paradise Terrestre, as wise men say, is the highest place of earth—that is, in all the world; and it is so high, that it toucheth nigh to the circle of the moon. For it is so high that the flood of Noah might never come to it, albeit it did cover all the earth of the world, all about, and aboven and beneathen, save Paradise alone. And this Paradise is enclosed all about with a wall, and men wist not whereof it is; for the walls be covered all over with moss, as it seemeth. And it seemeth not that the wall is stone of nature. And that wall stretcheth from the South to the North, and it hath not but one entry, that is closed with fire burning, so that no man that is mortal he dare not enter. And in the highest place of Paradise, exactly in the middle, is a well that casts out the four streams which run by divers lands, of which the first is called Pison, or Ganges, that runs throughout India. And the other is called Nile, or Gyson, which goes through Ethiopia, and after through Egypt. And the other is called Tigris, which runs by Assyria, and by Armenia the Great. And the other is called Euphrates, which runs through Media, Armenia, and Persia. And men there beyond say that all the sweet waters of the world, above and beneath, take their beginning from the well of Paradise, and out of the well all waters come and go.”

Eden (a Hebrew word, signifying “Pleasure”), it is generally conceded, was the most beauteous and luxuriant portion of the world; and the Garden of Eden, the Paradise of Adam and Eve, was the choicest and most exquisite portion of Eden. As regards the situation of this terrestrial Paradise, the Biblical narrative distinctly states that it was in the East, but various have been the speculations as to the precise locality. Moses, in writing of Eden, probably contemplated the country watered by the Tigris and Euphrates—the land of the mighty city of Babylon. Many traditions confirm this view: not only were there a district called Eden, and a town called Paradisus, in Syria, a neighbouring country to Mesopotamia, but in Mesopotamia itself there is a certain region which, as late as the year 1552, was called Eden. Some would localise the Eden of Scripture near Mount Lebanon, in Syria; others between the rivers Tigris and Euphrates, to the west of Babylon; others, again, in the delightful plains of Armenia, or in the highlands of Armenia, where the Tigris and Euphrates have their rise. An opinion very generally held is, that Eden was placed at the junction of several rivers, on a site which is now swallowed up by the Persian Gulf, and that it never existed after the deluge, which effaced this Paradise from the face of a polluted earth. Another theory places Eden in a vast central portion of the globe, comprising a large piece of Asia and a portion of Africa, the four rivers being the Ganges, the Tigris, the Euphrates, and the Nile. Dr. Wild, of Toronto, is of opinion that the Garden of Paradise embraced what we now call Syria. The land that God gave to Abraham and his seed for ever—the Land of Promise, the Holy Land—is the very territory that constituted the Garden of Paradise. “Before the flood,” says the reverend gentleman, “there was in connection with this garden, to the east of it, a gate and a flaming sword, guarding this gate, and a way to the Tree of Life. On that very spot I believe the Great Pyramid of Egypt to be built, to mark where the face of God shone forth to man before the Flood; and the Flood, by changing the land surface through the changing of the ocean bed, changed the centre somewhat, and threw it further south. It is the very centre of the earth now where the Pyramid stands, ... and marks the place where the gate of Eden was before the Flood.”[2]

#### The Tree of life.

Whatever may have been the site of the land of Eden or Pleasure, Moses, in describing Paradise as its garden (much as we speak of Kent as the Garden of England), doubtless wished to convey the idea of a sanctuary of delight and primal loveliness; indeed, he tells us that “out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food.” This Paradise was in the middle of Eden, and in the middle of Paradise was planted the Tree of Life, and, close by, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Into this garden the Lord put the man whom He had formed, “to dress and to keep it,” in other words to till, plant, and sow.

In the very centre of Paradise, in the midst of the land of Eden, grew the Tree of Life. Now, what was this tree? Various have been the conjectures with regard to its nature. The traditions of the Rabbins make the Tree of Life a supernatural tree, resembling the world- or cloud-trees of the Scandinavians and Hindus, and bearing a striking resemblance to the Tooba of the Mahomedan Paradise. They describe the Tree of Life as being of enormous bulk, towering far above all others, and so vast in its girth, that no man, even if he lived so long, could travel round it in less than five hundred years. From beneath the colossal base of this stupendous tree gushed all the waters of the earth, by whose instrumentality nature was everywhere refreshed and invigorated. Regarding these Rabbinic traditions as purely mythical, certain commentators have regarded the Tree of Life as typical only of that life and the continuance of it which our first parents derived from God. Others think that it was called the Tree of Life because it was a memorial, pledge, and seal of the eternal life which, had man continued in obedience, would have been his reward in the Paradise above. Others, again, believe that the fruit of it had a certain vital influence to cherish and maintain man in immortal health and vigour till he should have been translated from the earthly to the heavenly Paradise.

Dr. Wild considers that the Tree of Life stood on Mount Moriah, the very spot selected, in after years, by Abraham, whereon to offer his son Isaac, the type, and the mount to which Christ was led out to be sacrificed. As Eden occupied the centre of the world, and the Tree of Life was planted in the middle of Eden, that spot marked the very centre of the world, and it was necessary that He who was the life of mankind should die in the centre of the world, and act from the centre. Hence, the Tree of Life, destroyed at the flood, on account of man’s wickedness, was replaced on the same spot, centuries after, by the Cross,—converted by the Redeemer into a second and everlasting Tree of Life.

Adam was told he might eat freely of every tree in the garden, excepting only the Tree of Knowledge; we may, therefore, suppose that he would be sure to partake of the fruit of the Tree of Life, which, from its prominent position “in the midst of the garden,” would naturally attract his attention. Like the sacred Soma-tree of the Hindus, the Tree of Life probably yielded heavenly ambrosia, and supplied to Adam food that invigorated and refreshed him with its immortal sustenance. So long as he remained in obedience, he was privileged to partake of this glorious food; but when, yielding to Eve’s solicitations, he disobeyed the Divine command, and partook of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, he found it had given to him the knowledge of evil—something of which he had hitherto been in happy ignorance. He had sinned; he was no longer fit to taste the immortal ambrosia of the Tree of Life; he was, therefore, driven forth from Eden, and lest he should be tempted once again to return and partake of the glorious fruit of the immortalising tree, God “placed at the east of the Garden of Eden cherubims and a flaming sword, which turned every way, to keep the way of the Tree of Life.” Henceforth the immortal food was lost to man: he could no longer partake of that mystic fruit which bestowed life and health. Dr. Wild is of opinion that the Tree of Knowledge stood on Mount Zion, the spot afterwards selected by the Almighty for the erection of the Temple; because, through the Shechinah, men could there obtain knowledge of good and evil.

Some have claimed that the Banana, the Musa paradisiaca, was the Tree of Life, and that another species of the tree, the Musa sapientum, was the Tree of Knowledge; others consider that the Indian sacred Fig-tree, the Ficus religiosa, the Hindu world-tree, was the Tree of Life which grew in the middle of Eden; and the Bible itself contains internal evidence supporting this idea. In Gen. iii. 8, we read that Adam and Eve, conscious of having sinned, “hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the garden.” Dr. Wright, however, in his Commentary, remarks that, in the original, the word rendered “trees” is singular—“in the midst of the tree of the garden”—consequently, we may infer that Adam and Eve, frightened by the knowledge of their sin, sought the shelter of the Tree of Life—the tree in the centre of the garden; the tree which, if it were the Ficus religiosa, would, by its gigantic stature, and the grove-like nature of its growth, afford them agreeable shelter, and prove a favourite retreat. Beneath the shade of this stupendous Fig-tree, the erring pair reflected upon their lost innocence; and in their conscious shame, plucked the ample foliage of the tree, and made themselves girdles of Fig-leaves. Here they remained hidden beneath the network of boughs which drooped almost to the earth, and thus formed a natural thicket within which they sought to hide themselves from an angry God.

“A pillared shade
High over-arched, with echoing walks between.”—Milton.

#### The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

The Tree of Knowledge, in the opinion of some commentators, was so called, not because of any supernatural power it possessed of inspiring those who might eat of it with universal knowledge, as the serpent afterwards suggested, but because by Adam and Eve abstaining from or eating of it after it was prohibited, God would see whether they would prove good or evil in their state of probation.

The tradition generally accepted as to the fruit which the serpent tempted Eve to eat, fixes it as the Apple, but there is no evidence in the Bible that the Tree of Knowledge was an Apple-tree, unless the remark, “I raised thee up under the Apple-tree,” to be found in Canticles viii., 5, be held to apply to our first parents. Eve is stated to have plucked the forbidden fruit because she saw that it was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and that the tree which bore it was “to be desired to make one wise.”

According to an Indian legend, it was the fruit of the Banana tree (Musa paradisiaca or M. sapientum) that proved so fatal to Adam and Eve. We read in Gerarde’s ‘Herbal,’ that “the Grecians and Christians which inhabit Syria, and the Jewes also, suppose it to be that tree of whose fruit Adam did taste.” Gerarde himself calls it “Adam’s Apple-tree,” and remarks of the fruit, that “if it be cut according to the length oblique, transverse, or any other way whatsoever, may be seen the shape and forme of a crosse, with a man fastened thereto. My selfe have seene the fruit, and cut it in pieces, which was brought me from Aleppo, in pickle; the crosse, I might perceive, as the forme of a spred-egle in the root of Ferne, but the man I leave to be sought for by those which have better eies and judgement than my selfe.” Sir John Mandeville gives a similar account of the cross in the Plantain or “Apple of Paradise.” In a work by Léon, called ‘Africa,’ it is stated that the Banana is in that country generally identified with the Tree of Adam. “The Mahometan priests say that this fruit is that which God forbade Adam and Eve to eat; for immediately they eat they perceived their nakedness, and to cover themselves employed the leaves of this tree, which are more suitable for the purpose than any other.” To this day the Indian Djainas are by their laws forbidden to eat either Bananas or Figs. Vincenzo, a Roman missionary of the seventeenth century, after stating that the Banana fruit in Phœnicia bears the effigy of the Crucifixion, tells us that the Christians of those parts would not on any account cut it with a knife, but always broke it with their hands. This Banana, he adds, grows near Damascus, and they call it there “Adam’s Fig Tree.” In the Canaries, at the present time, Banana fruit is never cut across with a knife, because it then exhibits a representation of the Crucifixion. In the island of Ceylon there is a legend that Adam once had a fruit garden in the vicinity of the torrent of Seetagunga, on the way to the Peak. Pridham, in his history of the island, tells us that from the circumstance that various fruits have been occasionally carried down the stream, both the Moormen and Singalese believe that this garden still exists, although now inaccessible, and that its explorer would never return. Tradition, however, affirms that in the centre of this Ceylon Paradise grows a large Banana-tree, the fruit of which when cut transversely exhibits the figure of a man crucified, and that from the huge leaves of this tree Adam and Eve made themselves coverings.

Certain commentators are of opinion that the Tree of Knowledge was a Fig-tree—the Ficus Indica, the Banyan, one of the sacred trees of the Hindus, under the pillared shade of which the god Vishnu was fabled to have been born. In this case the Fig-tree is a tree of ill-omen—a tree watched originally by Satan in the form of a serpent, and whose fruit gave the knowledge of evil. After having tempted and caused Adam to fall by means of its fruit, its leaves were gathered to cover nakedness and shame. Again, the Fig was the tree which the demons selected as their refuge, if one may judge from the fauni ficarii, whom St. Jerome recognised in certain monsters mentioned by the prophets. The Fig was the only tree accursed by Christ whilst on earth; and the wild Fig, according to tradition, was the tree upon which the traitor Judas hanged himself, and from that time has always been regarded as under a bane.

The Citron is held by many to have been the forbidden fruit. Gerarde tells us that this tree was originally called Pomum Assyrium, but that it was known among the Italian people as Pomum Adami; and, writes the old herbalist, “that came by the opinion of the common rude people, who thinke it to be the same Apple which Adam did eate of in Paradise, when he transgressed God’s commandment; whereupon also the prints of the biting appeare therein as they say; but others say that this is not the Apple, but that which the Arabians do call Musa or Mosa, whereof Avicen maketh mention: for divers of the Jewes take this for that through which by eating Adam offended.”

The Pomegranate, Orange, Corn, and Grapes have all been identified as the “forbidden fruit;” but upon what grounds it is difficult to surmise.

After their disobedience, Adam and Eve were driven out of Paradise, and, according to Arabian tradition, Adam took with him three things—an ear of Wheat, which is the chief of all kinds of food; Dates, which are the chief of fruits; and the Myrtle, which is the chief of sweet-scented flowers. Maimonides mentions a legend, cherished by the Nabatheans, that Adam, when he reached the district about Babylon, had come from India, carrying with him a golden tree in blossom, a leaf that no fire would burn, two leaves, each of which would cover a man, and an enormous leaf plucked from a tree beneath whose branches ten thousand men could find shelter.

#### The Tree of Adam.

There is a legend handed down both by Hebrews and Greeks, that when Adam had attained the ripe age of 900 years, he overtaxed his strength in uprooting an enormous bush, and that falling very sick, and feeling the approach of death, he sent his son Seth to the angel who guarded Paradise, and particularly the way to the Tree of Life, to ask of him some of its ambrosia, or oil of mercy, that he might anoint his limbs therewith, and so regain good health. Seth approached the Tree of Knowledge, of the fruit of which Adam and Eve had once partaken. A youth, radiant as the sun, was seated on its summit, and, addressing Seth, told him that He was the Son of God, that He would one day come down to earth, to deliver it from sin, and that He would then give the oil of mercy to Adam.

The angel who was guarding the Tree of Life then handed to Seth three small seeds, charging him to place them in his father’s mouth, when he should bury him near Mount Tabor, in the valley of Hebron. Seth obeyed the angel’s behests. The three seeds took root, and in a short time appeared above the ground, in the form of three rods. One of these saplings was a branch of Olive, the second a Cedar, the third a Cypress. The three rods did not leave the mouth of Adam, nor was their existence known until the time of Moses, who received from God the order to cut them. Moses obeyed, and with these three rods, which exhaled a perfume of the Promised Land, performed many miracles, cured the sick, drew water from a rock, &c.

After the death of Moses, the three rods remained unheeded in the Valley of Hebron until the time of King David, who, warned by the Holy Ghost, sought and found them there. Hence they were taken by the King to Jerusalem, where all the leprous, the dumb, the blind, the paralysed, and other sick people presented themselves before the King, beseeching him to give them the salvation of the Cross. King David thereupon touched them with the three rods, and their infirmities instantly vanished. After this the King placed the three rods in a cistern, but to his astonishment upon going the next day for them, he discovered they had all three firmly taken root, that the roots had become inextricably interlaced, and that the three rods were in fact reunited in one stem which had shot up therefrom, and had become a Cedar sapling,—the tree that was eventually to furnish the wood of the Cross. This reunion of the three rods was typical of the Trinity. The young Cedar was subsequently placed in the Temple, but we hear nothing more of it for thirty years, when Solomon, wishing to complete the Temple, obtained large supplies of Cedars of Lebanon, and as being well adapted for his purpose cut down the Cedar of the Temple. The trunk of this tree, lying with the other timber, was seen by a woman, who sat down on it, and inspired with the spirit of prophecy cried: “Behold! the Lord predicts the virtues of the Sacred Cross.” The Jews thereupon attacked the woman, and having stoned her, they plunged the sacred wood of the Temple into the piscina probatica, of which the water acquired from that moment healing qualities, and which was afterwards called the Pool of Bethesda. In the hope of profaning it the Jews afterwards employed the sacred wood in the construction of the bridge of Siloam, over which everybody unheedingly passed, excepting only the Queen of Sheba, who, prostrating herself, paid homage to it and prophetically cried that of this wood would one day be made the Cross of the Redeemer.

Thus, although Adam by eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, came to know that which was evil, and could no longer be permitted to partake of the fruit or essence of the Tree of Life, yet, from its seeds, placed in his mouth after death, sprang the tree which produced the Cross of Christ, by means of which he and his race could attain to eternal life.

According to Prof. Mussafia,[3] an authority quoted by De Gubernatis, the origin of this legend of Seth’s visit to Paradise is to be found in the apocryphal gospel of Nicodemus, where it is stated that the Angel Michael refused to give the oil of mercy to Seth, and told him that Christ would one day visit the earth to anoint all believers, and to conduct Adam to the Tree of Mercy. Some of the legends collected by the Professor are very curious.

An Austrian legend records that the Angel Michael gave to Eve and her son Seth a spray with three leaves, plucked from the Tree of Knowledge, with directions to plant it on the grave of Adam. The spray took root and became a tree, which Solomon placed as an ornament in the Temple of Jerusalem, and which was cast into the piscina probatica, where it lay until the day of Christ’s condemnation, when it was taken out and fashioned into the Cross on which He suffered.

A German legend narrates that Eve went with Seth to Paradise, where she encountered the serpent; but the Angel Michael gave her a branch of Olive, which, planted over the grave of Adam, grew rapidly. After the death of Eve, Seth returned to Paradise, and there met the Angel, who had in his hands a branch to which was suspended the half of the Apple which had been bitten by his mother Eve. The Angel gave this to Seth, at the same time recommending him to take as great care of it as of the Olive planted on Adam’s grave, because these two trees would one day become the means of the redemption of mankind. Seth scrupulously watched over the precious branch, and at the hour of his death bequeathed it to the best of men. Thus it came into the hands of Noah, who took it into the Ark with him. After the Deluge, Noah sent forth the dove as a messenger, and it brought to him a branch of the Olive planted on the tomb of Adam. Noah religiously guarded the two precious branches which were destined to be instrumental in redeeming the human race by furnishing the wood of the Cross.

A second German legend states that Adam, when at the point of death, sent Seth to Paradise to gather there for him some of the forbidden fruit (probably this is a mistake for “some of the fruit of the Tree of Life”). Seth hesitated, saying as an excuse that he did not know the way. Adam directed him to follow a tract of country entirely bare of vegetation. Arrived safely at Paradise, Seth persuaded the angel to give him, not the Apple, but simply the core of the Apple tasted by Eve. On Seth returning home, he found his father dead; so extracting from the Apple-core three pips, he placed them in Adam’s mouth. From them sprang three plants that Solomon cut down in order to form a cross—the selfsame cross afterwards borne by our Saviour, and on which He was crucified—and a rod of justice, which, split in the middle, eventually served to hold the superscription written by Pilate, and placed at the head of the Cross.

A legend, current in the Greek Church, claims the Olive as the Tree of Adam: this, perhaps, is not surprising considering in what high esteem the Greeks have always held the Olive. The legend tells how Seth, going to seek the oil of mercy in Paradise, in consequence of his father’s illness, was told by the angel that the time had not arrived. The angel then presented him with three branches—the Olive, Cedar, and Cypress: these Seth was ordered to plant over Adam’s grave, and the promise was given him that when they produced oil, Adam should rise restored to health. Seth, following these instructions, plaited the three branches together and planted them over the grave of his father, where they soon became united as one tree. After a time this tree was transplanted, in the first place to Mount Lebanon, and afterwards to the outskirts of Jerusalem, and it is there to this day in the Greek Monastery, having been cut down and the timber placed beneath the altar. From this circumstance the Monastery was called, in Hebrew, the Mother of the Cross. This same wood was revealed to Solomon by the Queen of Sheba, and Solomon therefore ordered it to be used in the foundation of a tower; but the tower having been rent in twain by an earthquake which occurred at our Saviour’s birth, the wood was cast into a pool called the probatica piscina, to which it imparted wonderful healing qualities.[4]

There is another somewhat similar Greek legend, in which Abraham takes the place of Adam, and the Pine supersedes the Olive. According to this version, a shepherd met Abraham on the banks of the Jordan, and confessed to him a sin he had committed. Abraham listened, and counselled the erring shepherd to plant three stakes, and to water them carefully until they should bud. After forty days the three stakes had taken the form of a Cypress, a Cedar, and a Pine, having different roots and branches, but one indivisible trunk. This tree grew until the time of Solomon, who wished to make use of it in the construction of the Temple. After several abortive attempts, it was at length made into a seat for visitors to the Temple. The Sibyl Erythræa (the Queen of Sheba) refused to sit upon it, and exclaimed: “Thrice blessed is this wood, on which shall perish Christ, the King and God.” Then Solomon had the wood mounted on a pedestal and adorned with thirty rings or crowns of silver. These thirty rings became the thirty pieces of silver, the price of Judas, the betrayer, and the wood was eventually used for the Saviour’s Cross.

### CHAPTER III.
Sacred Trees & Plants of the Ancients.

All the nations of antiquity entertained for certain trees and plants a special reverence, which in many cases degenerated into a superstitious worship. The myths of all countries contain allusions to sacred or supernatural plants. The Veda mentions the heavenly tree which the lightning strikes down; the mythology of the Finns speaks of the celestial Oak which the sun-dwarf uproots; Yama, the Vedic god of death, sits drinking with companies of the blessed, under a leafy tree, just as in the northern Saga Hel’s place is at the foot of the Ash Yggdrasill.

In the eyes of the ancient Persians the tree, by its changes in Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter, appeared as the emblem of human existence, whilst at the same time, by the continuity of its life, it was reverently regarded as a symbol of immortality. Hence it came to pass that in Persia trees of unusual qualities were in course of time looked upon as being the abode of holy and even celestial spirits. Such trees became sacred, and were addressed in prayer by the reverential Parsis, though they eschewed the worship of idols, and honoured the sun and moon simply as symbols. Ormuzd, the good spirit, is set forth as giving this command:—“Go, O Zoroaster! to the living trees, and let thy mouth speak before them these words: I pray to the pure trees, the creatures of Ormuzd.” Of all trees, however, the Cypress, with its pyramidal top pointing to the sky, was to the Parsis the most venerated: hence they planted it before their temples and palaces as symbolic of the celestial fire.

The Oak, the strongest of all trees, has been revered as the emblem of the Supreme Being by almost all the nations of heathendom, by the Jewish Patriarchs, and by the children of Israel, who eventually came to esteem the tree sacred, and offered sacrifices beneath its boughs. Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, Teutons, and Celts, all considered the Oak as sacred, and the Druids taught the people of Britain to regard this tree with peculiar reverence and respect. It is frequently mentioned by the Roman poets as the tree of Jove, to whom it was dedicated; and near to Chaonia, a mountainous part of Epirus, was a forest of Oaks, called the Chaonian or Dodonæan Forest, where oracles were given, as some say, by the trees themselves. The world-tree of Romowe, the old centre of the Prussians, was an Oak, and it was reverenced as a tree of great sanctity.

The Indians adored the tree Asoka, consecrated to Vishnu; and the Banyan, in the belief that Vishnu was born amongst its branches.[5]

The Soma-latâ (Sarcostemma aphylla), or sacred plant yielding the immortal fluid offered to the gods on the altars of the Brahmans, is regarded with extreme reverence. The name Amrita, or Immortal Tree, is given to the Euphorbia, Panicum Dactylon, Cocculus cordifolius, Pinus Deodara, Emblica officinalis, Terminalia citrina, Piper longum, and many others. The Holy Basil (Ocimum sanctum) is looked upon as a sacred plant. The Deodar is the Devadâru or tree-god of the Shastras, alluded to in Vedic hymns as the symbol of majesty and power.

To Indra, the supreme god of the Vedic Olympus, are dedicated the Terminalia Arjuna (the Tree of Indra), the Methonica superba (the Flower of Indra), a species of Pumpkin called Indra-vârunikâ (appertaining to Indra and Varuna), the Vitex Negundo (the drink of Indra), the Abrus precatorius, and Hemp (the food of Indra).

To Brahma are sacred the Butea frondosa, the Ficus glomerata, the Mulberry (the seed of Brahma), the Clerodendron Siphonanthus, the Hemionitis cordifolia (leaf of Brahma), the Saccharum Munga (with which is formed the sacred girdle of the Brahmans), and the Poa cynosuroides, or Kusa Grass, a species of Vervain, employed in Hindu sacrificial rites, and held in such sanctity as to be acknowledged as a god.

The Peepul or Bo-tree (Ficus religiosa) is held sacred by Buddhists as the Holy Tree and the Tree of Knowledge.

The Burmese Buddhists surround their Pagodas and religious houses with trees, for which they entertain a high regard. The first holy men dwelt under the shade of forest trees, and from that circumstance, in the Burmese cultus, every Budh is specially connected with some tree—as Shin Gautama with the Banyan, under which he attained his full dignity, and the Shorea robusta, under which he was born and died—and, as we are told, the last Budh of this world cycle, Areemadehya, will receive his Buddhaship under the Mesua ferrea.

The Burman also regards the Eugenia as a plant of peculiar sanctity—a protective from all harm. The Jamboa, or Rose Apple, is held in much reverence in Thibet, where it is looked upon as the representative of the mystical Amrita, the tree which in Paradise produces the amrita or ambrosia of the gods.

The Cedar has always been regarded by the Jews as a sacred tree; and to this day the Maronites, Greeks, and Armenians go up to the Cedars of Lebanon, at the Feast of the Transfiguration, and celebrate Mass at their feet.

To the ancient inhabitants of Northern Europe the Elm and the Ash were objects of especial veneration. Many sacred trees or pillars, formed of the living trunks of trees, have been found in Germany, called Irminseule, one of which was destroyed by Charlemagne in 772, in Westphalia.

The Mountain Ash, or Rowan Tree, was, in olden times, an object of great veneration in Britain; and in Evelyn’s day was reputed of such sanctity in Wales, that there was not a churchyard that did not contain one.

The colossal Baobab (Adansonia) is worshipped as a divinity by the negroes of Senegambia. The Nipa or Susa Palm (Nipa fruticans) is the sacred tree of Borneo. The gigantic Dragon Tree (Dracæna Draco) of Orotava was for centuries the object of deep reverence to the aborigines of the Canary Isles. The Zamang of Guayra, an enormous Mimosa, has from time immemorial been held sacred in the province of Caracas. The Moriche Palm (Mauritia flexuosa) is considered a deity by the Tamancas, a tribe of Oronoco Indians, and is held sacred by the aboriginal Mexicans.

The Nelumbo, or Sacred Bean (Nelumbium speciosum), was the Lotus adored by the Ancient Egyptians, who also paid divine honours to the Onion, Garlic, Acacia, Laurel, Peach-tree, Lentils of various sorts, and the Heliotrope. Wormwood was dedicated to Isis, and Antirrhinum (supposed to be the ancient Cynocephalia, or Dog’s Head) to Osiris.

The sacred Lotus of the East, the flower of the

“Old Hindu mythologies, wherein
The Lotus, attribute of Ganga—embleming
The world’s great reproductive power—was held
In veneration,”

was the Nelumbium speciosum. This mystic flower is a native of Northern Africa, India, China, Japan, Persia, and Asiatic Russia, and in all these countries has, for centuries, maintained its sacred character. It is the Lien-wha of the Chinese, and, according to their theology, enters into the beverage of immortality.

Henna (Lawsonia alba), the flower of Paradise, is dedicated to Mahomet, who characterised it as the “chief of the flowers of this world and the next.”

The Pomegranate-tree was highly reverenced both by the Persians and the Jews. The fruit was embroidered on the hem of Aaron’s sacred robe, and adorned the robes of Persia’s ancient Priest-Kings.

Pine-cones were regarded by the Assyrians as sacred symbols, and as such were used in the decoration of their temples.

In Teutonic and Scandinavian mythology the Rose is sacred to Hulda, the Flax to Bertha, the Spignel to Baldr, and the Hair Moss (Polytrichum commune) is dedicated to Thor’s wife, Sif. Of the divinities after whom the days of the week were named, the Sun has his special flower, the Moon her Daisy, Tyr (Tuesday) the Tys-fiola or March Violet and the Mezereon; Woden (Wednesday) the Geranium sylvaticum (Odin’s Favour) and the Monkshood (Odin’s Helm); Thor (Thursday) the Monkshood (Thor’s Hat) and the Burdock (Thor’s Mantle); Frig (Friday) and Freyja, who is often confounded with her, had many plants dedicated to them, which have since been transferred to Venus and the Virgin Mary, and are not now recognised by the name of either of the Scandinavian goddesses. In the North of Europe, however, the Supercilium Veneris is still known as Freyja’s Hair, and the perfumed Orchis Gymnadenia conopsea as Frigg’s Grass. Sæterne or Sætere (Saturday), the supposed name of an Anglo-Saxon god, is probably but a mere adaptation of the Roman Saturnus. It may, perhaps, be apposite to quote (for what it may be worth) Verstegan’s statement that the Saxons represented “Seater” as carrying a pail of water in which were flowers and fruits, whereby “was declared that with kindly raine he would nourish the earth to bring foorth such fruites and flowers.”

In the Grecian and Roman mythology we find numerous trees and flowers dedicated to the principal divinities. Thus, the

Alder | was dedicated to | Neptune.
Apple | was dedicated to | Venus.
Ash | was dedicated to | Mars.
Bay | was dedicated to | Apollo.
Beech | was dedicated to | Jupiter Ammon.
Cornel Cherry | was dedicated to | Apollo.
Cypress | was dedicated to | Pluto.
Dittany | was dedicated to | Juno, Diana, and Luna.
Dog-grass | was dedicated to | Mars.
Fir | was dedicated to | Cybele and Neptune.
Heliotrope | was dedicated to | Phœbus Apollo.
Horsetail | was dedicated to | Saturn.
Iris | was dedicated to | Juno.
Ivy | was dedicated to | Bacchus.
Laurel | was dedicated to | Apollo.
Lily | was dedicated to | Juno.
Maidenhair | was dedicated to | Pluto and Proserpine.
Myrtle | was dedicated to | Venus and Mars.
Narcissus | was dedicated to | Ceres, Pluto, and Proserpine.
Oak | was dedicated to | Jupiter.
Olive | was dedicated to | Minerva.
Palm | was dedicated to | Mercury.
Pine | was dedicated to | Neptune and Pan.
Pink | was dedicated to | Jupiter.
Pomegranate | was dedicated to | Juno.
Poplar | was dedicated to | Hercules.
Poppy | was dedicated to | Ceres, Diana, and Somnus.
Rhamnus | was dedicated to | Janus.
Rocket | was dedicated to | Priapus.
Rose | was dedicated to | Venus.
Vine | was dedicated to | Bacchus.
Willow | was dedicated to | Ceres.

To the Furies was consecrated the Juniper; the Fates wore wreaths of the Narcissus, and the Muses Bay-leaves.

The Grecian Centaurs, half men, half horses, like their Indian brethren the Gandharvas, understood the properties of herbs, and cultivated them; but, as a rule, they never willingly divulged to mankind their knowledge of the secrets of the vegetable world. Nevertheless, the Centaur Chiron instructed Æsculapius, Achilles, Æneas, and other heroes in the polite arts. Chiron had a panacea of his own, which is named after him Chironia Centaurium, or Gentiana Centaurium; and, as a vulnerary, the Ampelos Chironia of Pliny, or Tamus communis. In India, on account of the shape of its leaves, the Ricinus communis is called Gandharvahasta (having the hands of a Gandharva).

### CHAPTER IV.
Floral Ceremonies, Wreaths, and Garlands.

The application of flowers and plants to ceremonial purposes is of the highest antiquity. From the earliest periods, man, after he had discovered

> “What drops the Myrrh and what the balmy Reed,”

offered up on primitive altars, as incense to the Deity, the choicest and most fragrant woods, the aromatic gums from trees, and the subtle essences he obtained from flowers. In the odorous but intoxicating fumes which slowly ascended, in wreaths heavy with fragrance, from the altar, the pious ancients saw the mystic agency by which their prayers would be wafted from earth to the abodes of the gods; and so, says Mr. Rimmel, “the altars of Zoroaster and of Confucius, the temples of Memphis, and those of Jerusalem, all smoked alike with incense and sweet-scented woods.” Nor was the admiration and use of vegetable productions confined to the inhabitants of the old world alone, for the Mexicans, according to the Abbé Clavigero, have, from time immemorial, studied the cultivation of flowers and odoriferous plants, which they employed in the worship of their gods.

But the use of flowers and odorous shrubs was not long confined by the ancients to their sacred rites; they soon began to consider them as essential to their domestic life. Thus, the Egyptians, though they offered the finest fruit and the finest flowers to the gods, and employed perfumes at all their sacred festivals, as well as at their daily oblations, were lavish in the use of flowers at their private entertainments, and in all circumstances of their every-day life. At a reception given by an Egyptian noble, it was customary, after the ceremony of anointing, for each guest to be presented with a Lotus-flower when entering the saloon, and this flower the guest continued to hold in his hand. Servants brought necklaces of flowers composed chiefly of the Lotus; a garland was put round the head, and a single Lotus-bud, or a full-blown flower was so attached as to hang over the forehead. Many of them, made up into wreaths and devices, were suspended upon stands placed in the room, garlands of Crocus and Saffron encircled the wine cups, and over and under the tables were strewn various flowers. Diodorus informs us that when the Egyptians approached the place of divine worship, they held the flower of the Agrostis in their hand, intimating that man proceeded from a well-watered land, and that he required a moist rather than a dry aliment; and it is not improbable that the reason of the great preference given to the Lotus on these occasions was derived from the same notion.

This fondness of the ancients for flowers was carried to such an extent as to become almost a vice. When Antony supped with Cleopatra, the luxurious Queen of Egypt, the floors of the apartments were usually covered with fragrant flowers. When Sardanapalus, the last of the Assyrian monarchs, was driven to dire extremity by the rapid approach of the conqueror, he chose the death of an Eastern voluptuary: causing a pile of fragrant woods to be lighted, and placing himself on it with his wives and treasures, he soon became insensible, and was suffocated by the aromatic smoke. When Antiochus Epiphanes, the Syrian king, held high festival at Daphne, in one of the processions which took place, boys bore Frankincense, Myrrh, and Saffron on golden dishes, two hundred women sprinkled everyone with perfumes out of golden watering-pots, and all who entered the gymnasium to witness the games were anointed with some perfume contained in fifteen gold dishes, holding Saffron, Amaracus, Lilies, Cinnamon, Spikenard, Fenugreek, &c. When the Roman Emperor Nero sat at banquet in his golden palace, a shower of flowers and perfumes fell upon him; but Heliogabalus turned these floral luxuries into veritable curses, for it was one of the pleasures of this inhuman being to smother his courtiers with flowers.

Both Greeks and Romans caried the delicate refinements of the taste for flowers and perfumes to the greatest excess in their costly entertainments; and it is the opinion of Baccius that at their desserts the number of their flowers far exceeded that of their fruits. The odour of flowers was deemed potent to arouse the fainting appetite; and their presence was rightly thought to enhance the enjoyment of the guests at their banqueting boards:—

“The ground is swept, and the triclinium clear,
The hands are purified, the goblets, too,
Well rinsed; each guest upon his forehead bears
A wreath’d flow’ry crown; from slender vase
A willing youth presents to each in turn
A sweet and costly perfume; while the bowl,
Emblem of joy and social mirth, stands by,
Filled to the brim; and then pours out wine
Of most delicious flavour, breathing round
Fragrance of flowers, and honey newly made,
So grateful to the sense, that none refuse;
While odoriferous fumes fill all the room.”—Xenophanes.

In all places where festivals, games, or solemn ceremonials were held, and whenever public rejoicings and gaiety were deemed desirable, flowers were utilised with unsparing hands.

“Set before your doors
The images of all your sleeping fathers,
With Laurels crowned; with Laurels wreath your posts,
And strew with flowers the pavement; let the priest
Do present sacrifice; pour out the wine,
And call the gods to join with you in gladness.”—Dryden.

In the triumphal processions of Rome the streets were strewed with flowers, and from the windows, roofs of houses, and scaffolds, the people cast showers of garlands and flowers upon the crowds below and upon the conquerors proudly marching in procession through the city. Macaulay says—

“On ride they to the Forum,
While Laurel-boughs and flowers,
From house-tops and from windows,
Fell on their crests in showers.”

In the processions of the Corybantes, the goddess Cybele, the protectress of cities, was pelted with white Roses. In the annual festivals of the Terminalia, the peasants were all crowned with garlands of flowers; and at the festival held by the gardeners in honour of Vertumnus on August 23rd, wreaths of budding flowers and the first-fruits of their gardens were offered by members of the craft.

In the sacrifices of both Greeks and Romans, it was customary to place in the hands of victims some sort of floral decoration, and the presiding priests also appeared crowned with flowers.

“Thus the gay victim with fresh garlands crowned,
Pleased with the sacred pipe’s enlivening sound.
Through gazing crowds in solemn state proceeds,
And dressed in fatal pomp, magnificently bleeds.”—Phillips.

The place erected for offerings was called by the Romans ara, an altar. It was decorated with leaves and grass, adorned with flowers, and bound with woollen fillets: on the occasion of a “triumph” these altars smoked with perfumed incense.

The Greeks had a Nymph of Flowers whom they called Chloris, and the Romans the goddess Flora, who, among the Sabines and the Phoceans, had been worshipped long before the foundation of the Eternal City. As early as the time of Romulus the Latins instituted a festival in honour of Flora, which was intended as a public expression of joy at the appearance of the welcome blossoms which were everywhere regarded as the harbingers of fruits. Five hundred and thirteen years after the foundation of Rome the Floralia, or annual floral games, were established; and after the sibyllic books had been consulted, it was finally ordained that the festival should be kept every 20th day of April, that is four days before the calends of May—the day on which, in Asia Minor, the festival of the flowers commences. In Italy, France, and Germany, the festival of the flowers, or the festival of spring, begins about the same date—i.e., towards the end of April—and terminates on the feast of St. John.

The festival of the Floralia was introduced into Britain by the Romans; and for centuries all ranks of people went out a-Maying early on the first of the month. The juvenile part of both sexes, in the north, were wont to rise a little after midnight, and walk to some neighbouring wood, accompanied with music and the blowing of horns,

“To get sweet Setywall [red Valerian],
The Honeysuckle, the Harlock,
The Lily and the Lady-smock,
To deck their summer hall.”

They also gathered branches from the trees, and adorned them with nosegays and crowns of flowers, returning with their booty homewards, about the rising of the sun, forthwith to decorate their doors and windows with the flowery spoil. The after-part of the day, says an ancient chronicler, was “chiefly spent in dancing round a tall pole, which is called a May-pole; which, being placed in a convenient part of the village, stands there, as it were, consecrated to the goddess of flowers, without the least violation offered it in the whole circle of the year.”

“Your May-pole deck with flowery coronal;
Sprinkle the flowery coronal with wine;
And in the nimble-footed galliard, all,
Shepherd and shepherdess, lively join,
Hither from village sweet and hamlet fair,
From bordering cot and distant glen repair:
Let youth indulge its sport, to old bequeath its care.”

Old John Stowe tells us that on May-day, in the morning, “every man, except impediment, would walk into the sweet meadows and green woods, there to rejoice their spirits with the beauty and savour of sweet flowers, and with the harmony of birds praising God in their kind.” In the days of Henry VIII. it was the custom for all classes to observe the May-day festival, and we are told that the king himself rode a-Maying from Greenwich to Shooter’s Hill, with his Queen Katherine, accompanied by many lords and ladies. Chaucer relates how on May-day

“Went forth all the Court both most and least;
To fetch the floures fresh, and branch and blome,
And namely Hawthorn brought both page and grome;
And then rejoysen in their great delite,
Eke each at other threw the floures bright.
The Primrose, Violette, and the Golde,
With garlands partly blue and white.”

The young maidens repaired at daybreak to the meadows and hill-sides, for the purpose of gathering the precious May-dew, wherewith to make themselves fair for the remainder of the year. This old custom is still extant in the north of England and in some districts of Scotland. Robert Fergusson has told how the Scotch lassies swarmed at daybreak on Arthur’s Seat:

“On May-day in a fairy ring,
We’ve seen them round St. Anthon’s spring
Frae grass the caller dew-draps wring,
To wet their ein,
And water clear as crystal spring.
To synd them clean.”

In Ross-shire the lassies pluck sprigs of Ivy, with the May-dew on them, that have not been touched by steel.

It was deemed important that flowers for May garlands and posies should be plucked before the sun rose on May-day morning; and if perchance, Cuckoo-buds were included in the composition of a wreath, it was destroyed directly the discovery was made, and removed immediately from a posie.

In the May-day sports on the village green, it was customary to choose as May Queen either the best dancer or the prettiest girl, who, at sundown was crowned with a floral chaplet—

“See where she sits upon the grassie greene,
A seemly sight!
Yclad in scarlet, like a mayden queene,
And ermines white.
Upon her head a crimson coronet,
With Daffodils and Damask Roses set:
Bay-leaves betweene,
And Primroses greene
Embellished the sweete Violet.”—Spenser.

The coronation of the rustic queen concluded the out-door festivities of May-day, although her majesty’s duties would not appear to have been fulfilled until she reached her home.

“Then all the rest in sorrow,
And she in sweet content,
Gave over till the morrow,
And homeward straight they went;
But she of all the rest
Was hindered by the way,
For every youth that met her
Must kiss the Queen of May!”

At Horncastle, in Lincolnshire, there existed, till the beginning of the present century, a ceremony which evidently derived its origin from the Roman Floralia. On the morning of May-day, a train of youths collected themselves at a place still known as the May-bank. From thence, with wands enwreathed with Cowslips they walked in procession to the may-pole, situated at the west end of the town, and adorned on that morning with every variety of wild flowers. Here, with loud shouts, they struck together their wands, and, scattering around the Cowslips, testified their thankfulness for the bounteous promise of spring.

Aubrey (MS., 1686), tells us that in his day “at Woodstock in Oxon they every May-eve goe into the parke, and fetch away a number of Haw-thorne-trees, which they set before their dores.” In Huntingdonshire, fifty years ago, the village swains were accustomed, at sunrise, to place a branch of May in blossom before the door of anyone they wished to honour. In Tuscany the expression, Appiccare il maio ad una porta, has passed into a proverb, and means to lay siege to a maiden’s heart and make love to her. In the vicinity of Valenciennes, branches of Birch or Hornbeam are placed by rural swains at the doors of their sweethearts; thorny branches at the portals of prudes; and Elder boughs at the doors of flirts. In the villages of Provence, on May-day, they select a May Queen. Crowned with a wreath, and adorned with garlands of Roses, she is carried through the streets, mounted on a platform, her companions soliciting and receiving the offerings of the towns-people. In olden times it was customary even among the French nobility to present May to friends and neighbours, or as it was called, esmayer. Sometimes this presenting of May was regarded as a challenge. The custom of planting a May-tree in French towns subsisted until the 17th century: in 1610, one was planted in the court of the Louvre. In some parts of Spain the name of Maia is given to the May Queen (selected generally as being the handsomest lass of the village), who, decorated with garlands of flowers, leads the dances in which the young people spend the day. The villagers in other provinces declare their love by planting, during the preceding night, a large bough or a sapling, decked with flowers, before the doors of their sweethearts. In Greece, bunches of flowers are suspended over the doors of most houses; and in the rural districts, the peasants bedeck themselves with flowers, and carry garlands and posies of wild flowers.

In some parts of Italy, in the May-day rejoicings, a May-tree or a branch in blossom and adorned with fruit and ribbands, plays a conspicuous part: this is called the Maggio, and is probably a reminiscence of the old Grecian Eiresione.

Of the flowers specially dedicated to May, first and foremost is the Hawthorn blossom. In some parts of England the Convallaria is known as May Lily. The Germans call it Mai blume, a name they also apply to the Hepatica and Kingcup. In Devon and Cornwall the Lilac is known as May-flower, and much virtue is thought to be attached to a spray of the narrow-leaf Elm gathered on May morning.

In Asia Minor the annual festival of flowers used to commence on the 28th of April, when the houses and tables were covered with flowers, and every one going into the streets wore a floral crown. In Germany, France, and Italy, the fête of the flowers, or the fête of spring, commences also towards the end of April, and terminates at Midsummer. Athenians, on an early day in spring, every year crowned with flowers all children who had reached their third year, and in this way the parents testified their joy that the little ones had passed the age rendered critical by the maladies incident to infants. The Roman Catholic priesthood, always alert at appropriating popular pagan customs, and adapting them to the service of their church, have perpetuated this old practice. The little children crowned with flowers and habited as angels, who to this day accompany the procession of the Corpus Domini at the beginning of June, are taught to scatter flowers in the road, to symbolise their own spring-time and the spring-time of nature. On this day, along the entire route of the procession at Rome, the ground is thickly strewn with Bay and other fragrant leaves. In the worship of the Madonna, flowers play an important rôle, and Roman altars are still piled up with fragrant blossoms, and still smoke with perfumed incense.

After the feast of Whitsuntide, the young Russian maidens repair to the banks of the Neva, and fling in its waters wreaths of flowers, which are tokens of affection to absent friends.

In the West of Germany and the greater part of France the ceremony is observed of bringing home on the last harvest wain a tree or bough decorated with flowers and gay ribbons, which is graciously received by the master and planted on or near the house, to remain there till the next harvest brings its successor. Some rite of this sort, Mr. Ralston says, seems to have prevailed all over the North of Europe. “So, in the autumnal harvest thanksgiving feast at Athens, it was customary to carry in sacred procession an Olive-branch wrapped in wool, called Eiresione, to the temple of Apollo, and there to leave it; and in addition to this a similar bough was solemnly placed beside the house door of every Athenian who was engaged in fruit culture or agriculture, there to remain until replaced by a similar successor twelve months later.”

#### Well-Flowering.

From the earliest days of the Christian era our Lord’s ascension into heaven has been commemorated by various ceremonies, one of which was the perambulation of parish boundaries. At Penkridge, in Staffordshire, as well as at Wolverhampton, long after the Reformation, the inhabitants, during the time of processioning, used to adorn their wells with boughs and flowers; and this ancient custom is still practised every year at Tissington, in Derbyshire, where it is known as “well-flowering.” There are five wells so decorated, and the mode of dressing or adorning them is this:—the flowers are inserted in moist clay and put upon boards cut in various forms, surrounded with boughs of Laurel and White Thorn, so as to give the appearance of water issuing from small grottoes. The flowers are arranged in various patterns, to give the effect of mosaic work, and are inscribed with texts of Scripture and suitable mottoes. After church, the congregation walk in procession to the wells and decorate them with these boards, as well as with garlands of flowers, boughs, &c. Flowers were cast into the wells, and from their manner of falling, lads and lasses divined as to the progress of their love affairs.

“Bring flowers! bring flowers! to the crystal well,
That springs ’neath the Willows in yonder dell.
* * * * * * * *
And we’ll scatter them over the charmed well,
And learn our fate from its mystic spell.”
“And she whose flower most tranquilly
Glides down the stream our Queen shall be.
In a crown we’ll wreath
Wild flowers that breathe;
And the maiden by whom this wreath shall be worn
Shall wear it again on her bridal morn.”—Merritt.

Before the Reformation the Celtic population of Scotland, the Hebrides, Ireland, Wales, and Cornwall were in the habit of naming wells and springs after different saints and martyrs. Though forbidden by the canons of St. Anselm, many pilgrimages continued to be made to them, and the custom was long retained of throwing nosegays into springs and fountains, and chaplets into wells. Sir Walter Scott tells us that “in Perthshire there are several wells dedicated to St. Fillan, which are still places of pilgrimage and offerings, even among Protestants.”

“Thence to St. Fillan’s blessed well
Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel,
And the crazed brain restore.”

Into some of these Highland wells flowers are cast, and occasionally pins, while the surrounding bushes are hung with rags and shreds, in imitation of the old heathen practice. The ceremony of sprinkling rivers with flowers was probably of similar origin. Milton and Dryden both allude to this custom being in vogue as regards the Severn, and this floral rite is described in ‘The Fleece’ as follows:—

“With light fantastic toe the nymphs
Thither assembled, thither every swain;
And o’er the dimpled stream a thousand flowers,
Pale Lilies, Roses, Violets, and Pinks,
Mix’d with the greens of Burnet, Mint, and Thyme,
And Trefoil, sprinkled with their sportive arms.
Such custom holds along th’ irriguous vales,
From Wreken’s brow to rocky Dolvoryn,
Sabrina’s early haunt.”

#### Bridal Floral Ceremonies.

In all countries flowers have from time immemorial been chosen as the happy accompaniment of bridal ceremonies. Among the ancients it was customary to crown newly-married persons with a chaplet of red and white Roses. On arriving at the house of her husband, the Roman bride found woollen fillets round the door-posts, which were adorned with evergreens and blossoms, and anointed with the fat of wolves to avert enchantment.

In M. Barthélemi’s ‘Travels of Young Anacharsis’ the author, describing a marriage ceremony in the Island of Delos, says that the inhabitants of the island assembled at daybreak, crowned with flowers; flowers were strewn in the path of the bride and bridegroom; and the house was garlanded with them. Singers and dancers appeared crowned with Oak, Myrtles, and Hawthorn. The bride and bridegroom were crowned with Poppies, and upon their approach to the temple, a priest received them at the entrance, and presented to each a branch of Ivy—a symbol of the tie which was to unite them for ever.[6]

At Indian nuptials, the wedding wreath, the varamâlâ, united bride and bridegroom. At the marriage feasts of the Persians, a little tree is introduced, the branches of which are laden with fruit: the guests endeavour to pluck these without the bridegroom perceiving them; if successful, the latter has to make them a present; if, however, a guest fails, he has to give the bridegroom a hundred times the value of the object he sought to remove from the tree.

In Germany, among the inhabitants of Oldenburg, there exists a curious wedding custom. When the bridegroom quits his father’s roof to settle in some other town or village, he has his bed linen embroidered at the corners with flowers surmounted by a tree, on whose branches are perched cock birds: on each side of the tree are embroidered the bridegroom’s initials. In many European countries it is customary to plant before the house of a newly-married couple, one or two trees, as a symbol of the good luck wished them by their friends.

#### Floral Games and Festivals.

Floral games have for many years been held at Toulouse, Barcelona, Tortosi, and other places; but the former are the most famed, both on account of their antiquity and the value of the prizes distributed during the fêtes. The ancient city of Toulouse had formerly a great reputation for literature, which had, however, been allowed to decline until the visit of Charles IV. and his bride determined the capitouls or chief magistrates to make an effort to restore its prestige as the centre of Provençal song. Troubadours there were who, banded together in a society, met in the garden of the Augustine monks to recite their songs, sirventes, and ballads; and in order to foster the latent taste for poetry, the capitouls invited the poets of the Langue d’oc, to compete for a golden Violet to be awarded to the author of the best poem produced on May 4th, 1324. The competition created the greatest excitement, and great numbers of people met to hear the judges’ decision: they awarded the golden Violet to Arnaud Vidal for his poem in honour of the Virgin. In 1355, three prizes were offered—a golden Violet for the best song; an Eglantine (Spanish Jasmine), for the best sirvente, or finest pastoral; and a Flor-de-gang (yellow Acacia) for the best ballad. In later years four prizes were competed for, viz., an Amaranth, a Violet, a Pansy, and a Lily. In 1540, Clemence Isaure, a poetess, bequeathed the bulk of her fortune to the civic authorities to be expended in prizes for poetic merits, and in fêtes to be held on the 1st and 3rd of May. She was interred in the church of La Daurade, on the high altar of which are preserved the golden flowers presented to the successful competitors at the Floral Games. The ceremonies of the fêtes thus revived by Clemence Isaure commenced with the strewing of her tomb with Roses, followed by mass, a sermon, and alms-giving. In 1694, the Jeux Floraux were merged into the Academy of Belles Lettres, which gives prizes, but almost exclusively to French poets. The festival, interrupted by the Revolution, was once more revived in 1806, and is still held annually in the Hotel-de-Ville, Toulouse.

St. Medard, Bishop of Noyon, in France, instituted in the sixth century a festival at Salency, his birth-place, for adjudging a most interesting prize offered by piety to virtue. This prize consists of a simple crown of Roses bestowed on the girl who is acknowledged by all her competitors to be the most amiable, modest, and dutiful. The founder of this festival had the pleasure of crowning his own sister as the first Rosiere of Salency. This simple institution still survives, and the crown of Roses continues to be awarded to the most virtuous of the maidens of the obscure French village. A similar prize is awarded in the East of London by an active member of the Roman Catholic Church—the ceremony of crowning the Rose Queen being performed annually in the Crystal Palace at Sydenham.

In the middle ages the Queen of Flowers contributed to a singular popular festival at Treviso, in Italy. In the middle of the city the inhabitants erected a mock castle of upholstery. The most distinguished unmarried females of the place defended the fortress, which was attacked by the youth of the other sex. The missiles with which both parties fought consisted of Roses, Lilies, Narcissi, Violets, Apples, and Nuts, which were hurled at each other by the combatants. Volleys of Rose-water and other perfumes were also discharged by means of syringes. This entertainment attracted thousands of spectators from far and near, and the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa himself accounted it a most pleasing diversion.

The custom of pelting with Roses is still common in Persia, where it is practised during the whole season that these flowers are blooming. A company of young men repair to the places of public entertainment to amuse the guests with music, singing, and dancing, and in their way through the streets they pelt the passengers whom they meet with Roses, and generally receive a small gratuity in return.

Striking features of the Japanese festival on New Year’s Day are the decorations erected in front of nearly every door, of which Mr. Dixon tells us the principal objects are, on the right a Pinus densiflora, on the left a P. Thunbergius, both standing upright: the former is supposed to be of the female and the latter of the male sex, and both symbolise a robust age that has withstood the storms and trials of life. Immediately behind each of the Pines is a Bamboo, the straight stem of which, with the knots marking its growth, indicates hale life and fulness of years. A straw rope of about six feet in length connects the Bamboos seven or more feet from the ground, thus completing the triumphal arch. In the centre of the rope (which is there to ward off evil spirits) is a group in which figures a scarlet lobster, the bent back of which symbolises old age: this is embedded in branches of the Melia Japonica, the older leaves of which still remain after the young ones have burst forth. So may the parents continue to flourish while children and grandchildren spring forth! Another plant in the central group is the Polypodium dicotomon, a Fern which is regarded as a symbol of conjugal life, because the fronds spring in pairs from the stem. There are also bunches of seaweed, which have local significance, and a lucky bag, filled with roasted Chesnuts, the seeds of the Torreya nucifera, and the dried fruit of the Kaki.

#### Garlands, Chaplets, and Wreaths.

All the nations of antiquity—Indians, Chinese, Medes, Persians, Assyrians, Chaldeans, Egyptians, Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans—were accustomed to deck themselves, their altars, and their dwellings with flowers, and to weave chaplets and garlands of leaves and blossoms. In the Vedic Vishnupurâna, the sage Durvâsas (one of the names of Siva, the destroyer), receives of the goddess Srî (the Indian Venus) a garland of flowers gathered from the trees of heaven. Proceeding on his way, he meets the god Indra, seated on an elephant, and to pay him homage he places on his brow the garland, to which the bees fly in order to suck the ambrosia. The Persians were fond of wearing on their heads crowns made of Myrrh and a sweet-smelling plant called Labyzus. Antiochus Epiphanes, the Syrian king, once held some games at Daphne, to which thousands of guests were invited, who, after being richly feasted, were sent away with crowns of Myrrh and Frankincense. Josephus, in his history of the Jews, has recorded the use of crowns in the time of Moses, and on certain occasions the mitre of the High Priest was adorned with a chaplet of Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger). Wreaths and chaplets were in common use among the Egyptians at a very early period; and although the Lotus was principally preferred in their formation, many other flowers and leaves were employed—as of the Chrysanthemum, Acinos, Acacia, Strychnos, Persoluta, Anemone, Convolvulus, Olive, Myrtle, Amaracus, Xeranthemum, Bay-tree, and others. Plutarch says that when Agesilaus visited Egypt, he was so delighted with the chaplets of Papyrus sent him by the King, that he took some home when he returned to Sparta. In India, Greece, and Rome, the sacrificial priests were crowned, and their victims were decorated with garlands of flowers.

In ancient Greece and Rome the manufacture of garlands and chaplets became quite an art, so great was the estimation in which these adornments were held by these highly-civilised nations. With them the composition of a garland possessed a deep significance, and warriors, statesmen, and poets alike coveted these simple insignia at the hands of their countrymen. Pliny tells us that the Sicyonians were considered to surpass all other people in the art of arranging the colours of garlands and imparting to them the most agreeable mixture of perfumes. They derived this taste from Glycera, a woman so skilled in the art of arranging chaplets and garlands that she won the affection of Pausias, a celebrated painter, who delighted in copying the wreaths of flowers so deftly arranged by his mistress. Some of these pictures were still in existence when Pliny wrote, four hundred and fifty years after they were painted. Cato, in his treatise on gardens, directs specially that they should be planted with such flowers as are adapted for chaplets and wreaths. Pliny states that Mnestheus and Callimachus, two renowned Greek physicians, compiled several books on the virtues of chaplets, pointing out those hurtful to the brain, as well as those which had a beneficial influence on the wearer; for both Greeks and Romans had found, by experience, that certain plants and flowers facilitated the functions of the brain, and assisted materially to neutralise the inebriating qualities of wine. Thus, as Horace tells us, the floral chaplets worn by guests at feasts were tied with the bark of the Linden to prevent intoxication.

“I tell thee, boy, that I detest
The grandeur of a Persian feast;
Nor for me the binder’s rind
Shall no flow’ry chaplet bind.
Then search not where the curious Rose,
Beyond his season loitering grows;
But beneath the mantling Vine,
While I quaff the flowing wine,
The Myrtle’s wreath shall crown our brows,
While you shall wait and I carouse.”

Besides the guests at feasts, the attendants were decorated with wreaths, and the wine-cups and apartments adorned with flowers. From an anecdote related by Pliny we learn that it was a frequent custom, common to both Greeks and Romans, to mix the flowers of their chaplets in their wine, when they pledged the healths of their friends. Cleopatra, to ridicule the mistrust of Antony, who would never eat or drink at her table without causing his taster to test every viand, lest any should be poisoned, commanded a chaplet of flowers to be prepared for the Roman General, the edges of which were dipped in the most deadly poison, whilst that which was woven for her own brow was, as usual, mixed with aromatic spices. At the banquet Antony received his coronet of flowers, and when they had become cheerful through the aid of Bacchus, Cleopatra pledged him in wine, and taking off the wreath from her head, and rubbing the blossoms into her goblet, drank off the contents. Antony was following her example, but just as he had raised the fatal cup to his lips, the Queen seized his arm, exclaiming, “Cure your jealous fears, and learn that I should not have to seek the means of your destruction, could I live without you.” She then ordered a prisoner to be brought before them, who, on drinking the wine from Antony’s goblet, instantly expired in their presence.

The Romans wore garlands at sacred rites, games and festivals, on journeys and in war. When an army was freed from a blockade its deliverer was presented with a crown composed of the Grass growing on the spot. In modern heraldry, this crown of Grass is called the Crown Obsidional, and appertains to the general who has held a fortress against a besieging army and ultimately relieved it from the assailants. To him who had saved the life of a Roman soldier was given a chaplet of Oak-leaves: this is the modern heraldic civic crown bestowed on a brave soldier who has saved the life of a comrade or has rescued him after having been taken prisoner by the enemy. The glories of all grand deeds were signalized by the crown of Laurel among both Greeks and Romans. This is the heraldic Crown Triumphant, adjudged in our own times to a general who has achieved a signal victory. The Romans were not allowed by law to appear in festal garlands on ordinary occasions. Hence Cæsar valued most highly the privilege accorded him by the Senate of wearing a Laurel crown, because it screened his baldness, which, both by the Romans and Jews, was considered a deformity. This crown was generally composed of the Alexandrian Laurel (Ruscus Hypoglossum)—the Laurel usually depicted on busts and coins. The victors at the athletic games were adjudged crowns differing in their composition according to the place in which they had won their honours. Thus, crowns of

Olive | were given at the | Olympic | games.
Beech, Laurel, or Palm | were given at the | Pythian | games.
Parsley | were given at the | Nemean | games.
Pine | were given at the | Isthmian | games.

It is not too much to say that Greeks and Romans employed garlands, wreaths, and festoons of flowers on every possible occasion; they adorned with them the sacrificial victims, the statue of the god to whom sacrifice was offered, and the priest who performed the rite. They placed chaplets on the brows of the dead, and strewed their graves with floral wreaths, whilst at their funeral feasts the parents of the departed one encircled their heads with floral crowns. They threw them to the successful actors on the stage. They hung with garlands the gates of their cities on days of rejoicing. They employed floral wreaths at their nuptials. Nearly all the plants composing these wreaths had a symbolical meaning, and they were varied according to the seasons and the circumstances of the wearer. The Hawthorn adorned Grecian brides; but the bridal wreath of the Romans was usually composed of Verbena, plucked by the bride herself. Holly wreaths were sent as tokens of good wishes. Chaplets of Parsley and Rue were worn to keep off evil spirits.

But the employment of garlands has by no means been confined to the ancients. At the present day the inhabitants of India make constant use of them. The Brahmin women, who burn themselves on the funeral pyres of their husbands, deck their persons with chaplets and garlands, and present wreaths to the young women who attend them at this terrible sacrifice. The young Indian girls adorn themselves with garlands during the festival of Kâmadeva, the god of love, which takes place during the last days of spring. In the nuptial ceremonies of India, the garland of flowers is still a feature which possesses a recognised symbolic value. In Northern India garlands of the African Marigold are placed on the trident emblem of Mahâdeva, and both male and female worshippers wear chaplets composed of the same sacred flower on his festivals. The Moo-le-hua, a fragrant Jasmine, is employed in China and other Eastern countries in forming wreaths for the decoration of ladies’ hair, and an Olive crown is still the reward of literary merit in China. The Japanese of both sexes are fond of wearing wreaths of fragrant blossoms.

The Italians have artificers called Festaroli, whose especial office it is to manufacture garlands and festoons of flowers and other decorations for feasts. The maidens of Greece, Germany, and Roumania still bear wreaths of flowers in certain processions which have long been customary in the spring of the year. The Swiss peasants are fond of making garlands, for rural festivities, of the Globe-flower (Trollius Europæus), which grows freely on all the chain of the Alps. In Germany a wreath of Vervain is presented to the newly-married, and in place of the wreath of Orange-blossoms which decorates the brow of the bride in England, France, and America, a chaplet of Myrtle is worn. The blossom of the Bizarade or bitter Orange is most prized for wreaths and favours when the fresh flowers can be procured.

### CHAPTER V.
Plants of the Christian Church.

After Rome Pagan became Rome Christian, the priests of the Church of Christ recognised the importance of utilising the connexion which existed between plants and the old pagan worship, and bringing the floral world into active co-operation with the Christian Church by the institution of a floral symbolism which should be associated not only with the names of saints, but also with the Festivals of the Church.

But it was more especially upon the Virgin Mary that the early Church bestowed their floral symbolism. Mr. Hepworth Dixon, writing of those quiet days of the Virgin’s life, passed purely and tenderly among the flowers of Nazareth, says—“Hearing that the best years of her youth and womanhood were spent, before she yet knew grief, on this sunny hill and side slope, her feet being for ever among the Daisies, Poppies, and Anemones, which grow everywhere about, we have made her the patroness of all our flowers. The Virgin is our Rose of Sharon—our Lily of the Valley. The poetry no less than the piety of Europe has inscribed to her the whole bloom and colouring of the fields and hedges.”

The choicest flowers were wrested from the classic Juno, Venus, and Diana, and from the Scandinavian Bertha and Freyja, and bestowed upon the Madonna, whilst floral offerings of every sort were laid upon her shrines.

Her husband, Joseph, has allotted to him a white Campanula, which in Bologna is known as the little Staff of St. Joseph. In Tuscany the name of St. Joseph’s staff is given to the Oleander: a legend recounts that the good Joseph possessed originally only an ordinary staff, but that when the angel announced to him that he was destined to be the husband of the Virgin Mary, he became so radiant with joy, that his very staff flowered in his hand.

Before our Saviour’s birth, the Virgin Mary, strongly desiring to refresh herself with some luscious cherries that were hanging in clusters upon the branch of a tree, asked Joseph to gather some for her. He hesitated, and mockingly said—“Let the father of thy child present them to you.” Instantly the branch of the Cherry-tree inclined itself to the Virgin’s hand, and she plucked from it the refreshing fruit. On this account the Cherry has always been dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The Strawberry, also, is specially set apart to the Virgin’s use; and in the Isle of Harris a species of Beans, called Molluka Beans, are called, after her, the Virgin Mary’s Nuts.

At Bethlehem, the manger in which the Infant Jesus was laid after His birth was filled with Our Lady’s Bedstraw (Galium verum). Some few drops of the Virgin’s milk fell upon a Thistle, which from that time has had its leaves spotted with white, and is known as Our Lady’s Thistle (Carduus Marianus). In Germany the Polypodium vulgare, which grows in clefts of rocks, is believed to have sprung from the milk of the Virgin (in ancient times from Freyja’s milk). The Pulmonaria is also known as Unser Frauen Milch (Our Lady’s Milk).

When, after the birth of Jesus, His parents fled into Egypt, traditions record that in order that the Virgin might conceal herself and the infant Saviour from the assassins sent out by Herod, various trees opened, or stretched their branches and enlarged their leaves. As the Juniper is dedicated to the Virgin, the Italians consider that it was a tree of that species which thus saved the mother and child, and the Juniper is supposed to possess the power of driving away evil spirits and of destroying magical spells. The Palm, the Willow, and the Rosemary have severally been named as having afforded their shelter to the fugitives. On the other hand, the Lupine, according to a tradition still current among the Bolognese, received the maledictions of the Virgin Mary because, during the flight, certain plants of this species, by the noise they made, drew the attention of the soldiers of Herod to the spot where the harassed travellers had halted.

During the flight into Egypt a legend relates that certain precious bushes sprang up by the fountain where the Virgin washed the swaddling clothes of her Divine babe. These bushes were produced by the drops of water which fell from the clothes, and from which germinated a number of little plants, each yielding precious balm. Wherever the Holy Family rested in their flight sprang up the Rosa Hierosolymitana—the Rosa Mariæ, or Rose of the Virgin. Near the city of On there was shown for many centuries the sacred Fig-tree under which the Holy Family rested. They also, according to Bavarian tradition, rested under a Hazel.

#### Plants of the Virgin Mary.

In Tuscany there grows on walls a rootless little pellitory (Parietaria), with tiny pale-pink flowers and small leaves. They gather it on the morning of the Feast of the Ascension, and suspend it on the walls of bed-rooms till the day of the Nativity of the Virgin (8th September), from which it derives its name—the Herb of the Madonna. It generally opens its flowers after it has been gathered, retaining sufficient sap to make it do so. This opening of a cut flower is regarded by the peasantry as a token of the special blessing of the Virgin. Should the flower not open, it is taken as an omen of the Divine displeasure. In the province of Bellune, in Italy, the Matricaria Parthenium is called the Herb of the Blessed Mary: this flower was formerly consecrated to Minerva.

In Denmark, Norway, and Iceland, they give the name of Mariengras (Herb of Mary) to different Ferns, and in those countries Mary often replaces the goddess Freyja, the Venus of the North, in the names of flowers. No doubt the monks of old delighted in bestowing upon the Virgin Mary the floral attributes of Venus, Freyja, Isis, and other goddesses of the heathen; but, nevertheless, it is not long since that a Catholic writer complained that at the Reformation “the very names of plants were changed in order to divert men’s minds from the least recollection of ancient Christian piety;” and a Protestant writer of the last century, bewailing the ruthless action of the Puritans in giving to the “Queen of Beauty” flowers named after the “Queen of Heaven,” says: “Botany, which in ancient times was full of the Blessed Virgin Mary, ... is now as full of the heathen Venus.”

Amongst the titles of honour given to the Virgin in the ‘Ballad of Commendation of Our Lady,’ in the old editions of Chaucer, we find: “Benigne braunchlet of the Pine tree.”

In England “Lady” in the names of plants generally has allusion to Our Lady, Notre Dame, the Virgin Mary. Our Lady’s Mantle (Alchemilla vulgaris) is the Máríu Stakkr of Iceland, which insures repose when placed beneath the pillow. Scandix Pecten was Our Lady’s Comb, but in Puritan times was changed into Venus’ Comb. The Cardamine pratensis is Our Lady’s Smock; Neottia spiralis, Our Lady’s Tresses; Armeria vulgaris, Our Lady’s Cushion; Anthyllis vulneraria, Our Lady’s Fingers; Campanula hybrida, Our Lady’s Looking-glass; Cypripedium Calceolus, Our Lady’s Slipper; the Cowslip, Our Lady’s Bunch of Keys; Black Briony, Our Lady’s Seal (a name which has been transferred from Solomon’s Seal, of which the ‘Grete Herbal’ states, “It is al one herbe, Solomon’s Seale and Our Lady’s Seale”). Quaking Grass, Briza media, is Our Lady’s Hair; Maidenhair Fern, the Virgin’s Hair; Mary-golds (Calendula officinalis) and Mary-buds (Caltha palustris) are both named after the Virgin Mary. The Campanula and the Digitalis are in France the Gloves of Mary; the Nardus Celtica is by the Germans called Marienblumen; the White-flowered Wormwood is Unser Frauen Rauch (Smoke of Our Lady); Mentha spicata is in French, Menthe de Notre Dame—in German, Unser Frauen Müntz; the Costus hortensis, the Eupatorium, the Matricaria, the Gallitrichum sativum, the Tanacetum, the Persicaria, and a Parietaria are all, according to Bauhin, dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The name of Our Lady’s Tears, or Larmes de Sainte Marie, has been given to the Lily of the Valley, as well as to the Lithospermon of Dioscorides, the Satyrium maculatum, and the Satyrium basilicum majus. The Narcissus Italicus is the Lily of Mary. The Toad Flax is in France Lin de Notre Dame, in Germany, Unser Frauen Flachs. The Dead-Nettle is Main de Sainte Marie. Besides the Alchemilla, the Leontopodium, the Drosera, and the Sanicula major are called on the Continent Our Lady’s Mantle. Woodroof, Thyme, Groundsel, and St. John’s Wort form the bed of Mary.

In Piedmont they give the name of the Herb of the Blessed Mary to a certain plant that the birds are reputed to carry to their young ones which have been stolen and imprisoned in cages, in order that it shall cause their death and thus deliver them from their slavery.

The Snowdrop is the Fair Maid of February, as being sacred to the Purification of the Virgin (February 2nd), when her image was removed from the altar and Snowdrops strewed in its place.

To the Madonna, in her capacity of Queen of Heaven, were dedicated the Almond, the White Iris, the White Lily, and the Narcissus, all appropriate to the Annunciation (March 25th). The Lily and White and Red Roses were assigned to the Visitation of Our Lady (July 2nd): these flowers are typical of the love and purity of the Virgin Mother. To the Feast of the Assumption (August 15th) is assigned the Virgin’s Bower (Clematis Flammula); to the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin (September 8th) the Amellus (Aster Amellus); and to the Conception (December 8th) the Arbor Vitæ.

St. Dominick instituted the “Devotion of the Rosary” of the Virgin Mary—a series of prayers, to mark the repetition of which a chaplet of beads is employed, which consists of fifteen large and one hundred and fifty small beads; the former representing the number of Pater Nosters, the latter the number of Ave Marias. As these beads were formerly made of Rose-leaves tightly pressed into round moulds, where real Roses were not strung together, this chaplet was called a Rosary, and was blessed by the Pope or some other holy person before being so used.

Valeriana sativa is in France called Herbe de Marie Magdaleine, in Germany Marien Magdalenen Kraut; the Pomegranate is the Pommier de Marie Magdaleine and Marien Magdalenen Apfel.

#### The Plants of Our Saviour.

We have seen that at the birth of Christ, the infant Jesus was laid on a manger containing Galium verum, at Bethlehem, a place commemorated by the Ornithogalum umbellatum, or Star of Bethlehem, the flowers of which resemble the pictures of the star that indicated the birth of Jesus. Whilst lying in the manger, a spray of the rose-coloured Sainfoin, says a French legend, was found among the dried grass and herbs which served for His bed. Suddenly the Sainfoin began to expand its delicate blossoms, and to the astonishment of Mary, formed a wreath around the head of the holy babe. In commemoration of the infant Saviour having laid on a manger, it is customary, in some parts of Italy, to deck mangers at Christmas time with Moss, Sow-Thistle, Cypress, and prickly Holly: boughs of Juniper are also used for Christmas decorations, because tradition affirms that the Virgin and Child found safety amongst its branches when pursued by Herod’s mercenaries. The Juniper is also believed to have furnished the wood of the Cross on which Jesus was crucified.

At Christmas, according to an ancient pious tradition, all the plants rejoice. In commemoration of the birth of our Saviour, in countries nearer His birthplace than England, the Apple, Cherry, Carnation, Balm, Rose of Jericho, and Rose of Mariastem (in Alsatia), burst forth into blossom at Christmas, whilst in our own land the day is celebrated by the blossoming of the Glastonbury Thorn, sprung from St. Joseph’s staff, and the flowering of the Christmas Rose, or Christ’s Herb, known in France as la Rose de Noel, and in Germany as Christwurzel.

On Good Friday, in remembrance of the Passion of our Lord, all the trees, says the legend, shudder and tremble. The Swedes and Scotch have a tradition that Christ was scourged with a rod of the dwarf Birch, which was once a noble tree, but has ever since remained stunted and lowly. It is called Láng Fredags ris, or Good Friday rod. There is another legend extant, which states that the rod with which Christ was scourged was cut from a Willow, and that the trees of its species have drooped their branches to the earth in grief and shame from that time, and have, consequently, borne the name of Weeping Willows.

#### The Crown of Thorns.

Sir J. Maundevile, who visited the Holy Land in the fourteenth century, has recorded that he had many times seen the identical crown of Thorns worn by Jesus Christ, one half of which was at Constantinople and the other half at Paris, where it was religiously preserved in a vessel of crystal in the King’s Chapel. This crown Maundevile says was of “Jonkes of the see, that is to sey, Rushes of the see, that prykken als scharpely as Thornes;” he further adds that he had been presented with one of the precious thorns, which had fallen off into the vessel, and that it resembled a White Thorn. The old traveller gives the following circumstantial account of our Lord’s trial and condemnation, from which it would appear that Jesus was first crowned with White Thorn, then with Eglantine, and finally with Rushes of the sea. He writes:—“In that nyghte that He was taken, He was ylad into a gardyn; and there He was first examyned righte scharply; and there the Jewes scorned Him, and maden Him a croune of the braunches of Albespyne, that is White Thorn, that grew in the same gardyn, and setten it on His heved, so faste and so sore, that the blood ran doun be many places of His visage, and of His necke, and of His schuldres. And therefore hathe the White Thorn many vertues; for he that berethe a braunche on him thereoffe, no thondre, ne no maner of tempest may dere him; ne in the hows that it is inne may non evylle gost entre ne come unto the place that it is inne. And in that same gardyn Seynt Petre denyed oure Lord thryes. Aftreward was oure Lord lad forthe before the bischoppes and the maystres of the lawe, in to another gardyn of Anne; and there also He was examyned, repreved, and scorned, and crouned eft with a White Thorn, that men clepethe Barbarynes, that grew in that gardyn; and that hathe also manye vertues. And afterward He was lad into a gardyn of Cayphas, and there He was crouned with Eglentier. And aftre He was lad in to the chambre of Pylate, and there He was examynd and crouned. And the Jewes setten Hym in a chayere and cladde Hym in a mantelle; and there made thei the croune of Jonkes of the see; and there thei kneled to Hym, and skorned Hym, seyenge: ‘Heyl, King of the Jewes!’”

Relics of the Crucifixion. From Maundevile’s Travels.

The illustration represents the Crown of Thorns, worn by our Saviour, his coat without seams, called tunica inconsutilis; the sponge; the reed by means of which the Jews gave our Lord vinegar and gall; and one of the nails wherewith He was fastened to the Cross. All these relics Maundevile tells us he saw at Constantinople.

Of what particular plant was composed the crown of Thorns which the Roman soldiers plaited and placed on the Saviour’s head, has long been a matter of dispute. Gerarde says it was the Paliurus aculeatus, a sharp-spined shrub, which he calls Christ’s Thorn; and the old herbalist quotes Bellonius, who had travelled in the Holy Land, and who stated that this shrubby Thorn was common in Judea, and that it was “The Thorne wherewith they crowned our Saviour Christ.” The melancholy distinction has, however, been variously conferred on the Buckthorns, Rhamnus Spina Christi and R. Paliurus; the Boxthorn, the Barberry, the Bramble, the Rose-briar, the Wild Hyssop, the Acanthus, or Brank-ursine, the Spartium villosum, the Holly (called in Germany, Christdorn), the Acacia, or Nabkha of the Arabians, a thorny plant, very suitable for the purpose, since its flexible twigs could be twisted into a chaplet, and its small but pointed thorns would cause terrible wounds; and, in France, the Hawthorn—the épine noble. The West Indian negroes state that Christ’s crown was composed of a branch of the Cashew-tree, and that in consequence one of the golden petals of its blossom became black and blood-stained.

The Reed Mace (Typha latifolia) is generally represented as the reed placed, in mockery, by the soldiers in the Saviour’s right hand.

#### The Wood of the Cross.

According to the legend connected with the Tree of Adam, the wood of the Cross on which our Lord was crucified was Cedar—a beam hewn from a tree which incorporated in itself the essence of the Cedar, the Cypress, and the Olive (the vegetable emblems of the Holy Trinity). Curzon, in his ‘Monasteries of the Levant,’ gives a tradition that the Cedar was cut down by Solomon, and buried on the spot afterwards called the Pool of Bethesda; that about the time of the Passion of our Blessed Lord the wood floated, and was used by the Jews for the upright posts of the Cross. Another legend makes the Cross of four kinds of wood representing the four quarters of the globe, or all mankind: it is not, however, agreed what those four kinds of wood were, or their respective places in the Cross. Some say they were the Palm, the Cedar, the Olive, and the Cypress; hence the line—

> “Ligna crucis Palma, Cedrus, Cupressus, Oliva.”

In place of the Palm or the Olive, some claim the mournful honour for the Pine and the Box; whilst there are others who aver it was made entirely of Oak. Another account states the wood to have been the Aspen, and since that fatal day its leaves have never ceased trembling with horror.

“Far off in Highland wilds ’tis said
That of this tree the Cross was made.”

In some parts of England it is believed that the Elder was the unfortunate tree; and woodmen will look carefully into the faggots before using them for fuel, in case any of this wood should be bound up in them. The gipsies entertain the notion that the Cross was made of Ash; the Welsh that the Mountain Ash furnished the wood. In the West of England there is a curious tradition that the Cross was made of Mistletoe, which, until the time of our Saviour’s death, had been a goodly forest tree, but was condemned henceforth to become a mere parasite.

Sir John Maundevile asserts that the Cross was made of Palm, Cedar, Cypress, and Olive, and he gives the following curious account of its manufacture:—“For that pece that wente upright fro the erthe to the heved was of Cypresse; and the pece that wente overthwart to the wiche his honds weren nayled was of Palme; and the stock that stode within the erthe, in the whiche was made the morteys, was of Cedre; and the table aboven his heved, that was a fote and an half long, on the whiche the title was written, in Ebreu, Grece, and Latyn, that was of Olyve. And the Jewes maden the Cros of theise 4 manere of trees: for thei trowed that oure Lord Jesu Crist scholde han honged on the Cros als longe as the Cros myghten laste. And therfore made thei the foot of the Cros of Cedre: for Cedre may not in erthe ne in watre rote. And therfore thei wolde that it scholde have lasted longe. For thei trowed that the body of Crist scholde have stonken; therfore thei made that pece that went from the erthe upward, of Cypres: for it is welle smellynge, so that the smelle of His body scholde not greve men that wenten forby. And the overthwart pece was of Palme: for in the Olde Testament it was ordyned that whan on overcomen, He scholde be crowned with Palme. And the table of the tytle thei maden of Olyve; for Olyve betokenethe pes. And the storye of Noe wytnessethe whan that the culver broughte the braunche of Olyve, that betokend pes made betwene God and man. And so trowed the Jewes for to have pes whan Crist was ded: for thei seyd that He made discord and strif amonges hem.”

#### Plants of the Crucifixion.

In Brittany the Vervain is known as the Herb of the Cross. John White, writing in 1624, says of it—

“Hallow’d be thou Vervain, as thou growest in the ground,
For in the Mount of Calvary thou first was found.
Thou healedst our Saviour Jesus Christ
And staunchedst His bleeding wound.
In the name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I take thee from the ground.”

In the Flax-fields of Flanders, there grows a plant called the Roodselken, the red spots on the leaves of which betoken the blood which fell on it from the Cross, and which neither rain nor snow has since been able to wash off. In Cheshire a similar legend is attached to the Orchis maculata, which is there called Gethsemane.

“Those deep unwrought marks,
The villager will tell thee,
Are the flower’s portion from the atoning blood
On Calvary shed. Beneath the Cross it grew.”

In Palestine there exists a notion that the red Anemone grew at the foot of the Cross, and hence the flower bears the name of the “Blood-drops of Christ.” The Wood Sorrel is introduced in their paintings of the Crucifixion by the early Italian painters, perhaps as symbolizing the Trinity with its triple leaf.

Whilst wearily bearing His Cross on the way to Calvary, our Lord passed by the door of St. Veronica, who, with womanly compassion, wiped with her kerchief the drops of agony from His brow. The Redeemer’s features remained miraculously impressed on the linen, and from that time the flowers of the wayside Speedwell have ever borne a representation of the precious relic. In Brittany it is said that whilst Christ was bearing His Cross a little robin took from His mocking crown one of the thorns, steeped in His blood, which dyed the robin’s breast; henceforth the robin has always been the friend of man.

“Bearing His cross, while Christ passed forth forlorn,
His God-like forehead by the mock crown torn,
A little bird took from that crown one thorn,
To soothe the dear Redeemer’s throbbing head,
That bird did what she could; His blood, ’tis said,
Down dropping, dyed her bosom red.”—J. H. Abrahall.

The early Spanish settlers of South America saw in the Flor de las cinco llagas, the Flower of the Five Wounds, or Passion Flower, a marvellous floral emblem of the mysteries of Christ’s Passion, and the Jesuits eagerly adopted it as likely to prove useful in winning souls to their faith.

An old legend, probably of monkish origin, recounts the emotions of plants on the death of the Saviour of mankind.

The Pine of Damascus said:—As a sign of mourning, from this day my foliage will remain sombre, and I will dwell in solitary places.

The Willow of Babylon.—My branches shall henceforth incline towards the waters of the Euphrates, and there shed the tears of the East.

The Vine of Sorrento.—My grapes shall be black, and the wine that shall flow from my side shall be called Lacryma Christi.

The Cypress of Carmel.—I will be the guest of the tombs, and the testimony of grief.

The Yew.—I will be the guardian of graveyards. No bee shall pillage with impunity my poisoned flowers. No bird shall rest on my branches; for my exhalations shall give forth death.

The Iris of Susa.—Henceforth I will wear perpetual mourning, in covering with a violet veil my golden chalice.

The Day Lily.—I will shut every evening my sweet-smelling corolla, and will only re-open it in the morning with the tears of the night.

In the midst of these lamentations of the flowers the Poplar alone held himself upright, cold, and arrogant as a free-thinker. As a punishment for this pride, from that day forth, at the least breath of wind it trembles in all its limbs. Revolutionists have, therefore, made it the Tree of Liberty.

#### The Tree of Judas Iscariot.

In connection with the Crucifixion of our Lord many trees have had the ill-luck of bearing the name of the traitor Judas—the disciple who, after he had sold his Master, in sheer remorse and despair went and hanged himself on a tree.

The Tree of Judas. From Maundevile’s Travels.

The Fig, the Tamarisk, the Wild Carob, the Aspen, the Elder, and the Dog Rose have each in their turn been mentioned as the tree on which the suicide was committed. As regards the Fig, popular tradition affirms that the tree, after Judas had hung himself on it, never again bore fruit; that the Fig was the identical Fig-tree cursed by our Lord; and that all the wild Fig-trees sprang from this accursed tree. According to a Sicilian tradition, however, Judas did not hang himself on a Fig but on a Tamarisk-tree called Vruca (Tamarix Africana): this Vruca is now only a shrub, although formerly it was a noble tree; at the time of Judas’ suicide it was cursed by God, and thenceforth became a shrub, ill-looking, misshapen, and useless. In England, according to Gerarde, the wild Carob is the Judas-tree (Cercis Siliquastrum): this Arbor Judæ was in olden times known as the wild or foolish Cod. By many, however, the Elder has been supposed to be the fatal tree: thus we read in Piers Plowman’s ‘Vision’:—

“Judas he japed
With Jewen silver,
And sithen on an Eller
Hanged hymselve.”

Sir John Maundevile, from whose work the foregoing illustration has been copied, corroborates this view; for he tells us that in his day there stood in the vicinity of Mount Sion “the tree of Eldre, that Judas henge him self upon, for despeyr.”

A Russian proverb runs:—“There is an accursed tree which trembles without even a breath of wind,” in allusion to the Aspen (Populus tremula); and in the Ukraine they say that the leaves of this tree have quivered and shaken since the day that Judas hung himself on it.

#### The Plants of St. John.

Popular tradition associates St. John the Baptist with numerous marvels of the plant world. St. John was supposed to have been born at midnight; and on the eve of his anniversary, precisely at twelve o’clock, the Fern blooms and seeds, and this wondrous seed, gathered at that moment, renders the possessor invisible: thus, in Shakspeare’s Henry IV., Gadshill says: “We have the receipt of Fern-seed, we walk invisible.”

The Fairies, commanded by their queen, and the demons, commanded by Satan, engage in fierce combats at this mysterious time, for the possession of the invisible seed.

In Russia, on St. John’s Eve, they seek the flower of the Paporot (Aspidium Filix mas), which flowers only at the precise moment of midnight, and will enable the lucky gatherer, who has watched it flower, to realise all his desires, to discover hidden treasures, and to recover cattle stolen or strayed. In the Ukraine it is thought that the gatherer of the Fern-flower will be endowed with supreme wisdom.

The Russian peasants also gather, on the night of the Vigil of St. John, the Tirlic, or Gentiana Amarella, a plant much sought after by witches, and only to be gathered by those who have been fortunate enough first to have found the Plakun (Lythrum Salicaria), which must be gathered on the morning of St. John, without using a knife or other instrument in uprooting it. This herb the Russians hold to be very potent against witches, bad spirits, and the evil eye. A cross cut from the root of the Plakun, and worn on the person, causes the wearer to be feared as much as fire. Another herb which should be gathered on St. John’s Eve is the Hieracium Pilosella, called in Germany Johannisblut (blood of St. John): it brings good-luck, but must be uprooted with a gold coin.

In many countries, before the break of day on St. John’s morning, the dew which has fallen on vegetation is gathered with great care. This dew is justly renowned, for it purifies all the noxious plants and imparts to certain others a fabulous power. By some it is treasured because it is believed to preserve the eyes from all harm during the succeeding year. In Venetia the dew is reputed to renew the roots of the hair on the baldest of heads. It is collected in a small phial, and a herb called Basilica is placed in it. In Normandy and the Pyrenees it is used as a wash to purify the skin; in Brittany it is thought that, thus used, it will drive away fever; and in Italy, Roumania, Sweden, and Iceland it is believed to soften and beautify the complexion. In Egypt the nucta or miraculous drop falls before sunrise on St. John’s Day, and is supposed to have the effect of stopping the plague. In Sicily they gather the Hypericum perforatum, or Herb of St. John, and put it in oil, which is by this means transformed into a balm infallible for the cure of wounds.

In Spain garlands of flowers are plucked in the early morn of St. John’s Day, before the dew has been dried by the sun, and a favourite wether is decked with them, the village lasses singing—

“Come forth, come forth, my maidens, we’ll gather Myrtle boughs,
And we shall learn from the dews of the Fern if our lads will keep their vows:
If the wether be still, as we dance on the hill, and the dew hangs sweet on the flowers,
Then we’ll kiss off the dew, for our lovers are true, and the Baptist’s blessing is ours.”

The populace of Madrid were long accustomed, on St. John’s Eve, to wander about the fields in search of Vervain, from a superstitious notion that this plant possesses preternatural powers when gathered at twelve o’clock on St. John’s Eve.

In some parts of Russia the country people heat their baths on the Eve of St. John and place in them the herb Kunalnitza (Ranunculus); in other parts they place herbs, gathered on the same anniversary, upon the roofs of houses and stables, as a safeguard against evil spirits. The French peasantry rub the udders of their cows with similar herbs, to ensure plenty of milk, and place them over the doorways of cattle sheds and stables.

On the Eve of St. John, Lilies, Orpine, Fennel, and every variety of Hypericum are hung over doors and windows. Garlands of Vervain and Flax are also suspended inside houses; but the true St. John’s garland is composed of seven elements, namely white Lilies, green Birch, Fennel, Hypericum, Wormwood, and the legs of game birds: these are believed to have immense power against evil spirits. After daybreak on St. John’s Day it is dangerous to pluck herbs; the gatherer running the risk of being afflicted with cancer.

According to Bauhin, the following plants are consecrated to St. John:—First and specially the Hypericum, or perforated St. John’s Wort, the fuga dæmonum, or devil’s flight, so named from the virtue ascribed to it of frightening away evil spirits, and acting as a charm against witchcraft, enchantment, storms, and thunder. It is also called Tutsan, or All-heal, from its virtues in curing all kinds of wounds; and Sanguis hominis, because of the blood-red juice of its flowers.

The leaves of the common St. John’s Wort are marked with blood-like spots, which alway appear on the 29th of August, the day on which the Baptist was beheaded. The “Flower of St. John” is the Chrysanthemum (Corn Marigold), or, according to others, the Buphthalmus (Ox-Eye) or the Anacyclus. Grapes of St. John are Currants. The Belt or Girdle of St. John is Wormwood. The Herbs of St. John comprise also Mentha sarracenica or Costus hortensis; Gallithricum sativum or Centrum galli or Orminum sylvestre; in Picardy Abrotanum (a species of Southernwood); and, according to others, the Androsæmon (Tutsan), the Scrophularia, and the Crassula major. The scarlet Lychnis Coronaria is said to be lighted up on his day, and was formerly called Candelabrum ingens. A species of nut is named after the Saint. The Carob is St. John’s Mead, so called because it is supposed to have supplied him with food in the wilderness, and to be the “locusts” mentioned in the Scriptures.

The festival of St. John would seem to be a favourite time with maidens to practice divination in their love affairs. On the eve of St. John, English girls set up two plants of Orpine on a trencher, one for themselves and the other for their lover; and they estimate the lover’s fidelity by his plant living and turning to theirs, or otherwise. They also gather a Moss-rose so soon as the dew begins to fall, and, taking it indoors, carefully keep it till New Year’s Eve, when, if the blossom is faded, it is a sign of the lover’s insincerity, but if it still retains its common colour, he is true. On this night, also, Hemp-seed is sown with certain mystic ceremonies. In Brittany, on the Saint’s Vigil, young men wearing bunches of green Wheat-ears, and lasses decked with Flax-blossoms, assemble round one of the old pillar-stones and dance round it, placing their wreath upon it. If it remains fresh for some time after, the lover is to be trusted, but should it wither within a day or two, so will the love prove but transient. In Sweden, on St. John’s Eve, young maidens arrange a bouquet composed of nine different flowers, among which the Hypericum, or St. John’s Wort, or the Ox-eye Daisy, St. John’s Flower, must be conspicuous. The flowers must be gathered from nine different places, and the posy be placed beneath the maiden’s pillow. Then he who she sees in her dreams will be sure soon to arrive.[7]

“The village maids mysterious tales relate
Of bright Midsummer’s sleepless nights; the Fern
That time sheds secret seeds; and they prepare
Untold-of rites, predictive of their fate:
Virgins in silent expectation watch
Exact at twelve’s propitious hour, to view
The future lover o’er the threshold pass;
Th’ inviting door wide spread, and every charm
Performed, while fond hope flutters in the breast,
And credulous fancy, painting his known form,
Kindles concordant to their ardent wish.”—Bidlake.

#### Flowers of the Saints.

In the dark ages the Catholic monks, who cultivated with assiduity all sorts of herbs and flowers in their monastic gardens, came in time to associate them with traditions of the Church, and to look upon them as emblems of particular saints. Aware, also, of the innate love of humanity for flowers, they selected the most popular as symbols of the Church festivals, and in time every flower became connected with some saint of the Calendar, either from blowing about the time of the saint’s day, or from being connected with him in some old legend.

St. Benedict’s herbs are the Avens, the Hemlock, and the Valerian, which were assigned to him as being antidotes; a legend of the saint relating that upon his blessing a cup of poisoned wine, which a monk had presented to him to destroy him, the glass was shivered to pieces. To St. Gerard was dedicated the Ægopodium Podagraria, because it was customary to invoke the saint against the gout, for which this plant was esteemed a remedy. St. Christopher has given his name to the Baneberry (Actæa spicata), the Osmund Fern (Osmunda regalis), the Fleabane (Pulicaria dysenterica), and, according to old herbalists, to several other plants, including Betonica officinalis, Vicia Cracca and Sepium, Gnaphalium germanicum, Spiræa ulmaria, two species of Wolf’s Bane, &c. St. George has numerous plants named after or dedicated to him. In England his flower is the Harebell, but abroad the Peony is generally called after him. His name is also bestowed on the Lilium convallium. The Herb of St. George is the Valeriana sativa; his root, Dentaria major; his Violet, Leucoium luteum; his fruit, Cucumis agrestis. In Asia Minor the tree of St. George is the Carob. The Eryngium was dedicated to St. Francis under the name of St. Francis’s Thorn. Bunium flexuosum, is St. Anthony’s nut—a pig-nut, because he is the patron of pigs; and Senecio Jacobæa is St. James’s Wort (the saint of horses and colts)—used in veterinary practice. The Cowslip is dedicated to St. Peter, as Herb Peter of the old herbals, from some resemblance which it has to his emblem—a bunch of keys. As the patron of fishermen, Crithmum maritimum, which grows on sea-cliffs, was dedicated to this saint, and called in Italian San Pietro, in French Saint Pierre, and in English Samphire. Most of these saintly names were, however, given to the plants because their day of flowering is connected with the festival of the saint. Hence Hypericum guadrangulare is the St. Peter’s Wort of the modern floras, from its flowering on the 29th of June. The Daisy, as Herb Margaret, is popularly supposed to be dedicated to “Margaret that was so meek and mild;” probably from its blossoming about her day, the 22nd of February: in reality, however, the flower derived its name from St. Margaret of Cortona. Barbarea vulgaris, growing in the winter, is St. Barbara’s Cress, her day being the fourth of December, old style; and Centaurea solstitialis derives its Latin specific, and its popular name, St. Barnaby’s Thistle, from its flourishing on the longest day, the 11th of June, old style, which is now the 22nd. Nigella damascena, whose persistent styles spread out like the spokes of a wheel, is named Katharine’s flower, after St. Katharine, who suffered martyrdom on a wheel. The Cranesbill is called Herb Robert, in honour of St. Robert, Abbot of Molesme and founder of the Cistercian Order. The Speedwell is St. Paul’s Betony. Archangel is a name given to one umbelliferous and three labiate plants. An angel is said to have revealed the virtues of the plants in a dream. The umbelliferous plant, it has been supposed, has been named Angelica Archangelica, from its being in blossom on the 8th of May, old style, the Archangel St. Michael’s Day. Flowering on the fête day of such a powerful angel, the plant was supposed to be particularly useful as a preservative of men and women from evil spirits and witches, and of cattle from elfshot.

Roses are the special flowers of martyrs, and, according to a tradition, they sprang from the ashes of a saintly maiden of Bethlehem who perished at the stake. Avens (Geum urbanum) the Herba benedicta, or Blessed Herb, is a plant so blessed that no venomous beast will approach within scent of it; and, according to the author of the Ortus sanitatis, “where the root is in a house, the devil can do nothing, and flies from it, wherefore it is blessed above all other herbs.” The common Snowdrops are called Fair Maids of February. This name also, like the Saints’ names, arises from an ecclesiastical coincidence: their white flowers blossom about the second of February, when maidens, dressed in white, walked in procession at the Feast of the Purification.

The name of Canterbury Bells was given to the Campanula, in honour of St. Thomas of England, and in allusion probably to the horse-bells of the pilgrims to his shrine. Saxifraga umbrosa is both St. Patrick’s cabbage and St. Anne’s needlework; Polygonum Persicaria is the Virgin’s Pinch; Polytrichum commune, St. Winifred’s Hair; Myrrhis odorata, Sweet Cicely; Origanum vulgare, Sweet Margery; Oscinium Basilicum, Sweet Basil. Angelica sylvestris, the Root of the Holy Ghost; Hedge Hyssop, Cranesbill, and St. John’s Wort are all surnamed Grace of God; the Pansy, having three colours on one flower, is called Herb Trinity; the four-leaved Clover is an emblem of the Cross, and all cruciform flowers are deemed of good omen, having been marked with the sign of the Cross. The Hemp Agrimony is the Holy Rope, after the rope with which Christ was bound; and the Hollyhock is the Holy Hock (an old word for Mallow).

The feeling which inspired this identification of flowers and herbs with holy personages and festivals is gracefully expressed by a Franciscan in the following passage:—“Mindful of the Festivals which our Church prescribes, I have sought to make these objects of floral nature the timepieces of my religious calendar, and the mementos of the hastening period of my mortality. Thus I can light the taper to our Virgin Mother on the blowing of the white Snowdrop, which opens its flower at the time of Candlemas; the Lady’s Smock and the Daffodil remind me of the Annunciation; the blue Harebell, of the Festival of St. George; the Ranunculus, of the Invention of the Cross; the Scarlet Lychnis, of St. John the Baptist’s day; the white Lily, of the Visitation of our Lady; and the Virgin’s Bower, of the Assumption; and Michaelmas, Martinmas, Holy Rood, and Christmas have all their appropriate decorations.” In later times we find the Church’s Calendar of English flowers embodied in the following lines:—

“The Snowdrop, in purest white arraie,
First rears her hedde on Candlemass daie:
While the Crocus hastens to the shrine
Of Primrose lone on S. Valentine.
Then comes the Daffodil beside
Our Ladye’s Smock at our Ladye tide,
Aboute S. George, when blue is worn,
The blue Harebells the fields adorn;
Against the daie of the Holie Cross,
The Crowfoot gilds the flowrie grasse.
When S. Barnabie bright smiles night and daie,
Poor Ragged Robbin blooms in the hay.
The scarlet Lychnis, the garden’s pride,
Flames at S. John the Baptist’s tide;
From Visitation to S. Swithen’s showers,
The Lillie white reigns queen of the floures
And Poppies a sanguine mantle spread,
For the blood of the dragon S. Margaret shed,
Then under the wanton Rose agen,
That blushes for penitent Magdalen,
Till Lammas Daie, called August’s Wheel,
When the long Corn smells of Cammomile.
When Marie left us here belowe,
The Virgin’s Bower is full in blowe;
And yet anon the full Sunflower blew,
And became a starre for S. Bartholomew.
The Passion-flower long has blowed,
To betoken us signs of the holie rood:
The Michaelmass Dasie among dede weeds,
Blooms for S. Michael’s valorous deeds,
And seems the last of the floures that stood,
Till the feste of S. Simon and S. Jude;
Save Mushrooms and the Fungus race,
That grow till All Hallowtide takes place.
Soon the evergreen Laurel alone is green,
When Catherine crownes all learned menne;
Then Ivy and Holly berries are seen,
And Yule clog and wassail come round agen.”
Anthol. Bor. et Aus.

The Roman Catholics have compiled a complete list of flowers, one for every day in the year, in which each flower has been dedicated to a particular saint, usually for no better reason than because it bloomed about the date of the saint’s feast day. This Saints’ Floral Directory is to be found in extenso in Hone’s ‘Every-day Book.’ In the Anglican church the principal Festivals or Red Letter Days have each their appropriate flowers assigned them, as will be seen from the following table:—

DATE. | SAINT. | APPROPRIATE FLOWER.
--- | --- | ---
Nov. 30. | S. Andrew. | S. Andrew’s Cross—Ascyrum Crux Andreæ.
Dec. 21. | S. Thomas. | Sparrow Wort—Erica passerina.
Dec. 25. | Christmas. | Holly—Ilex bacciflora.
Dec. 26. | S. Stephen. | Purple Heath—Erica purpurea.
Dec. 27. | S. John Evan. | Flame Heath—Erica flammea.
Dec. 28. | Innocents. | Bloody Heath—Erica cruenta.
Jan. 1. | Circumcision. | Laurustine—Viburnum tinus.
Jan. 6. | Epiphany. | Screw Moss—Tortula rigida.
Jan. 25. | Conversion of S. Paul. | Winter Hellebore—Helleborus hyemalis.
Feb. 2. | Purification of B. V. M. | Snowdrop—Galanthus nivalis.
Feb. 24. | S. Matthias. | Great Fern—Osmunda regalis.
Mar. 25. | Annunciation of B. V. M. | Marigold—Calendula officinalis.
Apr. 25. | S. Mark. | Clarimond Tulip—Tulipa præcox.
May 1. | S. Philip and S. James. | Tulip—Tulipa Gesneri, dedicated to S. Philip. Red Campion—Lychnis dioica rubra. Red Bachelor’s Buttons—Lychnis dioica plena, dedicated to S. James.
June 11. | S. Barnabas. | Midsummer Daisy—Chrysanthemum leucanthemum.
June 24. | S. John Baptist. | S. John’s Wort—Hypericum pulchrum.
June 29. | S. Peter | Yellow Rattle—Rhinanthus Galli.
July 25. | S. James | Herb Christopher—Actæa spicata.
Aug. 24. | S. Bartholomew | Sunflower—Helianthus annuus.
Sept. 21. | S. Matthew | Ciliated Passion-flower.—Passiflora ciliata.
Sept. 29. | S. Michael. | Michaelmas Daisy—Aster Tradescanti.
Oct. 18. | S. Luke. | Floccose Agaric—Agaricus floccosus.
Oct. 28. | S. Simon and S. Jude | Late Chrysanthemum—Chrysanthemum serotinum. Scattered Starwort—Aster passiflorus, dedicated to S. Jude.
Nov. 1. | All Saints. | Amaranth.

In old church calendars Christmas Eve is marked “Templa exornantur”—Churches are decked.

Herrick, in the time of Charles I., thus combines a number of these old customs connected with the decoration of churches—

“Down with Rosemary and Bays,
Down with the Mistletoe,
Instead of Holly now upraise
The greener Box for show.
The Holly hitherto did sway;
Let Box now domineer,
Until the dancing Easter Day
Or Easter’s Eve appear.
Then youthful Box, which now hath grace
Your houses to renew,
Grown old, surrender must his place
Unto the crisped Yew.
When Yew is out, then Birch comes in,
And many flowers beside,
Both of a fresh and fragrant kin,
To honour Whitsuntide.
Green Rushes then, and sweetest Bents,
With cooler Oaken boughs,
Come in for comely ornaments
To re-adorn the house.
Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold,
New things succeed as former things grow old.”

#### Flowers of the Church’s Festivals.

In the services of the Church every season has its appropriate floral symbol. In olden times on Feast days places of worship were significantly strewed with bitter herbs. On the Feast of Dedication (the first Sunday in October) the Church was decked with boughs and strewn with sweet Rushes; for this purpose Juncus aromaticus (now known as Acorus Calamus) was used.

“The Dedication of the Church is yerely had in minde,
With worship passing Catholicke, and in a wondrous kinde.
From out the steeple hie is hanged a crosse and banner fayre,
The pavement of the temple strowde with hearbes of pleasant ayre;
The pulpets and the aulters all that in the Church are seene,
And every pewe and pillar great are deckt with boughs of greene.”
T. Naogeorgus, trans. by Barnabe Googe, 1570.

It was customary to strew Rushes on the Church floor on all high days. Newton, in his ‘Herbal to the Bible’ (1587), speaks of “Sedge and Rushes, with which many in the country do use in Summer time to strewe their parlors and Churches, as well for coolness and for pleasant smell.” Cardinal Wolsey in the pride of his pomp had the strewings of his great hall at Hampton Court renewed every day. Till lately the floor of Norwich Cathedral was strewn with Acorus Calamus on festal days, and when the Acorus was scarce, the leaves of the yellow Iris were used. At the church of St. Mary Redcliffe, Bristol, Rushes are strewn every Whitsuntide. The parish of Middleton-Cheney, Northamptonshire, has a benefaction to provide hay for strewing the Church in summer, the rector providing straw in the winter. In Prussia Holcus odoratus is considered Holy Grass, and is used for strewing purposes. The Rush-bearings which are still held in Westmoreland, and were until quite recently general in Cheshire, would appear to be a relic of the custom of the Dedication Feast. At these Rush-bearings young men and women carry garlands in procession through the village to the Church, which they enter and decorate with their floral tributes. Besides giving the Church a fresh strewing every feast day, it was in olden times customary to deck it with boughs and flowers; and as the flowers used at festivals were originally selected because they happened to be in bloom then, so in time they came to be associated therewith.

On Palm Sunday, it was customary for the congregation to carry Palm branches in procession, and deposit them on the altar of the Church to be blessed, after which they were again distributed to the people. Various substitutes for the Eastern Palm were used in England, but the most popular was the Sallow, because its lithe green wands, full of sap, and covered with golden catkins, were at that season of the year the things most full of life and blossom. Yew branches were also employed for Palm, and some Churches were decked with boughs of Box.

White Broom and white flowers of all descriptions are applicable to the great festival of Easter, as well as purple Pasque flowers and golden Daffodils. The peasants of Bavaria weave garlands of the fragrant Coltsfoot (Nardosmia fragrans) on Easter Day, and cast them into the fire. In Rogation Week processions perambulated the parishes with the Holy Cross and Litanies, to mark the boundaries and to invoke the blessing of God on the crops: on this occasion maidens made themselves garlands and nosegays of the Rogation-flower, Polygala vulgaris, called also the Cross-, Gang-, and Procession-flower.

On Ascension Day it is customary in Switzerland to suspend wreaths of Edelweiss over porches and windows,—this flower of the Alps being, like the Amaranth, considered an emblem of immortality, and peculiarly appropriate to the festival.

May Day, in olden times, was the anniversary of all others which was associated with floral ceremonies. In the early morn all ranks of people went out a-Maying, returning laden with Hawthorn blossoms and May flowers, to decorate churches and houses. Shakspeare notices how, in his day, every one was astir betimes:—

“’Tis as much improbable,
Unless we swept them from the door with cannons,
To scatter ’em, as ’tis to make ’em sleep
On May-day morning.”

It being also the festival of SS. Philip and James, the feast partook somewhat of a religious character. The people not only turned the streets into leafy avenues, and their door-ways into green arbours, and set up a May-pole decked with ribands and garlands, and an arbour besides for Maid Marian to sit in, to witness the sports, but the floral decorations extended likewise into the Church. We learn from Aubrey that the young maids of every parish carried about garlands of flowers, which they afterwards hung up in their Churches; and Spenser sings how, at sunrise—

“Youth’s folke now flocken in everywhere
To gather May-buskets and smelling Brere;
And home they hasten the postes to dight
And all the Kirke pillours ere day light
With Hawthorn buds and sweete Eglantine,
And girlonds of Roses, and Soppes-in-wine.”

The beautiful milk-white Hawthorn blossom is essentially the flower of the season, but in some parts of England the Lily of the Valley is considered as “The Lily of the May.” In Cornwall and Devon Lilac is esteemed the May-flower, and special virtues are attached to sprays of Ivy plucked at day-break with the dew on them. In Germany the Kingcup, Lily of the Valley, and Hepatica are severally called Mai-blume.

Whitsuntide flowers in England are Lilies of the Valley and Guelder Roses, but according to Chaucer (‘Romaunt of the Rose’) Love bids his pupil—

“Have hatte of floures fresh as May,
Chapelett of Roses of Whit-Sunday,
For sich array ne costeth but lite.”

The Germans call Broom Pentecost-bloom, and the Peony the Pentecost Rose. The Italians call Whitsunday Pasqua Rosata, Roses being then in flower.

To Trinity Sunday belong the Herb-Trinity or Pansy and the Trefoil. On St. Barnabas Day, as on St. Paul’s Day, the churches were decked with Box, Woodruff, Lavender, and Roses, and the officiating Priests wore garlands of Roses on their heads.

On Royal Oak Day (May 29th), in celebration of the restoration of King Charles II., and to commemorate his concealment in an aged Oak at Boscobel, gilded Oak-leaves and Apples are worn, and Oak-branches are hung over doorways and windows. From this incident in the life of Charles II., the Oak derives its title of Royal.

“Blest Charles then to an Oak his safety owes;
The Royal Oak, which now in song shall live,
Until it reach to Heaven with its boughs;
Boughs that for loyalty shall garlands give.”

On Corpus Christi Day it was formerly the custom in unreformed England to strew the streets through which the procession passed with flowers, and to decorate the church with Rose and other garlands. In North Wales a relic of these ceremonies lingered till lately in the practice of strewing herbs and flowers at the doors of houses on the Corpus Christi Eve. In Roman Catholic countries flowers are strewed along the streets in this festival, and the route of the procession at Rome is covered with Bay and other fragrant leaves.

On the Vigil of St. John the Baptist, Stowe tells us that in his time every man’s door was shadowed with green Birch, long Fennel, St. John’s Wort, Orpine, white Lilies, and such like, garnished upon with garlands of beautiful flowers, and also lamps of glass, with oil burning in them all night. Birch is the special tree, as the yellow St. John’s Wort (Hypericum) is the special flower, of St. John. In the life of Bishop Horne we read that in the Court of Magdalen, Oxford, a sermon used to be preached on this day from the stone pulpit in the corner, and “the quadrangle was furnished round with a large fence of green boughs, that the meeting might more nearly resemble that of John Baptist in the wilderness.”

On All Saints’ or All Hallows’ Day, Roman Catholics are wont to visit the graves of departed relatives or friends, and place on them wreaths of Ivy, Moss, and red Berries. On the Eve of this day, Hallowe’en (October 31st), many superstitious customs are still practised. In the North young people dive for Apples, and for divining purposes fling Nuts into the fire; hence the vulgar name of Nut-crack Night. In Scotland young women determine the figure and size of their future husbands by paying a visit to the Kail or Cabbage garden, and “pu’ing the Kailstock” blindfold. They also on this night throw Hazel Nuts in the fire, named for two lovers, judging according as they burn quickly together, or start apart, the course of their love.

At Christmas tide Holly (the “holy tree”), Rosemary, Laurel, Bay, Arbor Vitæ, and Ivy are hung up in churches, and are suitable also for the decoration of houses, with the important addition of Mistletoe (which, on account of its Druidic connection, is interdicted in places of worship). Ivy should only be placed in outer passages or doorways. At Christmas, which St. Gregory termed the “festival of all festivals,” the evergreens with which the churches are ornamented are a fitting emblem of that time when, as God says by the prophet Isaiah, “I will plant in the wilderness the Cedar, the Shittah tree and the Myrtle, and the Oil tree; I will set in the desert the Fir tree and the Pine, and the Box tree together (xli., 19). The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the Fir tree, the Pine tree, and the Box together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary; and I will make the place of my feet glorious” (lx., 13).

#### Gospel Oaks and Memorial Trees.

There exist in different parts of England several ancient trees, notably Oaks, which are traditionally said to have been called Gospel trees in consequence of its having been the practice in times long past to read under a tree which grew upon a boundary-line a portion of the Gospel on the annual perambulation of the bounds of the parish on Ascension Day. In Herrick’s poem of the ‘Hesperides’ occur these lines in allusion to this practice:—

“Dearest, bury me
Under that holy Oak or Gospel tree,
Where, though thou see’st not, thou mayest think upon
Me when thou yearly go’st in procession.”

Many of these old trees were doubtless Druidical, and under their “leafy tabernacles” the pioneers of Christianity had probably preached and expounded the Scriptures to a pagan race. The heathen practice of worshipping the gods in woods and trees continued for many centuries, till the introduction of Christianity; and the first missionaries sought to adopt every means to elevate the Christian worship to higher authority than that of paganism by acting on the senses of the heathen. St. Augustine, Evelyn tells us, held a kind of council under an Oak in the West of England, concerning the right celebration of Easter and the state of the Anglican church; “where also it is reported he did a great miracle.” On Lord Bolton’s estate in the New Forest stands a noble group of twelve Oaks known as the Twelve Apostles: there is another group of Oaks extant known as the Four Evangelists. Beneath the venerable Yews at Fountain Abbey, Yorkshire, the founders of the Abbey held their council in 1132.

“Cross Oaks” were so called from their having been planted at the junction of cross roads, and these trees were formerly resorted to by aguish patients, for the purpose of transferring to them their malady.

Venerable and noble trees have in all ages and in all countries been ever regarded with special reverence. From the very earliest times such trees have been consecrated to holy uses. Thus, the Gomerites, or descendants of Noah, were, if tradition be true, accustomed to offer prayers and oblations beneath trees; and, following the example of his ancestors, the Patriarch Abraham pitched his tents beneath the Terebinth Oaks of Mamre, erected an altar to the Lord, and performed there sacred and priestly rites. Beneath an Oak, too, the Patriarch entertained the Deity Himself. This tree of Abraham remained till the reign of Constantine the Great, who founded a venerable chapel under it, and there Christians, Jews, and Arabs held solemn anniversary meetings, believing that from the days of Noah the spot shaded by the tree had been a consecrated place.

Dean Stanley tells us that “on the heights of Ephraim, on the central thoroughfare of Palestine, near the Sanctuary of Bethel, stood two famous trees, both in after times called by the same name. One was the Oak-tree or Terebinth of Deborah, under which was buried, with many tears, the nurse of Jacob (Gen. xxxv. 8). The other was a solitary Palm, known in after times as the Palm-tree of Deborah. Under this Palm, as Saul afterwards under the Pomegranate-tree of Migron, as St. Louis under the Oak-tree of Vincennes, dwelt that mother in Israel, Deborah, the wife of Lapidoth, to whom the sons of Israel came to receive her wise answers.”

Since the time when Solomon cut the Cedars of Lebanon for the purpose of employing them in the erection of the Temple of the Lord, this renowned forest has been greatly shorn of its glories; but a grove of nearly four hundred trees still exists. Twelve of the most valuable of these trees bear the titles of “The Friends of Solomon,” or “The Twelve Apostles.” Every year the Maronites, Greeks, and Armenians go up to the Cedars, at the Feast of the Transfiguration, and celebrate mass on a homely stone altar erected at their feet.

In Evelyn’s time there existed, near the tomb of Cyrus, an extraordinary Cypress, which was said to exude drops of blood every Friday. This tree, according to Pietro della Valla, was adorned with many lamps, and fitted for an oratory, and was for ages resorted to by pious pilgrims.

Thevenot and other Eastern travellers mention a tree which for centuries had been regarded with peculiar reverence. “At Matharee,” says Thevenot, “is a large garden surrounded by walls, in which are various trees, and among others, a large Sycamore, or Pharaoh’s Fig, very old, which bears fruit every year. They say that the Virgin passing that way with her son Jesus, and being pursued by a number of people, the Fig-tree opened to receive her; she entered, and it closed her in, until the people had passed by, when it re-opened, and that it remained open ever after to the year 1656, when the part of the trunk that had separated itself was broken away.”

Near Kennety Church, in the King’s County, Ireland, is an Ash, the trunk of which is nearly 22 feet round, and 17 feet high, before the branches break out, which are of enormous bulk. When a funeral of the lower class passes by, they lay the body down a few minutes, say a prayer, and then throw a stone to increase the heap which has been accumulating round the roots.

The Breton nobles were long accustomed to offer up a prayer beneath the branches of a venerable Yew which grew in the cloister of Vreton, in Brittany. The tree was regarded with much veneration, as it was said to have originally sprung from the staff of St. Martin.

In England, the Glastonbury Thorn was long the object of pious reverence. This tree was supposed to have sprung from the staff of Joseph of Arimathea, to whom the original conversion of this country is attributed in monkish legends. The story runs that when Joseph of Arimathea came to convert the heathen nations he selected Glastonbury as the site for the first Christian Church, and whilst preaching there on Christmas-day, he struck his staff into the ground, which immediately burst into bud and bloom; eventually it grew into a Thorn-bush, which regularly blossomed every Christmas-day, and became known throughout Christendom as the Glastonbury Thorn.

“The winter Thorn, which
Blossoms at Christmas, mindful of our Lord.”

Like the Thorn of Glastonbury, an Oak, in the New Forest, called the Cadenham Oak, produced its buds always on Christmas Day; and was, consequently, regarded by the country people as a tree of peculiar sanctity. Another miraculous tree is referred to in Collinson’s ‘History of Somerset.’ The author, speaking of the Glastonbury Thorn, says that there grew also in the Abbey churchyard, on the north side of St. Joseph’s Chapel, a miraculous Walnut-tree, which never budded forth before the Feast of St. Barnabas (that is, the 11th of June), and on that very day shot forth leaves, and flourished like its usual species. It is strange to say how much this tree was sought after by the credulous; and though not an uncommon Walnut, Queen Anne, King James, and many of the nobility of the realm, even when the times of monkish superstition had ceased, gave large sums of money for small cuttings from the original.

### CHAPTER VI.
Plants of the Fairies and Naiades.

Centuries before Milton wrote that “Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep,” our Saxon ancestors, whilst yet they inhabited the forests of Germany, believed in the existence of a diminutive race of beings—the “missing link” between men and spirits—to whom they attributed extraordinary actions, far exceeding the capabilities of human art. Moreover, we have it on the authority of the father of English poetry that long, long ago, in those wondrous times when giants and dwarfs still deigned to live in the same countries as ordinary human beings,

“In the olde dayes of King Artour,
Of which the Bretons speken gret honour,
All was this land fulfilled of faerie;
The Elf-quene and hire joly compaynie
Danced full oft in many a grene mede.
This was the old opinion as I rede.”

The old Welsh bards were accustomed to sing their belief that King Arthur was not dead, but conveyed away by the fairies into some charmed spot where he should remain awhile, and then return again to reign with undiminished power. These wondrous inhabitants of Elf-land—these Fays, Fairies, Elves, Little Folk, Pixies, Hobgoblins, Kobolds, Dwarfs, Pigmies, Gnomes, and Trolls are all more or less associated with the plant kingdom. They make their habitations in the leafy branches of trees, or dwell in the greater seclusion of their hollow trunks; they dally and gambol among opening buds and nodding blossoms; they hide among blushing Roses and fragrant shrubs; they dance amid the Buttercups, Daisies, and Meadow-Sweet of the grassy meads; and, as Shakspeare says, they “use flowers for their charactery.”

Grimm tells us that in Germany the Elves are fond of inhabiting Oak trees, the holes in the trunks of which are deemed by the people to be utilised by the Fairies as means of entry and exit. A similar belief is entertained by the Hindus, who consider holes in trees as doors by which the inhabiting spirit passes in and out. German elves are also fond of frequenting Elder-trees.

The Esthonians believe that during a thunder-storm, and in order to escape from the lightning, the timorous Elves burrow several feet beneath the roots of the trees they inhabit. As a rule these forest Elves are good-natured: if they are not offended, not only will they abstain from harming men, but they will even do them a good turn, and teach them some of the mysteries of nature, of which they possess the secret.

The Elves were in former days thought to practise works of mercy in the woods, and a certain sympathetic affinity with trees became thus propagated in the popular faith. The country-folk were careful not to offend the trees that were inhabited by Fairies, and they never sought to surprise the Elfin people in their mysterious retreats, for they dreaded the power of these invisible creatures to cause ill-luck or some unfortunate malady to fall on those against whom they had a spite. Even deaths were sometimes laid at their door.

A German legend relates that as a peasant woman one day tried to uproot the stump of an old tree in a Fir forest, she became so feeble that at last she could scarcely manage to walk. Suddenly, while endeavouring to crawl to her home, a mysterious-looking man appeared in the path before the poor woman, and upon hearing what was the matter with her, he at once remarked that she had wounded an Elf. If the Elf got well, so would she; but if the Elf should unfortunately perish, she would also assuredly die. The stump of the old Fir-tree was the abode of an Elf, and in endeavouring to uproot it, the woman had unintentionally injured the little creature. The words of the mysterious personage proved too true. The peasant languished for some time, but drooped and died on the same day as the wounded Elf. To this day, in the vast forests of Germany and Russia, instead of uprooting old Firs, the foresters, remembering the Elfish superstition, always chop them down above the roots.

In the Indian legend of Sâvitri, the youthful Satyavant, while felling a tree, perspires inordinately, is overcome with weakness, sinks exhausted, and dies. He had mortally wounded the Elf of the tree. Since the days of Æsop it has become a saying that Death has a weakness for woodmen.

In our own land, Oaks have always been deemed the favourite abodes of Elves, and wayfarers, upon approaching groves reputed to be haunted by them, used to think it judicious to turn their coats for good luck. Thus Bishop Corbet, in his Iter Boreale, writes:—

“William found
A means for our deliverance: ‘Turn your cloakes,’
Quoth he, ‘for Pucke is busy in these Oakes;
If ever we at Bosworth will be found,
Then turn your cloakes, for this is Fairy ground.’”

It was believed that the Fairy folk made their homes in the recesses of forests or secluded groves, whence they issued after sunset to gambol in the fields; often startling with their sudden appearance the tired herdsman trudging homeward to his cot, or the goodwife returning from her expedition to market. Thus we read of “Fairy Elves whose midnight revels by a forest side or fountain some belated peasant sees.”

“Would you the Fairy regions see,
Hence to the greenwoods run with me;
From mortals safe the livelong night,
There countless feats the Fays delight.”—Leftly.

In the Isle of Man the Fairies or Elves used to be seen hopping from trees and skipping from bough to bough, whilst wending their way to the Fairy midnight haunts.

In such esteem were they held by the country folk of Devon and Cornwall, that to ensure their friendship and good offices, the Fairies, or Pixies, used formerly to have a certain share of the fruit crop set apart for their special consumption.

Hans Christian Andersen tells of a certain Rose Elf who was instrumental in punishing the murderer of a beautiful young maiden to whom he was attached. The Rose, in olden times, was reputed to be under the especial protection of Elves, Fairies, and Dwarfs, whose sovereign, Laurin, carefully guarded the Rose-garden.

“Four portals to the garden lead, and when the gates are closed,
No living wight dare touch a Rose, ’gainst his strict command opposed.
Whoe’er would break the golden gates, or cut the silken thread,
Or who would dare to waste the flowers down beneath his tread,
Soon for his pride would leave to pledge a foot and hand;
Thus Laurin, King of Dwarfs, rules within his land.”

A curious family of the Elfin tribe were the Moss- or Wood-Folk, who dwelt in the forests of Southern Germany. Their stature was small, and their form weird and uncouth, bearing a strange resemblance to certain trees, with which they flourished and decayed. Describing a Moss-woman, the author of ‘The Fairy Family’ says:—

“‘A Moss-woman!’ the hay-makers cry,
And over the fields in terror they fly.
She is loosely clad from neck to foot
In a mantle of Moss from the Maple’s root,
And like Lichen grey on its stem that grows
Is the hair that over her mantle flows.
Her skin, like the Maple-rind, is hard,
Brown and ridgy, and furrowed and scarred;
And each feature flat, like the bark we see,
Where a bough has been lopped from the bole of a tree,
When the newer bark has crept healingly round,
And laps o’er the edge of the open wound;
Her knotty, root-like feet are bare,
And her height is an ell from heel to hair.”

The Moss- or Wood-Folk also lived in some parts of Scandinavia. Thus, we are told that, in the churchyard of Store Hedding, in Zealand, there are the remains of an Oak wood which were trees by day and warriors by night.

The Black Dwarfs were a race of Scandinavian Elves, inhabiting coast-hills and caves; the favourite place of their feasts and carousings, however, was under the spreading branches of the Elder-tree, the strong perfume of its large moon-like clusters of flowers being very grateful to them. As has been before pointed out, an unexplained connection of a mysterious character has always existed between this tree and the denizens of Fairy-land.

The Still-Folk of Central Germany were another tribe of the Fairy Kingdom: they inhabited the interior of hills, in which they had their spacious halls and strong rooms filled with gold, silver, and precious stones—the entrance to which was only obtained by mortals by means of the Luck-flower, or the Key-flower (Schlüsselblume). They held communication with the outer world, like the Trolls of Scandinavia, through certain springs or wells, which possessed great virtues: not only did they give extraordinary growth and fruitfulness to all trees and shrubs that grew near them, whose roots could drink of their waters, or whose leaves be sprinkled with the dews condensed from their vapours, but for certain human diseases they formed a sovereign remedy.

In Monmouthshire, in years gone by, there existed a good Fairy, or Procca, who was wont to appear to Welshmen in the guise of a handful of loose dried grass, rolling and gambolling before the wind.

#### Fairy Revels.

The English Fays and Fairies, the Pixies of Devon—

“Fantastic Elves, that leap
The slender Hare-cup, climb the Cowslip bells,
And seize the wild bee as she lies asleep,”

according to the old pastoral poets, were wont to bestir themselves soon after sunset—a time of indistinctness and gloomy grandeur, when the moonbeams gleam fitfully through the wind-stirred branches of their sylvan retreats, and when sighs and murmurings are indistinctly heard around, which whisper to the listener of unseen beings. But it is at midnight that the whole Fairy kingdom is alive: then it is that the faint music of the blue Harebell is heard ringing out the call to the Elfin meet:

“’Tis the hour of Fairy ban and spell,
The wood-tick has kept the minutes well,
He has counted them all with click and stroke,
Deep on the heart of the forest Oak;
And he has awakened the sentry Elve,
That sleeps with him in the haunted tree,
To bid him ring the hour of twelve,
And call the Fays to their revelry.
“They come from the beds of the Lichen green,
They creep from the Mullein’s velvet screen,
Some on the backs of beetles fly
From the silver tops of moon-touched trees,
Where they swing in their cobweb hammocks high,
And rocked about in the evening breeze;
Some from the hum-bird’s downy nest,
Had driven him out by Elfin power,
And pillowed on plumes of his rainbow crest,
Had slumbered there till the charmed hour;
Some had lain in a scarp of the rock,
By glittering ising-stars inlaid,
And some had opened the ‘Four-o’-Clock,’
And stolen within its purple shade;
And now they throng the moonlight glade,
Above, below,—on every side,
Their little minim forms arrayed,
In the tricksy pomp of Fairy pride.”—Dr. Drake’s ‘Culprit Fay.’

Like the Witches, Fairies dearly love to ride to the trysting-place on an aerial steed. A straw, a blade of Grass, a Fern, a Rush, or a Cabbage-stalk, alike serve the purpose of the little people. Mounted on such simple steeds, each joyous Elf sings—

“Now I go, now I fly,
Malkin, my sweet spirit, and I.
O what a dainty pleasure ’tis
To ride in the air,
When the morn shines fair,
And sing and dance, and toy and kiss!”

Arrived at the spot selected for the Fairy revels—mayhap, “a bank whereon the wild Thyme blows, where Oxlips and the nodding Violet grows”—the gay throng wend their way to a grassy link or neighbouring pasture, and there the merry Elves trip and pace the dewy green sward with their printless feet, causing those dark green circles that are known to mortals as “Fairy Rings.”

The Fays that haunt the moonlight dell,
The Elves that sleep in the Cowslip’s bell,
The tricksy Sprites that come and go,
Swifter than a gleam of light;
Where the murmuring waters flow,
And the zephyrs of the night,
Bending to the flowers that grow,
Basking in the silver sheen,
With their voices soft and low,
Sing about the rings of green
Which the Fairies’ twinkling feet,
In their nightly revels, beat.

Old William Browne depicts a Fairy trysting-place as being in proximity to one of their sylvan haunts, and moreover gives us an insight into the proceedings of the Fays and their queen at one of their meetings. He says:—

“Near to this wood there lay a pleasant meade
Where Fairies often did their measures treade,
Which in the meadows made such circles greene,
As if with garlands it had crowned beene,
Or like the circle where the signes we tracke,
And learned shepheards call’t the zodiacke;
Within one of these rounds was to be seene
A hillock rise, where oft the Fairie queene
At twilight sat, and did command her Elves
To pinch those maids that had not swept their shelves;
And further, if by maiden’s oversight,
Within doors water were not brought at night,
Or if they spread no table, set no bread,
They should have nips from toe unto the head,
And for the maid that had performed each thing,
She in the water-pail bade leave a ring.”

St. John’s Eve was undoubtedly chosen for important communication between the distant Elfin groves and the settlements of men, on account of its mildness, brightness, and unequalled beauty. Has not Shakspeare told us, in his ‘Midsummer’s Night’s Dream,’ of the doings, on this night, of Oberon, Ariel, Puck, Titania, and her Fairy followers?—

“The darling puppets of romance’s view;
Fairies, and Sprites, and Goblin Elves we call them,
Famous for patronage of lovers true;
No harm they act, neither shall harm befall them,
So do not thou with crabbed frowns appal them.”

Yet timorous and ill-informed folk, mistrusting the kindly disposition of Elves and Fairies, took precautions for excluding Elfin visitors from their dwellings by hanging over their doors boughs of St. John’s Wort, gathered at midnight on St. John’s Eve. A more kindly feeling, however, seems to have prevailed at Christmas time, when boughs of evergreen were everywhere hung in houses in order that the poor frost-bitten Elves of the trees might hide themselves therein, and thus pass the bleak winter in hospitable shelter.

#### Fairy Plants.

In Devonshire the flowers of Stitchwort are known as Pixies.

Of plants which are specially affected by the Fairies, first mention should be made of the Elf Grass (Vesleria cærulea), known in Germany as Elfenkraut or Elfgras. This is the Grass forming the Fairy Rings, round which, with aerial footsteps, have danced

“Ye demi-puppets, that
By moonlight do the green sour ringlets make,
Whereof the ewe not bites.”—Shakspeare’s Tempest.

The Cowslip, or Fairy Cup, Shakspeare tells us forms the couch of Ariel—the “dainty Ariel” who has so sweetly sung of his Fairy life—

“Where the bee sucks, there lurk I;
In a Cowslip’s bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry;
On a bat’s back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily, shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.”

The fine small crimson drops in the Cowslip’s chalice are said to possess the rare virtue of preserving, and even of restoring, youthful bloom and beauty; for these ruddy spots are fairy favours, and therefore have enchanted value. Shakspeare says of this flower of the Fays:—

“And I serve the Fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green:
The Cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours:
In those freckles live their savours.”

Another of the flowers made potent use of by the Fairies of Shakspeare is the Pansy—that “little Western flower” which Oberon bade Puck procure:—

“Fetch me that flower,—the herb I showed thee once:
The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid,
Will make a man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.”

The Anemone, or Wind-flower, is a recognised Fairy blossom. The crimson marks on its petals have been painted there by fairy hands; and, in wet weather, it affords shelter to benighted Elves, who are glad to seek shelter beneath its down-turned petals. Tulips are greatly esteemed by the Fairy folk, who utilise them as cradles in which to rock the infant Elves to sleep.

The Fairy Flax (Linum catharticum) is, from its extreme delicacy, selected by the Fays as the substance to be woven for their raiment. The Pyrus Japonica is the Fairies’ Fire. Fairy-Butter (Tremella arborea and albida) is a yellowish gelatinous substance, found upon rotten wood or fallen timber, and which is popularly supposed to be made in the night, and scattered about by the Fairies. The Pezita, an exquisite scarlet Fungus cup, which grows on pieces of broken stick, and is to be found in dry ditches and hedge-sides, is the Fairies’ Bath.

To yellow flowers growing in hedgerows, the Fairies have a special dislike, and will never frequent a place where they abound; but it is notorious that they are passionately fond of most flowers. It is part of their mission to give to each maturing blossom its proper hue, to guide creepers and climbing plants, and to teach young plants to move with befitting grace.

But the Foxglove is the especial delight of the Fairy tribe: it is the Fairy plant par excellence. When it bends its tall stalks the Foxglove is making its obeisance to its tiny masters, or preparing to receive some little Elf who wishes to hide himself in the safe retreat afforded by its accommodating bells. In Ireland this flower is called Lusmore, or the Great Herb. It is there the Fairy Cap, whilst in Wales it becomes the Goblin’s Gloves.

As the Foxglove is the special flower of the Fairies, so is a four-leaved Clover their peculiar herb. It is believed only to grow in places frequented by the Elfin tribe, and to be gifted by them with magic power.

“I’ll seek a four-leaved Clover
In all the Fairy dells,
And if I find the charmed leaf,
Oh, how I’ll weave my spells!”—S. Lover.

The maiden whose search has been successful for this diminutive plant becomes at once joyous and light-hearted, for she knows that she will assuredly see her true love ere the day is over. The four-leaved Clover is the only plant that will enable its wearer to see the Fairies—it is a magic talisman whereby to gain admittance to the Fairy kingdom,[8] and unless armed with this potent herb, the only other means available to mortals who wish to make the acquaintance of the Fairies is to procure a supply of a certain precious unguent prepared according to the receipt of a celebrated alchymist, which, applied to the visual orbs, is said to enable anyone with a clear conscience to behold without difficulty or danger the most potent Fairy or Spirit he may anywhere encounter. The following is the form of the preparation:—

“R. A pint of Sallet-oyle, and put it into a vial-glasse; but first wash it with Rose-water and Marygolde water; the flowers to be gathered towards the east. Wash it till the oyle come white; then put it into the glasse, ut supra: and then put thereto the budds of Holyhocke, the flowers of Marygolde, the flowers or toppers of Wild Thyme, the budds of young Hazle: and the Thyme must be gathered neare the side of a hill where Fayries used to be: and take the grasse of a Fayrie throne. Then all these put into the oyle into the glasse: and sette it to dissolve three dayes in the sunne, and then keep it for thy use; ut supra.”—[Ashmolean MSS.].

#### Plants of the Water Nymphs and Fays.

Certain of the Fairy community frequented the vicinity of pools, and the banks of streams and rivers. Ben Jonson tells of “Span-long Elves that dance about a pool;” and Stagnelius asks—

“Say, know’st the Elfin people gay?
They dwell on the river’s strand;
They spin from the moonbeams their festive garb,
With their small and lily hand.”

Of this family are the Russalkis, river nymphs of Southern Russia, who inhabit the alluvial islands studding the winding river, or dwell in detached coppices fringing the banks, or construct for themselves homes woven of flowering Reeds and green Willow-boughs.

The Swedes delight to tell of the Strömkarl, or boy of the stream, a mystic being who haunts brooks and rivulets, and sits on the silvery waves at moonlight, playing his harp to the Elves and Fays who dance on the flowery margin, in obedience to his summons—

“Come queen of the revels—come, form into bands
The Elves and the Fairies that follow your train;
Tossing your tresses, and wreathing your hands,
Let your dainty feet dance to my wave-wafted strain.”

The Græco-Latin Naiades, or Water-nymphs, were also of this family: they generally inhabited the country, and resorted to the woods or meadows near the stream over which they presided. It was in some such locality on the Asiatic coast that the ill-fated Hylas was carried off by Isis and the River-nymphs, whilst obtaining water from a fountain.

“The chiefs composed their wearied limbs to rest,
But Hylas sought the springs, by thirst opprest;
At last a fount he found with flow’rets graced:
On the green bank above his urn he placed.
’Twas at a time when old Ascanius made
An entertainment in his watery bed,
For all the Nymphs and all the Naiades
Inhabitants of neighb’ring plains and seas.”

These inferior deities were held in great veneration, and received from their votaries offerings of fruit and flowers; animal sacrifices were also made to them, with libations of wine, honey, oil, and milk; and they were crowned with Sedges and flowers. A remnant of these customs was to be seen in the practice which formerly prevailed in this country of sprinkling rivers with flowers on Holy Thursday. Milton, in his ‘Comus,’ tells us that, in honour of Sabrina, the Nymph of the Severn—

“The shepherds at their festivals
Carol her good deeds loud in rustic lays,
And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream,
Of Pansies, Pinks, and gaudy Daffodils.”

A belief in the existence of good spirits who watched and guarded wells, springs and streams, was common to the whole Aryan race. On the 13th of October the Romans celebrated at the Porta Fontinalis a festival in honour of the Nymphs who presided over fountains and wells: this was termed the Fontinalia, and during the ceremonies wells and fountains were ornamented with garlands. To this day the old heathen custom of dressing and adorning wells is extant, although saints and martyrs have long since taken the place of the Naiades and Water-nymphs as patrons. In England, well-dressing at Ascension-tide is still practised, and some particulars of the ancient custom will be found in the chapter on Floral Ceremonies.

“The fountain marge is fairly spread
With every incense flower that blows,
With flowry Sedge and Moss that grows,
For fervid limbs a dewy bed.”—Fane.

Pilgrimages are made to many holy wells and springs in the United Kingdom, for the purpose of curing certain diseases by the virtues contained in their waters, or to dress these health-restoring fountains with garlands and posies of flowers. It is not surprising to find Ben Jonson saying that round such “virtuous” wells the Fairies are fond of assembling, and dancing their rounds, lighted by the pale moonshine—

“By wells and rills, in meadows greene,
We nightly dance our hey-day guise;
And to our Fairye king and queene
We chant our moonlight minstrelsies.”—Percy Reliques.

In Cornwall pilgrimages are made in May to certain wells situated close to old blasted Oaks, where the frequenters suspend rags to the branches as a preservative against sorcery and a propitiation to the Fairies, who are thought to be fond of repairing at night to the vicinity of the wells. From St. Mungo’s Well at Huntly, in Scotland, the people carry away bottles of water, as a talisman against the enmity of the Fairies, who are supposed to hold their revels at the Elfin Croft close by, and are prone to resent the intrusion of mortals.

### CHAPTER VII.
Sylvans, Wood Nymphs, and Tree Spirits.

Closely allied to the Fairy family, the Well Fays, and the Naiades, are the Sylvans of the Græco-Roman mythology, which everywhere depicts groves and forests as the dwelling-places and resorts of merry bands of Dryads, Nymphs, Fauns, Satyrs, and other light-hearted frequenters of the woods. Mindful of this, Horace, when extolling the joys and peacefulness of sylvan retirement, sings:—

“Me the cool woods above the rest advance,
Where the rough Satyrs with the light Nymphs dance.”

The Dryads were young and beautiful nymphs who were regarded as semi-goddesses. Deriving their name from the Greek word drus, a tree, they were conceived to dwell in trees, groves, and forests, and, according to tradition, were wont to inflict injuries upon people who dared to injure the trees they inhabited and specially protected. Notwithstanding this, however, they frequently quitted their leafy habitations, to wander at will and mingle with the wood nymphs in their rural sports and dances. They are represented veiled and crowned with flowers. Such a sylvan deity Rinaldo saw in the Enchanted Forest, when

“An aged Oak beside him cleft and rent,
And from his fertile hollow womb forth went
(Clad in rare weeds and strange habiliment)
A full-grown Nymph.”

The Hamadryads were only females to the waist, their lower parts merging into the trunks and roots of trees. Their life and power terminated with the existence of the tree over which they presided. These sylvan deities had long flowing hair, and bore in their hands axes wherewith to protect the tree with which they were associated and on the existence of which their own life depended. The trees of the Hamadryads usually grew in some secluded spot, remote from human habitations and unknown to men, where

“Much sweet grass grew higher than grew the Reed,
And good for slumber, and every holier herb,
Narcissus and the low-lying Melilote,
And all of goodliest blade and bloom that springs
Where, hid by heavier Hyacinth, Violet buds
Blossom and burn, and fire of yellower flowers,
And light of crescent Lilies and such leaves
As fear the Faun’s, and know the Dryad’s foot.”—Theocritus.

The rustic deities, called by the Greeks Satyrs, and by the Romans, Fauns, had the legs, feet, and ears of goats, and the rest of the body human. These Fauns, according to the traditions of the Romans, presided over vegetation, and to them the country folk gave anything they had a mind to ask—bunches of Grapes, ears of Wheat, and all sorts of fruit. The food of the Satyrs was believed, by the early Romans, to be the root of the Orchis or Satyrion; its aphrodisiacal qualities exciting them to those excesses to which they are stated to have been so strongly addicted.

A Roumanian legend[9] tells of a beauteous sylvan nymph called the Daughter of the Laurel, who is evidently akin to the Dryads and wood nymphs; and Mr. Ralston, in an article on ‘Forest and Field Myths,’[10] gives the following variation of the story:—“There was once a childless wife who used to lament, saying, ‘If only I had a child, were it but a Laurel berry!’ And heaven sent her a golden Laurel berry; but its value was not recognised, and it was thrown away. From it sprang a Laurel-tree, which gleamed with golden twigs. At it a prince, while following the chase, wondered greatly; and determining to return to it, he ordered his cook to prepare a dinner for him beneath its shade. He was obeyed. But during the temporary absence of the cook, the tree opened, and forth came a fair maiden who strewed a handful of salt over the viands, and returned into the tree, which immediately closed upon her. The prince returned and scolded the cook for over-salting the dinner. The cook declared his innocence; but in vain. The next day just the same occurred. So on the third day the prince kept watch. The tree opened, and the maiden came forth. But before she could return into the tree, the prince caught hold of her and carried her off. After a time she escaped from him, ran back to the tree, and called upon it to open. But it remained shut. So she had to return to the prince, and after a while he deserted her. It was not till after long wandering that she found him again, and became his loyal consort.” Mr. Ralston says that in Hahn’s opinion the above story is founded on the Hellenic belief in Dryads; but he himself thinks it belongs to an earlier mythological family than the Hellenic, though the Dryad and the Laurel-maiden are undoubtedly kinswomen. “Long before the Dryads and Oreads had received from the sculpturesque Greek mind their perfection of human form and face, trees were credited with woman-like inhabitants, capable of doing good and ill, and with power of their own, apart from those possessed by their supernatural tenants, of banning and blessing. Therefore was it that they were worshipped, and that recourse was had to them for the strengthening of certain rites. Similar ideas and practices still prevail in Asia: survivals of them may yet be found in Europe.”

In Moldavia there lingers the cherished tradition of Mariora Floriora, the Zina (nymph) of the mountains, the Sister of the Flowers, at whose approach the birds awoke and sung merrily, desirous of anticipating her every wish, and the wild flowers exhaled their choicest perfume, and, bowing gently in the wind, proffered every virtue contained in their blossoms. Yielding one day to the fascinations of a mortal, Mariora Floriora gave herself to him, and forgot her flowers, so that the leaves fell yellow and withered, and the flowers drooped their heads and faded. Then they complained to the Sun that the flower nymph no longer tended them, but rambled over the mountains and meadows absorbed with her mortal lover. So a Zméu (evil spirit) was sent, who seized her in his arms, and carried her away over the mountain. Now she is never seen; but when the moon is shining on a serene night, her plaintive murmurs are sometimes heard in the caverns of the mountain.

#### Sacred Groves and their Denizens.

The Roman goddess Pomona, we are told by Ovid, came of the family of Dryads, or sylvan deities; and although “the Nymph frequented not the fluttering stream, nor meads, the subject of a virgin’s dream,” yet—

“In garden culture none could her excel,
Or form the pliant souls of plants so well,
Or to the fruit more gen’rous flavours lend,
Or teach the trees with nobler loads to bend.”

As a deity, Pomona presided over gardens and all sorts of fruit-trees, and was honoured with a temple in Rome, and a regular priest, called Flamen Pomonalis, who offered sacrifices to her divinity for the preservation of fruit. In this respect Pomona differed from the other Sylvans, who were only regarded as semi-gods and goddesses. The worship of these sylvan deities, however, by the Greeks and Romans caused them to regard with reverence and respect their nemorous habitations. Hence we find that, like the Egyptians, they were fond of surrounding their temples and fanes with groves and woods, which in time came to be regarded as sacred as the temples themselves. Pliny, speaking of groves, says: “These were of old the temples of the gods; and after that simple but ancient custom, men at this day consecrate the fairest and goodliest trees to some deity or other; nor do we more adore our glittering shrines of gold and ivory than the groves in which, with profound and awful silence, we worship them.” Ancient writers often refer to “vocal forests,”—in their sombre and gloomy recesses, the frighted wayfarer imagined, as the wind soughed and rustled through the dense foliage, that the tree spirits were humming some sportive lay, or—perchance more frequently—chanting weirdly some solemn dirge. The grove which surrounded Jupiter’s Temple at Dodona was supposed to be endowed with the gift of prophecy, and oracles were frequently there delivered by the sacred Oaks.

“Due honours once Dodona’s forest had,
When oracles were through the Oaks conveyed.
When woods instructed prophets to foretel,
And the decrees of fate in trees did dwell.”

In course of time each tree of these sacred groves was held to be tenanted, or presided over, either by a god or goddess, or by one of the sylvan semi-deities. Impious was deemed he who dared to profane the sanctity of one of these nemorous retreats, either by damaging or by felling the consecrated trees. Rapin, in his Latin poem on Gardens, says:

“But let no impious axe profane the woods,
Or violate the sacred shades; the Gods
Themselves inhabit there. Some have beheld
Where drops of blood from wounded Oaks distill’d;
Have seen the trembling boughs with horror shake!
So great a conscience did the ancients make
To cut down Oaks, that it was held a crime
In that obscure and superstitious time.
When Driopeius Heaven did provoke,
By daring to destroy th’ Æmonian Oak,
And with it its included Dryad too,
Avenging Ceres then her faith did show
To the wrong’d nymph.”

When threatened with the woodman’s axe, the tutelary genius of the doomed tree would intercede for its life, the very leaves would sigh and groan, the stalwart trunk tremble with horror. Ovid relates how Erisichthon, a Thessalian, who derided Ceres, and cut down the trees in her sacred groves, was, for his impiety, afflicted with perpetual hunger. Of one huge old Oak the poet says—

“In the cool dusk its unpierc’d verdure spread
The Dryads oft their hallow’d dances led.”

But the vindictive Erisichthon bade his hesitating servants fell the venerable tree, and, dissatisfied with their speed, seized an axe, and approached it, declaring that nothing should save the Oak:—

“He spoke, and as he pois’d a slanting stroke,
Sighs heav’d and tremblings shook the frighted Oak;
Its leaves look’d sickly, pale its Acorns grew,
And its long branches sweat a chilly dew,
But when his impious hand a wound bestow’d,
Blood from the mangled bark in currents flow’d.
* * * * * * * *
The wonder all amaz’d: yet one more bold,
The fact dissuading, strove his axe to hold;
But the Thessalian, obstinately bent,
Too proud to change, too harden’d to repent,
On his kind monitor his eyes, which burn’d
With rage, and with his eyes his weapon, turn’d;
Take the reward (says he) of pious dread;—
Then with a blow lopp’d off his parted head.
No longer check’d, the wretch his crime pursued,
Doubled his strokes, and sacrilege renew’d;
When from the groaning trunk a voice was heard,—
‘A Dryad I,’ by Ceres’ love preferred,
Within the circle of this clasping rind
Coeval grew, and now in ruin join’d;
But instant vengeance shall thy sin pursue,
And death is cheered with this prophetic view.”
Garth’s Ovid.

#### Tree Spirits.

Ovid, in his ‘Metamorphoses,’ has told us how, after Daphne had been changed into a Laurel, the nymph-tree still panted and heaved her heart; how, when Phaethon’s grief-stricken sisters were transformed into Poplars, they continued to shed tears, which were changed into amber; how Myrrha, metamorphosed into a tree, still wept, in her bitter grief, the precious drops which retain her name; how Dryope, similarly transformed, imparted her life to the branches, which glowed with a human heat; and how the tree into which the nymph Lotis had been changed, shook with sudden horror when its blossoms were plucked and blood welled from the broken stalks. In these poetic conceptions it is easy to see the embodiment of a belief very rife among the Greeks and Romans that trees and shrubs were tenanted in some mysterious manner by spirits. Thus Virgil tells us that when Æneas had travelled far in search of the abodes of the blest—

“He came to groves, of happy souls the rest;
To evergreens, the dwellings of the blest.”

Nor was this notion confined simply to the Greeks and Romans, for among the ancients generally there existed a wide-spread belief that trees were either the haunts of disembodied spirits, or contained within their material growth the actual spirits themselves. Evelyn tells us that “the Ethnics do still repute all great trees to be divine, and the habitations of souls departed: these the Persians call Pir and Imàm.” The Persians, however, entertaining a profound regard for trees of unusual magnitude, were of opinion that only the spirits of the pure and holy inhabited them.

In this respect they differed from the Indians, who believed that both good and evil spirits dwelt in trees. Thus we read in the story of a Brahmadaitya (a Bengal folk-tale), of a certain Banyan-tree haunted by a number of ghosts who wrung the necks of all who were rash enough to approach the tree during the night. And, in the same tale, we are told of a Vakula-tree (Mimusops Elengi) which was the haunt of a Brahmadaitya (the ghost of a Brahman who dies unmarried), who was a kindly and well-disposed spirit. In another folk-tale we are introduced to the wife of a Brahman who was attacked by a Sankchinni, or female ghost, inhabiting a tree near the Brahman’s house, and thrust by the vindictive ghost into a hole in the trunk. The Rev. Lal Behari Day explains that Sankchinnis or Sankhachurnis are female ghosts of white complexion, who usually stand in the dead of night at the foot of trees. Sometimes these tree-spirits appear to leave their usual sylvan abode and enter into human beings, in which case an exorcist is employed, who detects the presence of the spirit by lighting a piece of Turmeric root, which is an infallible test, as no ghost can put up with the smell of burnt Turmeric.

The Shánárs, aborigines of India, believe that disembodied spirits haunt the earth, dwelling in trees, and taking special delight in forests and solitary places. Against the malignant influence of these wandering spirits, protection is sought in charms of various kinds; the leaves of certain trees being esteemed especially efficacious. Among the Hindus, if an infant refuse its food, and appear to decline in health, the inference is drawn that an evil spirit has taken possession of it. As this demon is supposed to dwell in some particular tree, the mothers of the northern districts of Bengal frequently destroy the unfortunate infant’s life by depositing it in a basket, and hanging the same on the demon’s tree, where it perishes miserably.[11]

In Burmah the worship of Nats, or spirits of nature, is very general. Indeed among the Karens, and numerous other tribes, this spirit-worship is their only form of belief. The shrines of these Nats are often, in the form of cages, suspended in Peepul or other trees—by preference the Le’pan tree, from the wood of which coffins are made. When a Burman starts on a journey, he hangs a bunch of Plantains, or a spray of the sacred Eugenia, on the pole of his buffalo cart, to conciliate any spirit he may intrude upon. The lonely hunter in the forest deposits some Rice, and ties together a few leaves, whenever he comes across some imposing-looking tree, lest there should be a Nat dwelling there. Should there be none, the tied-back leaves will, at any rate, stand in evidence to the Nat or demon who presides over the forest. Some of the Nats or spirits are known far and wide by special or generic names. There is the Hmin Nat who lives in woods, and shakes those he meets so that they go mad. There is the Akakasoh, who lives in the tops of trees; Shekkasoh, who lives in the trunk; and Boomasoh, who dwells contentedly in the roots. The presence of spirits or demons in trees the Burman believes may always be ascertained by the quivering and trembling of the leaves when all around is still.

Schweinfurth, the African explorer, tells us that, at the present day, among the Bongos and the Niam-Niams, woods and forests are regarded with awe as weird and mysterious places, the abodes of supernatural beings. The malignant spirits who are believed to inhabit the dark and gloomy forests, and who inspire the Bongos with extraordinary terror, have, like the Devil, wizards, and witches, a distinctive name: they are called bitâbohs; whilst the sylvan spirits inhabiting groves and woods are known as rangas. Under this last designation are comprised owls of different species, bats, and the ndorr, a small ape, with large red eyes and erect ears, which shuns the light of day, and hides itself in the trunks of trees, from whence it comes forth at night. As a protection against the influence of these malignant spirits of the woods, the Bongos have recourse to certain magical roots which are sold to them by their medicine-men. According to those worthies no one can enter into communication with the wood spirits except by means of certain roots, which enable the possessor to exorcise evil spirits, or give him the power of casting spells. All old people, but especially women, are suspected of having relations, more or less intimate, with the sylvan spirits, and of consulting the malign demons of the woods when they wish to injure any of their neighbours. This belief in evil spirits, which is general among the Bongos and other tribes of Africa, exists also among the Niam-Niams. For the latter, the forest is the abode of invisible beings who are constantly conspiring to injure man; and in the rustling of the foliage they imagine they hear the mysterious dialogues of the ghostly inhabitants of the woods.

The ancient German race, in whom there existed a deep reverence for trees, peopled their groves and forests with a whole troup of Waldgeister, both beneficent and malevolent. A striking example is to be seen in the case of the Elder, in which dwells the Hylde-moer (Elder-mother), or Hylde-vinde (Elder-queen), who avenges all injuries done to the Elder-tree. On this account Elder branches may not be cut until permission has been asked of the Hylde-moer. In Lower Saxony the woodman will, on his bended knee, ask permission of the Elder-tree before cutting it, in these words: “Lady Elder, give me some of thy wood; then will I give thee, also, some of mine when it grows in the forest.” This formula is repeated three times.

Nearly allied to the tree-spirits were the Corn-spirits,[12] which haunted and protected the green or yellow fields. Mr. Ralston tells us that by the popular fancy they were often symbolised under the form of wolves, or of “buckmen,” goat-legged creatures, similar to the classic Satyrs. “When the wind blows the long Grass or waving Corn, German peasants still say, ‘The Grass-wolf’ or ‘The Corn-wolf,’ is abroad! In some places the last sheaf of Rye is left as a shelter to the Roggenwolf, or Rye-wolf, during the winter’s cold; and in many a summer or autumn festive rite, that being is represented by a rustic, who assumes a wolf-like appearance. The Corn-spirit, however, was often symbolised under a human form.”

The belief in the existence of a spirit whose life is bound up in that of the tree it inhabits remains to the present day. There is a wide-spread German belief that if a sick man is passed through a cleft made in a tree, which is immediately afterwards bound up, the man and the tree become mysteriously connected—if the tree flourishes so will the man; but if it withers he will die. Should, however, the tree survive the man, the soul of the latter will inhabit the tree; and (according to Pagan tradition) if the tree be felled and used for ship-building, the dead man’s ghost becomes the haunting genius of the ship. This strange notion may have had its origin in the classic story of the Argonauts and their famous ship. A beam on the prow of the Argo had been cut by Minerva out of the forest of Dodona, where the trees were thought to be inhabited by oracular spirits: hence the beam retained the power of giving oracles to the voyagers, and warned them that they would never reach their country till Jason had been purified of the murder of Absyrtus. There is a story that tells how, when a musician cut a piece of wood from a tree into which a girl had been metamorphosed by her angry mother, he was startled to see blood oozing from the wound. And when he had shaped it into a bow, and played with it upon his violin before her mother, such a heart-rending wail made itself heard, that the mother was struck with remorse, and bitterly repented of her hasty deed. Mr. Ralston quotes a Czekh story of a Nymph who appeared day by day among men, but always went back to her willow by night. She married a mortal, bare him children, and lived happily with him, till at length he cut down her Willow-tree: that moment his wife died. Out of this Willow was made a cradle, which had the power of instantly lulling to sleep the babe she had left behind her; and when the babe became a child, it was able to hold converse with its dead mother by means of a pipe, cut from the twigs growing on the stump, which once had been that mother’s abiding-place.

### CHAPTER VIII.
Plants of the Devil.

We have seen, in a former chapter, how intimate has been the association between flowers and the Fairies, Pixies, or Elves, and, therefore, it is not surprising to find that the King of Fairies, Puck, has a plant specially dedicated to him. This is the Lycoperdon, or Puckfist. Dr. Prior points out that in some old works Puck, who has the credit of being partial to coarse practical jokes, is alluded to as no other than the Devil. His very name would seem to be derived from Pogge, a toad, which in popular opinion was the impersonation of the Devil: hence Toadstools, Pixie-stools, or Paddock-stools, were thought to be but Devil’s droppings—the work of those Elves

“Whose pastime
Is to make moonlight Mushrooms.”

In Sussex, the Puff-ball is called Puck’s Stool, and the needle of the Scandix Pecten is called Pook-needle.

Loki, the Scandinavian malignant spirit, possesses many of the characteristics of Puck, and is in point of fact the Devil of the old Norse mythology. In Jutland, Polytrichum commune is called Loki’s Oats, and the Yellow Rattle is known there as Loki’s Purse. The Trolls, a race of gigantic demons, or evil spirits, spoken of in Northern mythology, have given their name to the Globe-flower (Trollius), which is also known as the Troll-flower, probably on account of its acrid and poisonous qualities having suggested its use by these followers of the Devil.

Speaking generally, trees, plants, and herbs of evil omen may be placed in the category of plants of the Devil, and amongst them must be included such as have the reputation of being accursed, enchanted, unlucky, and sorrowful. The plants dedicated to Hecate, the Grecian goddess of Hell, who presided over magic and enchantments, as well as those made use of by her daughters Medea and Circe, in their sorceries, were all satanic. Circe was specially distinguished for her knowledge of venomous herbs, and in later times the plants used by her were universally employed by witches and sorcerers in their incantations. The spells of wizards, magicians, witches, and others who were acquainted with the secrets appertaining to the black art, were always made in the name of the Devil: hence all herbs and plants employed by them became veritable plants of the Devil. These plants are particularised in the chapter on Plants of the Witches.

The belief that certain trees are haunted by the Devil, or by malignant demons who act as his satellites, is of world-wide extent, and, in connection with tree spirits, the subject has been incidentally touched upon in the previous chapter. A Russian proverb says that “From all old trees proceeds either an owl or a Devil;” and in many countries where a tree becomes old and past bearing, its sterility is attributed to a demon. The Albanians believe that trees are haunted by Devils which they call aërico. Certain trees are especially affected by these aerial demons: these are the Fig, the Walnut, the wild Plum, the Mulberry, the Sycamore, the Pimpernel, the Willow, and in general all fruit trees (but especially the Cherry) when they are old and cease to bear. As regards sterile fruit trees, the belief that they are haunted by Devils is common to many countries. In some parts of England, Blackberries are never picked after Michaelmas-day, when the Devil is supposed to stamp them with his hoof. Mrs. Latham has told us that the watchfulness of the Devil makes it dangerous to go out nutting on a Sunday, and worthy mothers may be heard warning their children against it by assuring them that if they do so, “the Devil will hold down the branches for them.” Mr. Sawyer has pointed out that the Sussex saying, “as black as the Devil’s nutting bag,” is associated with this belief. St. Ouen, writing in the 17th century, cautioned shepherds and others never to let their flocks pass a hollow tree, because by some means or other the Devil was sure to have taken possession of it.

Moore, in ‘The Light of the Haram,’ speaks of the Siltim, a demon which is thought to haunt the forests of Persia, and to lurk among the trees in human form. The Indian demons bhûtûs and piçacâs are represented as dwelling in trees.

In the vicinity of Mount Etna the country people have a very strong aversion to sleep beneath trees on St. John’s Eve, lest they should become possessed of an evil spirit; for according to popular tradition, on that night—the shortest of the year—the demons inhabiting trees and plants quit their leafy habitations, and seek refuge in the first object they come across.

In Germany, numerous demons are recognised as dwelling in trees; and, according to Prof. Mannhardt, whole troops of emissaries of the Devil are thought to haunt the fields, and lurk among the crops of Wheat and vegetables. Among the most noticeable of this satanic legion are the Aprilochse, a demon infesting the fields in April; Auesau, or Sow of the Wheatsheaf, a spirit which lies concealed among the Corn; Baumesel, a goblin of the trees; Erntebock, a demon which steals part of the Corn during harvest; Farre, or the Little Bull, one of a number of spirits infesting the Corn-fields; Gerstenwolf, or Barley-wolf, a demon which devours the Barley; Graswolf, a spirit haunting pastures; Habergeiss, or Haferbock, Goat of the Oats; Halmbock, a goblin whose hiding-place is among straw or the stems of plants; Heukatze and Heupudel, Hay Cat and Pup, demons infesting Hay; Kartoffelwolf, or Potato-goblin; Katzenmann, or Man-Cat, a monster dwelling amidst Wheat; Kleesau, or Sow of the Clover; Krautesel, or Ass of the Grass, a spirit especially inimical to Lettuces; Kornwolf, Kornsau, Kornstier, Kornkuh, Kornmutter, Kornkind, and Kornmaid, all demons, spirits, and monsters infesting Corn.

In some parts of Russia the Devil is invoked through the medium of a herb. On the occasion of a marriage, the peasants put into a bottle of brandy a certain plant called the Herb of the Devil; the bottle is then ornamented with ribbons and coloured tapers, and armed with this present the father of the intended bride pays a visit to the father of the bridegroom, who offers to ransom this bottled Devil by the payment of five kopecks. “No,” says the girl’s father, “Our princess wishes more than that.” So after further bargaining, a price of fifty kopecks is finally agreed upon. In certain parts of Russia the Tobacco-plant is deemed a diabolic plant. In India the Witches’ Herb (Sinapis racemosa) is called Asurî (the she-devil).

A few plants named after dragons, serpents, or snakes, and many of those which are of a poisonous or noxious nature, must be classed with the plants of the Devil; such as, for example, the Upas, the Manchineel, the Magnolia, the Oleander, that deadly Persian flower, the Kerzereh, the fœtid Stapelia, the Phallus impudicus, the Thief’s Plant of the Franche-Comté Mountains, which opens all doors; that satanic plant, the sap of which gives to Witches the power of riding in the air on a broomstick; and the accursed plant which misleads the traveller, dragging him from one path to another, but always leading him farther and farther away from his goal, until at last he sinks exhausted with fatigue.

Certain plants and trees have become ill-omened from having received the maledictions of some divine personage. Several were cursed by the Virgin Mary during her flight into Egypt. The tree which yielded the timber of the Cross became for all time “the accursed tree”; the tree on which Judas hung himself became also a satanic tree. Under this ban have been included the Fig, the Tamarisk, the Aspen, the Dog Rose, the Elder, and the Cercis or Judas Tree.

Many plants, both in England and on the Continent, have been specially named after the Devil. Thus we find that, on account of the fœtid odour of the gum or juice obtain from its root, Ferula Assafœtida is known in Germany, Sweden, and Italy as Devil’s Dung (Stercus Diaboli), although it is employed in Persia and Arabia as a medicine, The Poplar-leaved Fig is the Devil’s tree; the berry of the Deadly Nightshade, the Devil’s berry: the plant itself is called Death’s Herb, and in olden times its fruit bore the name of Dwale-berry—the word dvale, which is Danish, meaning a deadly trance. An old German name for the Briony was Devil’s Cherry. The Germans, also, called the Petty Spurge (Euphorbia Peplus) Teufelsmilch, Devil’s Milk; a species of ground Moss, Teufelsklaeun, Devil’s Claws. The Clematis is the Devil’s Thread; Indigo, Devil’s Dye; and the Mandrake, from the lurid glare its leaves emit during the night-time, the Devil’s Candle. In an old work we find the description of a small herb called Clavis Diaboli, which is so poisonous that if cattle eat it they immediately begin to swell, and eventually die, unless by good luck they should happen to catch sight of another plant of the same species, when the poison is dispelled and the animals will recover. We are likewise assured that the seed is so poisonous as to render it unsafe for anyone to walk over a plant of this genus unless his feet have previously been wrapped in the leaves.

Scabiosa succisa is generally known as the Devil’s-Bit Scabious, a name it obtained from a notion which was formerly very prevalent that the short blackish root of the plant had originally been bitten short by the Devil out of spite to mankind, because he knew that otherwise it would be good for many profitable uses. This belief was also very general on the Continent, as the plant bears a corresponding name in France, Germany, and Holland. Dr. Prior quotes a legend recorded by Threlkeld, that “the root was once longer, until the Devil bit away the rest, for spite; for he needed it not to make him sweat who is always tormented with fear of the day of judgment.” According to the Ortus Sanitatis, on the authority of Oribasius, the plant was called Morsus Diaboli, “because with this root the Devil practised such power, that the mother of God, out of compassion, took from the Devil the means to do so with it any more; and in the great vexation that he had that the power was gone from him, he bit it off, so that it grows no more to this day.” Gerarde says: “The great part of the root seemeth to be bitten away: old fantasticke charmers report that the Devil did bite it for envie, because it is an herbe that hath so many good vertues, and is so beneficial to mankinde.” After recounting minor virtues, the old herbalist remarks that Devil’s Bit is potential against the stingings of venomous beasts, poisons, and pestilent diseases, and will consume and waste away plague sores, if pounded and laid upon them.

The Nigella Damascena is called Devil-in-the-Bush, from its round capsules peering from a bush of finely-divided involucre. The long awns of Scandix Pecten are termed the Devil’s Darning Needles, the beans of its seed vessels being called Venus’ comb. The Dodder (Cuscuta) has gained the opprobrious epithet of Devil’s Guts, from the resemblance of its stem to cat-gut, and its mischievous tendencies. The acrid milk or sap extracted from the Euphorbia has, from its poisonous qualities, obtained the name of Devil’s Milk. The poisonous Puff-balls (Lycoperdon) are called Devil’s Snuff-boxes, on account of the dust or particles they contain, which have long borne an ill name. Gerarde says that “it is very dangerous for the eies, for it hath been often seene that divers have beene pore-blinde ever after when some small quantitie thereof hath beene blowne into their eies.” The Fungus Exidia glandulosa (Witches’ Butter) is known in Sweden as the Devil’s Butter.

Although the Devil extends his authority over so many plants, it is satisfactory to know that the St. John’s Wort is a dispeller of demons (Fuga dæmonum), and that there is in Russia a plant called the Devil-chaser. Prof. De Gubernatis tells us that he has received from the Princess Galitzin Prazorova the following particulars of this plant, which is known as Certagon. It grows in meads and woods, is somewhat thorny, and bears a deep-blue flower. It protects infants from fright, and drives away the Devil. Sometimes the plant is boiled in water, and the children are bathed in it. At other times the plant is merely placed in the cradle. If mourners are prostrated with grief and the recollection of the departed one (which is simply a visitation of the Devil) it is only necessary to hold up a sprig of the mystic Certagon, when the excessive grief will be assuaged, and the Devil will be compelled to flee. The best way to exorcise an evil spirit from the dead is to sit on the pall, to chew some seeds of Camphor while combing the hair of the corpse, and finally to wave aloft the Certagon—the Devil-chaser.

#### Noxious, Deadly, and Ill-Omened Plants.

Prof. De Gubernatis remarks that “there are good and bad herbs, and good and bad plants: the good are the work of Ormuzd, the bad the work of Ahriman.” All these bad herbs, plants, and trees, noxious, poisonous, and deadly—the dangerous classes in the vegetable kingdom—are of evil augury, and belong to the category of Plants of the Devil.

There are many trees and plants which emit emanations highly injurious, and in some cases fatal to life. Perhaps the most notorious of these is the deadly Upas, which rises in the ‘Valley of Death’ in Java, where it is said to blight all neighbouring vegetation, and to cause the very birds that approach it in their flight to drop down lifeless. No animal can live where its baneful influence extends, and no man durst approach its pestilential shade.

The Strychnos Tienté is the plant which yields the Upas Tienté, one of the Javanese poisons; it contains strychnia, and is as deadly as strychnine itself. The Upas Antiar is another Javanese poison—a bitter, milky juice, which acts violently on the heart.

The noxious exudations of the Manchineel-tree are said to cause certain death to those who rashly sleep beneath its foliage. The wonderfully fragrant blossoms of the Magnolia grandiflora emit so strong a perfume that, when inhaled in the immediate neighbourhood of a group in flower, it becomes overpowering. The Indians will never sleep under Magnolia in blossom.

Linnæus has mentioned a case in which the odour of the Oleander, or Rose-bay (Nerium Oleander), proved fatal. The foliage and flowers of this shrub will exercise a deadly influence on many quadrupeds: hence it is called in India the Horse-killer, and in Italy, Ass-bane.

The Elder-tree is reputed to exhale so narcotic a scent when in flower, that it is unwholesome for animals to rest under its shade; and it is considered unadvisable to plant one of these trees where its exhalations can be wafted into a sleeping apartment. On account of this pungent smell, country people often strike with Elder-boughs the leaves of fruit-trees and vegetables, in order that by being impregnated with the scent of the Elder-berries, they may prove noisome to troublesome insects.

The Jatropha urens, a native of Brazil, is a plant the properties of which are so noxious that its possession is absolutely fraught with danger. Not many years ago the Curator of Kew Gardens was one day reaching over a plant when its fine bristly stings touched his wrist: the first sensation was a numbness and swelling of the lips; the action of the poison was on the heart, circulation was stopped, and the unfortunate Curator soon fell unconscious. A doctor was fetched, who administered antidotes effectually; but no gardener could afterwards be got to come within arm’s length of the diabolical plant; and both it and another specimen, subsequently introduced, shortly afterwards mysteriously disappeared from the house.

The Nitraria tridentata, which is by some believed to be the Lotos-tree of the ancients, grows in the Desert of Soussa, near Tunis, and is called Damouch by the Arabs, who are fully alive to the semi-intoxicating qualities of its berries, which produce a state of lassitude similar to the infatuating food of the Lotophagi.

Alex. Pouchkine has given a vivid description of the Indian Antchar, thought to be a variety Aconitum ferox. Growing in a wild and sterile desert, this Antchar has its roots and the sickly verdure of its branches steeped in poison. Melted by the mid-day heat, the poison filters through the plant’s outer skin in clammy drops: in the evening these become congealed into a transparent gum. Birds turn aside directly they see this deadly plant; the tiger avoids it; a passing puff of wind shakes its foliage,—the wind hurries on tainted and infected; a shower waters for an instant its drooping leaves, and from its branches forthwith falls a deadly rain on the burning soil. But a man has made a sign: another man obeys. The Antchar must be procured. He departs without hesitation; and on the morrow brings back the deadly gum, and some drooping stalks and leaves, while from his pallid brow the cold sweat falls in streams. He staggers, falls on the mats of the tent, and, poor miserable slave, expires at the feet of his proud master. And the prince steeps his ruthless arrows in the cruel poison; they are destined to carry destruction to his neighbours across the frontier.

In Mexico there grows a herb, familiarly known there as the Loco or Rattle Weed, which has such a powerful effect on animals, that horses eating it are driven raving mad.

In Scotland there is a certain weed that grows in and about the Borgie Well at Cambuslang, near Glasgow, which possesses the awful property of making all who drink of its waters mad. Hence the local saying:

“A drink of the Borgie, a bite of the weed,
Sets a’ the Cam’slang folk wrang in the head.”

Some few plants are repellent from the obnoxious smells which they emit: among these are the Phallus impudicus, and many of the Stapelias. One—the Carrion-flower—has an odour so like putrid meat, that flesh flies, attracted by it, deposit their ova in the flowers; and when the maggots are in due course produced, they perish miserably for lack of food.

Zahn, in his Speculæ Physico-Mathematico-Historicæ (1696) enumerates several trees and plants which had, in his day, acquired a very sinister reputation. He tells us that—

“Herrera speaks of a tree, in Granada, called Aquapura, which is so poisonous, that when the Spaniards, at first ignorant of its deadly power, slept under its shade, their members were all swelled, as if they had taken dropsy. The barbarians also, who lingered naked or intoxicated under it, had their skin broken by large swellings, which distended their intestines, and brought them to a miserable death.

“There is a tree in Hispaniola, bearing Apples of a very fragrant smell, which, if they are tasted, prove hurtful and deadly. If any one abides for a time beneath its shade he loses sight and reason, and cannot be cured save by a long sleep. Similar trees are found in the island Codega.

“In the same island, Hispaniola, another kind of tree is found which produces fruit formed like Pears, very pleasant to the sight, and of delicious odour. If any one lies beneath its shade and falls asleep, his face begins to swell, and he is seized with severe pain in the head, and with the sorest cold. In the same island another tree is found, whose leaf, if touched, causes at once a tumour of a very painful nature to break out, which can only be checked and healed by frequent washing with sea water. There also grows a plant called Cohobba, which is said to be lymphatic. It intoxicates by its mere smell, and renders fanatical, Cardanus believes this plant to be of the Stramonium (Datura) family, which infuriates those who drink it.

“In New Andalusia very poisonous trees are seen. If one of their leaves were to fall upon a person, he would be killed at once, unless the place be quickly smeared with the spittle of a fasting man. These trees are called pestiferous and pestilent, from the sudden death which they cause, like the plague.

“In the island of San Juan de Porto Ricco grow certain small fruit-bearing trees which are so pernicious that if a person lies down and sleeps beneath their shade, he is seized with paralysis and cannot move from the place. Should, perchance, a fish taste of their fallen leaves, and a man eat the fish, he either dies at once or at least loses all his hair.

“On an island near Brazil a very pleasant tree is said to grow, whose leaves are not unlike those of the Laurel. But if any person should touch ‘a leaf of this tree, and then touch his face and eyes with the hand, he is at once deprived of sight and suffers the severest pains in his eyes. Not far distant, however, there grows another tree, whose leaves, if rubbed over the eyes, restore the eyesight, and remove the pains.

“Kircher relates that a wonderful tree is found in the Philippine Islands. Its leaves, facing eastward, are healthy, but those facing westward are poisonous.

“Clusius states that in America there is a kind of Larch, which makes men who sleep under its shade so delirious, that when they are awakened, they are out of their minds and assume strange attitudes. Some act like prophets, some like soldiers, some like merchants, everyone for the time being as his natural propensity impels him.

“In the bishopric of New Spain, called Antequera, around the valley of Guaxaca, a strange poisonous plant is found which, if given to anyone in food or drink, at once causes death. If it is dried and removed anywhere, according to the time from its being cut, it kills. Thus: if it has been cut for a year, so after a year it causes death; if for a month, then after a month it brings death.

“The inhabitants of Macassar in the island of Celebes obtain from a certain tree growing there a most deadly and virulent poison, in which they dip their weapons. So pestiferous is this poisonous tree, that the earth around it for some distance produces neither grass nor vegetable life of any kind. Although instant death may sometimes be avoided by means of antidotes, yet the victim is doomed to die even after a lapse of two or three years. Married men and Mushroom-eaters are more subject to the action of this poison than other people.

“Ophiusa, in the island of Elephantine, in Ethiopia, has a livid and horrid appearance. If persons drink it they become dreadfully afraid of serpents—so much so, that they commit suicide. Palm wine, however, is said to counteract its influence.

“The plant called Apium risus is noxious, through causing those who partake of it to die of excessive laughter. Apuleius says that this is more particularly the case when the herb is taken by a person who has not broken his fast. From the fact that the plant was also known as Sardonia arose the expression “sardonic smile.” People who taste it do not die at once from laughter, but, as Salustius relates, rather from the contraction of the nerves of the lips and the muscles of the mouth; but they appear to die by laughing.

“In Bactria and around the Dnieper, a plant called Gelotophyllis is said to grow, which, if it be drunk with wine and myrrh, produces continuous laughter. A similar result is produced by Arum Ægyptiacum, when eaten, and by the flowers or seed of the Datura.

“Therionarca grows in Cappadocia and Mysia. All wild animals which touch it become torpid, and can only regain animation by being besprinkled with the water voided by hyænas.”

### CHAPTER IX.
Plants of the Witches.

Hecate, the Grecian goddess of the infernal regions, presided over magic and enchantment, and may fairly be styled the goddess, queen, and patroness of Witches and sorcerers. She was acquainted with the properties of every herb, and imparted this knowledge to her daughters Medea and Circe.[13] To this trio of classical Witches were specially consecrated the following herbs:—The Mandrake, the Deadly Nightshade, the Common Nightshade, the Wolfs-bane, the Pontic Azalea, the Cyclamen, the Cypress, Lavender, Hyssop-leaved Mint, the Poley or Mountain Germander, the Ethiopian Pepper, the Corn Feverfew, the Cardamom, the Musk Mallow, the Oriental Sesame, the rough Smilax, the Lion’s-foot Cudweed (a love philtre), and Maidenhair, a plant particularly dear to Pluto. Medea was specially cognisant of the qualities of the Meadow Saffron, Safflower, Dyer’s Alkanet, the clammy Plantain or Fleawort, the Chrysanthemum, and the brown-berried Juniper. All these plants are, therefore, persistently sought for by Witches, who have not only the power of understanding and appreciating the value of herbs, but know also how to render harmless and innocuous plants baleful and deadly. Thus we find that an Italian Witch, condemned in 1474, was shown to have sown a certain noxious powder amidst the herbage near her dwelling, and the unfortunate cows, stricken at first with the Evil Eye, were at length attacked with a lingering but deadly malady. So, again, in the ‘Tempest,’ Shakspeare tells us that in the magic rings traced on the grass by the dance of the Elves, the herbage is imbued with a bitterness which is noisome to cattle. These rings, which are often to be met with on the Sussex Downs, are there called Hag-tracks, because they are thought to be caused by hags and Witches who dance there at night.

It is recorded that, during the period of the Witch persecutions, whoever found himself unexpectedly under an Elder-tree was involuntarily seized with such horror, that he in all probability fell into an ecstatic or hysterical state. Although not one of the trees dedicated to Hecate and her Witch progeny, the Elder appears to have invariably possessed a certain weird attraction for mischievous Elves and Witches, who are fond of seeking the shelter of its pendent boughs, and are wont to bury their satanic offspring, with certain cabalistic ceremonies, beneath its roots.

These satanic children of Witches are elfish creatures, sometimes butterflies, sometimes bumble bees, sometimes caterpillars or worms. They are called good or bad things—Holds or Holdikens. The Witches injure cattle with them; conjure them into the stem of a tree; and, as we have seen, bury them under the Elder-bushes; then, as the caterpillars eat the foliage of the tree, the hearts of those people are troubled of whom the Witches think.

The ill-omened Cercis Siliquastrum, or Judas Tree, is reputed to be specially haunted by Witches, who experience a grim pleasure in assembling around the tree on which the traitorous disciple is said to have hung himself. Perhaps it is they who have spread the tradition that death overtakes anyone who is unfortunate enough to fall into one of these trees.

The Witches of the Tyrol are reputed to have a great partiality for Alder-trees.

Witches are fond of riding about through the air in the dead of night, and perform long journeys to attend their meetings. Matthison tells us that

“From the deep mine rush wildly out
The troop of Gnomes in hellish rout:
Forth to the Witches’ club they fly;
The Griffins watch as they go by.
The horn of Satan grimly sounds;
On Blocksberg’s flanks strange din resounds,
And Spectres crowd its summit high.”

Their favourite steeds for these midnight excursions are besoms, which are generally to be found ready to hand; but the large Ragwort (which in Ireland is called the Fairies’ Horse) is highly prized for aerial flights. Bulrushes are also employed for locomotive purposes, and other plants are used for equipments, as we read in ‘The Witch of Fife’:—

“The first leet night, quhan the new moon set,
Quhan all was dousse and mirk,
We saddled our naigis wi’ the Moon-fern leif,
And rode fra Kilmerrin Kirk.
Some horses were of the Brume-cane framit,
And some of the greine Bay-tree,
But mine was made of are Humloke schaw,
And a stout stallion was he.”

William of Auverne, who wrote in the thirteenth century, states that when the Witches of his time wished to go to the place of rendezvous, they took a Reed or Cane, and, on making some magical signs, and uttering certain barbarous words, it became transformed into a horse, which carried them thither with extraordinary rapidity.

If the Witches are married, it becomes necessary to administer to their husbands a potion that shall cause them to slumber and keep them asleep during the Witches’ absence in the night. For this purpose the Sleep-Apple, a mossy sort of excrescence on the Wild Rose, and Hawthorn (called in the Edda Sleep-Thorn), are employed, because they will not allow anyone to awake till they are taken away. A very favourite plant made use of by American Witches to produce a similar result, is the Flor de Pesadilla, or Nightmare Flower of Buenos Ayres, a small, dark-green foliaged plant, with lanceolate leaves and clusters of greenish-white flowers, which emit a powerful narcotic smell. From the acrid milky juice pressed from the stem of this plant, Witches obtain a drug which, administered to their victims, keeps them a prey all night to terrible dreams, from which they awake with a dull throbbing sensation in the brain, while a peculiar odour pervades the chamber, causing the air to appear heavy and stifling.

Ben Jonson, in his ‘Masque of Queens,’ introduces therein a conventicle of Witches, who, as part of the business which has brought them together, relate their deeds. One of the hags, who has been gathering that mysterious plant of superstition, the Mandragora, croaks:—

“I last night lay all alone
On the ground, to hear the Mandrake groan;
And plucked him up, though he grew full low;
And, as I had done, the cock did crow.”

Another, whose sinister proceedings have excited the neighbouring watch-dogs, remarks:—

“And I ha’ been plucking plants among
Hemlock, Henbane, Adder’s-tongue;
Nightshade, Moonwort, Libbard’s-bane,
And twice by the dogs was like to be ta’en.”

And a third, who has procured a supply of the plants needful for the working of the Witches’ spells, says:—

“Yes, I have brought to help our vows
Homed Poppy, Cypress boughs,
The Fig-tree wild that grows on tombs,
And juice that from the Larch-tree comes.”

One of the principal results of the knowledge possessed by Witches of the properties of herbs was the concoction by them of noxious or deadly potions with which they were enabled to work their impious spells. Ovid tells us how Medea, in compounding a poisonous draught, employed Monk’s-hood or Wolfs-bane, the deadly Aconitum, that sprang up from the foam of the savage many-headed Cerberus, the watch-dog of the infernal regions:—

“Medea to dispatch a dang’rous heir
(She knew him) did a poisonous draught prepare,
Drawn from a drug long while reserved in store,
For desp’rate uses, from the Scythian shore,
That from the Echidnæan monster’s jaws
Derived its origin.”

Medea’s sister, the Enchantress Circe, having been neglected by a youth for whom she had conceived a passion, turned him, by means of a herb potion, into a brutal shape, for

“Love refused, converted to disdain.
Then, mixing powerful herbs with magic art,
She changed his form who could not change his heart.”

So intimate was the acquaintance of this celebrated Witch with the subtle properties of all plants, that by the aid of the noxious juices she extracted from them, she was enabled to exercise marvellous powers of enchantment. At her bidding,

“Now strange to tell, the plants sweat drops of blood,
The trees are toss’d from forests where they stood;
Blue serpents o’er the tainted herbage slide,
Pale glaring spectres on the æther ride.”

Circe was assiduous in “simpling on the flow’ry hills,” and her attendants were taught to despise the ordinary occupations of women: they were unburdened by household cares,

“But culled, in canisters, disastrous flowers
And plants from haunted heaths and Fairy bowers,
With brazen sickles reap’d at planetary hours
Each dose the goddess weighed with watchful eye;
So nice her art in impious pharmacy.”

Old Gerarde tells us that Circe made use in her incantations and witchcrafts of the Mullein or Hag-taper (Verbascum Thapsus); and Gower relates of Medea that she employed the Feldwode, which is probably the same plant, its Anglo-Saxon name being Feldwyrt.

“Tho toke she Feldwode and Verveine,
Of herbes ben nought better tweine.”

The composition of philtres, and the working of spells and incantations to induce love, are amongst the most highly prized of witches’ functions, investing them with a power which they delight to wield, and leading to much pecuniary profit.

In Moore’s ‘Light of the Haram,’ the Enchantress Namouna, who was acquainted with all spells and talismans, instructs Nourmahall to gather at midnight—“the hour that scatters spells on herb and flower”—certain blossoms that, when twined into a wreath, should act as a spell to recall her Selim’s love. The flowers gathered, the Enchantress proceeds to weave the magic chaplet, singing the while—

“I know where the wing’d visions dwell
That around the night-bed play;
I know each herb and floweret’s bell,
Where they hide their wings by day;
Then hasten we, maid,
To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.
“The image of love, that nightly flies
To visit the bashful maid;
Steals from the Jasmine flower, that sighs
Its soul, like her, in the shade.
The dream of a future happier hour,
That alights on misery’s brow,
Springs out of the silvery Almond flower
That blooms on a leafless bough.
“The visions that oft to worldly eyes
The glitter of mines unfold,
Inhabit the mountain herb that dyes
The tooth of the fawn like gold.
The phantom shapes—oh, touch not them!—
That appal the murderer’s sight,
Lurk in the fleshly Mandrake’s stem,
That shrieks when pluck’d at night!
“The dream of the injur’d, patient mind,
That smiles at the wrongs of men,
Is found in the bruis’d and wounded rind
Of the Cinnamon, sweetest then.
Then hasten we, maid,
To twine our braid,
To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.”

The chief strength of poor witches lies in the gathering and boiling of herbs. The most esteemed herbs for their purposes are the Betony-root, Henbane, Mandrake, Deadly Nightshade, Origanum, Antirrhinum, female Phlox, Arum, Red and White Celandine, Millefoil, Horned Poppy, Fern, Adder’s-tongue, and ground Ivy. Root of Hemlock, “digged in the dark,” slips of Yew, “slivered in the moon’s eclipse,” Cypress, Wild Fig, Larch, Broom, and Thorn are also associated with Witches and their necromancy. The divining Gall-apple of the Oak, the mystic Mistletoe, the Savin, the Moonwort, the Vervain, and the St. John’s Wort are considered magical, and therefore form part of the Witches’ pharmacopœia—to be produced as occasion may require, and their juices infused in the hell-broths, philtres, potions, and baleful draughts prepared for their enemies. Cuckoo-flowers are gathered in the meadows on the first of May. Chervil and Pennyroyal are used because they both have the effect of making anyone tasting their juices see double. Often many herbs are boiled together—by preference seven or nine. Three kinds of wood make bewitched water boil. Witch-ointments, to be effective, must contain seven herbs.

One of the favourite remedies of Scotch Witches is the Woodbine or Honeysuckle. In effecting their magical cures, they cause their patients to pass a certain number of times (usually nine) through a “girth” or garland of Woodbine, repeating the while certain incantations and invocations. According to Spenser, Witches in the Spring of every year were accustomed to do penance, and purify themselves by bathing in water wherein Origane and Thyme had been placed:—

“Till on a day (that day is every Prime,
When witches wont do penance for their crime)
I chaunst to see her in her proper hew,
Bathing herself in Origane and Thyme.”

In Lower Germany, the Honeysuckle is called Albranke, the Witch-snare. Long running plants and entangled twigs are called Witch-scapes, and the people believe that a Witch hard pursued could escape by their means.

On the Walpurgisnacht, the German Witches are wont to gather Fern to render themselves invisible. As a protection against them, the country people, says Aubrey, “fetch a certain Thorn, and stick it at their house door, believing the Witches can then do them no harm.” On the way to the orgies of this night, the Oldenburg Witches are reputed to eat up all the red buds of the Ash, so that on St. John’s Day the Ash-trees appear denuded of them.

The German Witches are cunning in the use and abuse of roots: for example, they recommend strongly the Meisterwurzel (root of the master), the Bärwurzel (root of the bears), the Eberwurzel (root of the wild boar), and the Hirschwurzel (root of the stag—a name given to the Wild Parsley, to the Black Gentian, and to the Thapsia), as a means of making a horse run for three consecutive days without feeding him.

On St. John’s Eve, the Witches of Russia are busily engaged searching on the mountains for the Gentiana amarella, and on the morning of St. John’s Day, for the Lythrum silicaria, without having found which no one can hope to light upon the former herb. These herbs being hostile to Witches, are sought by them only to be destroyed.

In Franche-Comté they tell of a certain satanic herb, of which the juice gives to Witches the power of riding in the air on a broomstick when they wish to proceed to their nocturnal meeting.

#### Plants used for Charms and Spells.

In mediæval times the sick poor were accustomed to seek and find the relief and cure of their ailments at the hands of studious, kind-hearted monks, and gentle, sympathetic nuns; but after the Reformation, the practice of the healing art was relegated either to charitable gentlewomen, who deemed it part of their duty to master the mysteries of simpling, or to the Wise Woman of the village, who frequently combined the professions of midwife and simpler, and collected and dispensed medical herbs. Too often, however, the trade in simples and herbs was carried on by needy and ignorant persons—so-called herbalists, quack doctors, and charlatans, or aged crones, desirous of turning to account the superficial knowledge they possessed of the properties of the plants which grew on the neighbouring hill-sides, or were to be found nearer at hand in the fields and hedgerows. As these simplers and herbalists often made serious mistakes in their treatment, and were willing, as a rule, to supply noisome and poisonous herbs to anyone who cared to pay their price, it is not to be wondered at that they were often regarded with dread by their ignorant neighbours, and that eventually they came to be stigmatised as Wizards and Witches.

In the preface to “The Brittish Physician,” a work issued by one Robert Turner, “botanical student,” two hundred years ago, the author, after expatiating on the value of herbs and plants, adds: “but let us not offer sacrifices unto them, and say charms over them, as the Druids of old and other heathens; and as do some cacochymists, Medean hags, and sorcerers nowadays, who, not contented with the lawful use of the creatures, out of some diabolical intention, search after the more magical and occult vertues of herbs and plants to accomplish some wicked ends; and for that very cause, King Hezekiah, fearing lest the herbals of Solomon should come into profane hands, caused them to be burned.” The old herbalist was doubtless acquainted with many of the superstitious practices of the “Medean hags”—the Wise Women, old wives, and Witches of the country—to whom he so scathingly refers. These ill-favoured beldames had a panacea for every disease, a charm or a potion for every disorder, a talisman or amulet against every ill. In addition to herbs, Rowan-tree, salt, enchanted flints, south-running water, and doggrel verses were the means employed for effecting a cure; whilst diseases were supposed to be laid on by forming pictures and images of clay or wax, by placing a dead hand or mutilated member in the house of the intended victim, or by throwing enchanted articles at his door. In reality, however, the mischief was done by means of poisonous herbs or deadly potions, cunningly prepared by the Witch and her confederates.

One of the most remarkable of the many superstitions inculcated by these ignorant and designing Witches and quacks, was the notion that diseases could be transferred from human beings to trees. Gilbert White has recorded that at Selborne there stood, in his time, a row of Pollard-Ashes which, when young and flexible, had been severed and held open by wedges, while ruptured children, stripped naked, were pushed through the apertures, under a belief that their infirmity would be thereby cured. Children were also passed through cleft trees, to cast out all witchcraft, or to neutralise its baleful effects, and to protect them from the influence of Witches; and sometimes they were passed through the branches of a Maple, in order that they might be long-lived. Sick sheep were made to go through the cleft of a young Oak, with a view of transferring their diseases to the spirit of the tree. People afflicted with ague were directed to repair to the Cross Oaks which grew at the junctions of cross-roads, for the purpose of transferring to them their malady. Aguish patients were ordered to proceed without speaking or crossing water, to a lofty Willow, to make a gash in it, breathe three times into the crevice, close it quickly, and hasten away without looking back: if they did this correctly, the ague was warranted to leave them. A twisted neck or cuts in the body were thought to be cured by twisting a Willow round the affected part. In the West of England, peasants suffering from blackhead were bidden to crawl under an arched Bramble, and if they had the toothache, the prescribed remedy was for them to bite the first Fern that appeared in Spring. In other parts of the country toothache was cured by sticking into the bark of a young tree the decayed tooth after it had been drawn. If a child did not willingly learn to walk, the Wise Woman of the village would direct its troubled mother to make it creep through the long withes of the Blackberry-bush, which were grown down to the earth, and had taken fresh root therein. Sufferers from gout were relieved by the Witch transferring the disorder to some old Pine-tree, or rather to the genius inhabiting it. Many magical arts attended the transference of the disease to the spirit of the vicarious tree, and the operation was generally accompanied by the recital of some formula. Amongst the forms of adjuration was the following commencement: “Twig, I bind thee; fever, now leave me!” A sufferer from cramp was ordered to stretch himself on a Plum-tree, and say, “Climbing-plant, stand! Plum-tree, waver.”

If we seek for the origin of this superstitious notion of transferring diseases to trees, we shall find a clue in the works of Prof. Mannhardt, who recounts the names of demons which in Germany are identified with nearly all the maladies of plants, and particularly with those of Wheat and vegetables.[14] The superstitious country people, struck with the affinity which exists between the vegetable world and the animal world, came, in course of time, to think that the same demon caused the disease of plants and that of man; and therefore they conceived that, in order to safeguard mankind, it was only necessary to confine the demon in the plant. Examples of this belief are still to be found in our own country, and similar superstitious observances are common on the Continent. The German peasant creeps through an Oak cleft to cure hernia and certain other disorders; and the Russian moujik splits an Ilex in order to perform a similar curative operation. De Gubernatis tells us that the Venetian peasant, when fever-stricken, repairs to a tree, binds up the trunk, and says to it thrice, without taking breath, “I place thee here, I leave thee here, and I shall now depart.” Thereupon the fever leaves the patient; but if the tree be a fruit tree, it will from that time cease to yield fruit. In the Netherlands, a countryman who is suffering from the ague will go early in the morning to an old Willow-tree, tie three knots in a branch, and say: “Good morning, old one! I give thee the cold; good morning, old one.” This done, he will turn round quickly, and run off as fast as he can, without looking behind him.

But to revert to the superstitious practices of English Witches, Wise Women, and midwives. One of their prescriptions for the ague was as follows:—A piece of the nail of each of the patient’s fingers and toes, and a bit of hair from the nape of the neck, being cut whilst the patient was asleep, the whole were wrapped up in paper, and the ague which they represented was put into a hole in an Aspen tree, and left there, when by degrees the ague would quit the patient’s body. A very old superstition existed that diseases could be got rid of by burying them: and, indeed, Ratherius relates that, so early as the tenth century, a case of epilepsy was cured by means of a buried Peach-blossom; it is not surprising, therefore, that English Witches should have professed themselves able to cure certain disorders in this fashion; and accordingly we find that diseases and the means of their cure were ordered by them to be buried in the earth and in ants’ nests.

One of the Witches’ most reliable sources of obtaining money from their dupes was the concoction of love-philtres for despondent swains and love-sick maidens. In the composition of these potions, the juices of various plants and herbs were utilised; but these will be found adverted to in the chapter on Magical Plants. Fresh Orchis was employed by these cunning and unscrupulous simplers, to beget pure love; and dried Orchis to check illicit love. Cyclamen was one of the herbs prescribed by aged crones for a love potion, and by midwives it was esteemed a most precious and invaluable herb; but an expectant mother was cautioned to avoid and dread its presence. If, acting on the advice of the Wise Woman, she ate Quince- and Coriander-seed, her child, it was promised, would assuredly be ingenious and witty; but, on the contrary, should she chance to partake too bountifully of Onions, Beans, or similar vaporous vegetable food, she was warned that her offspring would be a fool, and possibly even a lunatic. Mothers were also sagely cautioned that to preserve an infant from evil, it was necessary to feed it with Ash-sap directly it was born; and they were admonished that it should never be weaned while the trees were in blossom, or it would have grey hair.

As relics of the charms and prescriptions of the old Witches, countless superstitions connected with plants are to be found at the present day rife in all parts of the country. Of these the following are perhaps the principal:—For the cure of diseases: Blue Cornflowers gathered on Corpus Christi Sunday stop nose-bleeding if they are held in the hand till they are warm. Club Moss is considered good for all diseases of the eyes, and Euphrasy and Rue for dimness of sight. Cork has the power of keeping off the cramp, and so have Horse-chesnuts if carried in the pocket. Elder-sticks in the pocket of a horseman when riding prevent galling; and the same, with three, five, or seven knots, if carried in the pocket will ward off rheumatism. A Potato (stolen, if possible) or a piece of Rowan-wood in the trousers pocket will also cure rheumatism. The roots of Pellitory of Spain and Tarragon, held between the teeth, cure the toothache, and so will splinters of an Oak struck by lightning. Hellebore, Betony, Honesty, and Rue are antidotes against madness. The root of a male Peony, dried and tied to the neck, cures epilepsy and relieves nightmare. Castoreum, Musk, Rue-seed, and Agnus Castus-seed are likewise all remedies for nightmare. Chelidonium placed under the bare feet will cure jaundice. A twig of Myrtle carried about the person is efficacious in cases of tumour in the groin. Green Wormwood placed in the shoes will relieve pains in the stomach of the wearer. Spurge and Laurel-leaves, if broken off upwards, will cause vomiting; if downwards, purging. Plantain laid under the feet removes weariness; and with Mugwort worn beneath the soles of his feet a man may walk forty miles without tiring. Agnus Castus, if carried in the hand, will prevent weariness; and when placed in a bed preserves chastity. Henbane, laid between the sheets, also preserves chastity, and will besides kill fleas. Necklaces of Peony-root, worn by children, prevent convulsions. The excrescence found in Rose-bushes, known as “Robin Redbreast’s Cushion,” when hung round children’s necks, will cure whooping-cough. Pansy-leaves, placed in the shoe, or Sage-leaves eaten, will cure ague. The roots of white Briony, bruised and applied to any place, when the bones are broken, help to draw them forth, as also splinters, arrow-heads, and thorns in the flesh. The root of an Iris, if it grow upwards, will attract all thorns from the flesh; if, on the contrary, it inclines downwards, it will cure wounds. A piece of Oak, rubbed in silence on the body, on St. John’s Day, before the sun rises, heals all open wounds. An Apple is deemed potent against warts, and so is a green Elder-stick, rubbed over them, and then buried in muck, to rot. Sometimes the Elder-stick has a notch cut in it for each wart; it is then rubbed over the warts, and finally burned. Warts are also cured by pricking them with a Gooseberry-thorn passed through a wedding-ring; and by rubbing them with a Bean-shell, which is afterwards secretly taken under an Ash-tree by the operator, who then repeats the words—

“As this Bean-shell rots away,
So my warts shall soon decay.”

Catmint will cause those of the most gentle and mild dispositions to become fierce and quarrelsome. Crocus-flowers will produce laughter and great joy. Rosemary, worn about the body, strengthens the memory. He who sows seed should be careful not to lay it on a table, otherwise it will not grow. In sowing peas, take some of them in your mouth before the sun goes down, keep them there in silence while you are sowing the rest, and this will preserve them from sparrows. A piece of wood out of a coffin that has been dug up, when laid in a Cabbage-bed, will defend it from caterpillars. A bunch of wild Thyme and Origanum, laid by the milk in a dairy, prevents its being spoiled by thunder: Sunflowers are also held to be a protection against thunder. A bunch of Nettles laid in the barrel, in brewing, answers the same purpose. Water Pepper, put under the saddle of a tired horse, will refresh him and cause him to travel well again. Basil, if allowed to rot under an earthen jar, will become changed into scorpions, and the frequent smelling of this herb is apt to generate certain animals like scorpions in the brain. The Oak being a prophetic tree, a fly in the gall-nut is held to foretell war; a maggot, dearth; a spider, pestilence.

Probably the most frequent visitors to the Witch’s cottage were vain and silly maidens, desirous either of procuring some potion which should enhance their rustic charms, or of learning from the lips of the Witch the mysteries of the future. To such credulous applicants the beldame would impart the precious secrets, that Lilies of the Valley, gathered before sunrise, and rubbed over the face, would take away freckles; and that Wild Tansy, soaked in butter-milk for nine days, and then applied as a wash to the face, would cause the user to look handsome. For those who were anxious to consult her as to their love affairs, or desired to test her powers of divination, the Witch had an abundant stock of charms and amulets, and was prepared with mystic and unerring spells. She would take a root of the Bracken-fern, and, cutting its stem very low down, would show to the inquiring maiden the initial letter of her future husband’s name. She knew where to procure two-leaved and four-leaved Clover, and even-leaved Ash, by the aid of which lovers would be forthcoming before the day was over. She could instruct a lass in the mystic rite of Hemp-sowing in the churchyard at midnight on St. Valentine’s Eve. She knew and would reveal where Yarrow was to be found growing on a dead man’s grave, and would teach country wenches the charmed verse to be repeated when the magic plant should be placed beneath their pillow. She could superintend the construction of “The Witches’ Chain” by three young women, and could provide the necessary Holly, Juniper, and Mistletoe-berries, with an Acorn for the end of each link; and she would instruct them how to wind this mystic chain around a long thin log of wood, which was to be placed on the fire, accompanied by many magical rites (the secret of which she would divulge), and then burnt, with the promised result that just as the last Acorn was consumed, each of the three maidens should see her future husband walk across the room, or if she were doomed to celibacy, then a coffin or some misshapen form.

The Witch was cunning in the composition of draughts which should procure dreams, and the secret of many of these potions is still known and treasured. Thus: fresh Mistletoe-berries (not exceeding nine in number), steeped in a liquid composed of equal proportions of wine, beer, vinegar, and honey, taken as pills on an empty stomach before going to bed, will cause dreams of your future destiny (providing you retire to rest before twelve) either on Christmas-eve or on the first and third of a new moon. Similar dreams may be procured by making a nosegay of various-coloured flowers, one of a sort, a sprig of Rue, and some Yarrow off a grave; these must be sprinkled with a few drops of the oil of Amber, applied with the left hand, and bound round the head under the night-cap, when retiring to bed, which must be supplied with clean linen. A prophetic dream is to be procured through the medium of what is known as “Magic Laurel,” by carrying out the following formula:—Rise between three and four o’clock in the morning of your birthday, with cautious secresy, so as to be observed by no one, and pluck a sprig of Laurel; convey it to your chamber, and hold it over some lighted brimstone for five minutes, which you must carefully note by a watch or dial; wrap it in a white linen cloth or napkin, together with your own name written on paper, and that of your lover (or if there is more than one, write all the names down), write also the day of the week, the date of the year, and the age of the moon; then haste and bury it in the ground, where you are sure it will not be disturbed for three days and three nights; then take it up, and place the parcel under your pillow for three nights, and your dreams will be truly prophetic as to your destiny. A dream of fate is to be procured on the third day of the months between September and March by any odd number of young women not exceeding nine, if each string nine Acorns on a separate string (or as many Acorns as there are young women), wrap them round a long stick of wood, and place it in the fire, precisely at midnight. The maidens, keeping perfect silence, must then sit round the fire till all the Acorns are consumed, then take out the ashes, and retire to bed directly, repeating—

“May love and marriage be the theme,
To visit me in this night’s dream;
Gentle Venus, be my friend,
The image of my lover send;
Let me see his form and face,
And his occupation trace;
By a symbol or a sign,
Cupid, forward my design.”

#### Plants Antagonistic to Witchcraft.

The Rowan, Mountain Ash, or Care-tree has a great repute among country folk in the cure of ills arising from supernatural as well as natural causes. It is dreaded and shunned by evil spirits; it renders null the spells of Witches and sorcerers, and has many other marvellous properties. A piece of Rowan wood carried in the pocket of a peasant acts as a charm against ill-wishes, and bunches of Care suspended over the cow’s stall and wreathed around her horns will guard her from the effects of the Evil Eye and keep, her in health, more especially if her master does not forget to repeat regularly the pious prayer—

“From Witches and Wizards, and long-tailed Buzzards,
And creeping things that run in hedge-bottoms,
Good Lord, deliver us!”

The Ash, in common with the Rowan-tree, possesses the property of resisting the attacks of Witches, Elves, and other imps of darkness; on this account Ash-sap is administered to newly-born children, as without some such precaution the Fairies or Witches might change the child, or even steal it.

“Rowan, Ash, and red thread
Keep the Devils frae their speed.”

The Hazel, according to German tradition, is inimical to Witches and enchanters. North says that by means of Hazel-rods Witches can be compelled to restore to animals and plants the fecundity of which by their malign influence they had previously deprived them.

Elder, gathered on the last day of April, and affixed to the doors and windows of the house, disappoints designing Witches and protects the inhabitants from their diabolical spells.

Mistletoe, as a distinctly sacred plant, is considered a talisman against witchcraft. A small sprig of this mystic plant worn round the neck is reputed to possess the power of repelling Witches, always provided that the bough from which it was cut has not been allowed to touch the earth after being gathered. Plucked with certain ceremonies on the Eve of St. John, and hung up in windows, it is considered an infallible protection against Witches, evil spirits, and phantoms, as well as against storms and thunder.

Cyclamen would appear to be considered a preservative from the assaults of witchcraft and evil spirits, if we may judge from the following couplet:—

“St. John’s Wort and fresh Cyclamen she in her chamber kept,
From the power of evil angels to guard him while he slept.”

Vervain and St. John’s Wort, carried about the person, will prove a sure preservation against the wiles of Satan and the machinations and sorcery of Witches.

“Gin you would be leman of mine,
Lay aside the St. John’s Wort and the Vervain.”

Dill has also the reputation of counteracting the enchantments of Witches and sorcerers—

“The Verdain and the Dill
That hindreth Witches of their will.”

St. John’s Wort (Hypericum), the Fuga Dæmonum of the old writers, is a plant detested by Witches, who are scared when in its neighbourhood.

“St. John’s Wort, scaring from the midnight heath
The Witch and Goblin with its spicy breath.”

Herb Paris, according to Matthiolus, takes away all evil done by witchcraft; Pimpernel is potent to prevent it; and Angelica worn round the neck will defeat the malignant designs of Witches, who moreover, it is satisfactory to know, detest the Bracken Fern, because if its stem be cut, there will be found therein the monogram of Christ. Flowers of a yellow or greenish hue, growing in hedgerows, are also repugnant to them.

In the Tyrol there exists a belief that by binding Rue, Broom, Maidenhair, Agrimony, and ground Ivy, into one bundle, the bearer of the same is enabled to see and know Witches.

### CHAPTER X.
Magical Plants.

In remote ages, the poisonous or medicinal properties of plants were secrets learnt by the most intelligent and observant members of pastoral and nomadic tribes and clans; and the possessor of these secrets became often both medicine-man and priest, reserving to himself as much as possible the knowledge he had acquired of herbs and their uses, and particularly of those that would produce stupor, delirium, and madness; for by these means he could produce in himself and others many startling and weird manifestations, which the ignorance of his fellows would cause them to attribute to Divine or supernatural causes. The Zuckungen, or convulsions, ecstacies, temporary madness, and ravings, that formerly played so important a part in the oracular and sacerdotal ceremonies, and which survive even at the present day, had their origin in the tricks played by the ancient medicine-man in order to retain his influence over his superstitious brethren. The exciting and soporific properties of certain herbs and plants, and the peculiar phenomena which, in skilful hands, they could be made to produce in the victim, were well known to the ancient seers and priests, and so were easily foretold; while the symptoms and effects could be varied accordingly as the plants were dried, powdered, dissolved in water, eaten freshly gathered, or burnt as incense on the altars. The subtle powers of opiates obtained from certain plants were among the secrets carefully preserved by the magi and priests.

According to Prosper Alpinus, dreams of paradise and celestial visions were produced among the Egyptians by the use of Opium; and Kaempfer relates that after having partaken of an opiate in Persia, he fell into an ecstatic state, in which he conceived himself to be flying in the air beyond the clouds, and associating with celestial beings.

From the juice of the Hemp, the Egyptians have for ages prepared an intoxicating extract, called Hashîsh, which is made up into balls of the size of a Chestnut. Having swallowed some of these, and thereby produced a species of intoxication, they experience ecstatic visions.

Among the Brahmins, the Soma, a sacred drink prepared from the pungent juice of the Asclepias acida, or Cyanchum viminale, was one of the means used to produce the ecstatic state. Soma juice was employed to complete the phrensied trances of the Indian Yogis or seers: it is said to have the effect of inducing the ecstatic state, in which the votary appears in spirit to soar beyond the terrestrial regions, to become united with Brahma, and to acquire universal lucidity (clairvoyance). Windischmann observes that in the remote past, the mystic Soma was taken as a holy act—a species of sacrament; and that, by this means, the soul of the communicant became united with Brahma. It is frequently said that even Parashpati partook of this celestial beverage, the essence, as it is called, of all nourishment. In the human sacrifices, the Soma-drink was prepared with magical ceremonies and incantations, by which means the virtues of the inferior and superior worlds were supposed to be incorporated with the potion.

John Weir speaks of a plant, growing on Mount Lebanon, which places those who taste it in a state of visionary ecstacy; and Gassendi relates that a fanatical shepherd in Provence prepared himself for the visionary and prophetic state by using Stramonium.

The Laurel was held specially sacred to Apollo, and the Pythia who delivered the answer of the god to those who consulted the famous oracle at Delphi, before becoming inspired, shook a Laurel-tree that grew close by, and sometimes ate the leaves with which she crowned herself. A Laurel-branch was thought to impart to prophets the faculty of seeing that which was obscure or hidden; and the tree was believed to possess the property of inducing sleep and visions. Among the ancients it was also thought useful in driving away spectres. Evelyn, remarking on the custom of prophets and soothsayers sleeping upon the boughs and branches of trees, or upon mattresses composed of their leaves, tells us that the Laurel and Agnus Castus were plants “which greatly composed the phansy, and did facilitate true visions, and that the first was specially efficacious to inspire a poetical fury.” According to Abulensis, he adds, “such a tradition there goes of Rebekah, the wife of Isaac, in imitation of her father-in-law.” And he thinks it probable that from that incident the Delphic Tripos, the Dodonæan Oracle in Epirus, and others of a similar description, took their origin. Probably, when introducing the Jewish fortune-tellers in his sixth satire, Juvenal alludes to the practice of soothsayers and sibyls sleeping on branches and leaves of trees, in the lines—

“With fear
The poor she-Jew begs in my Lady’s ear,
The grove’s high-priestess, heaven’s true messenger,
Jerusalem’s old laws expounds to her.”

The Druids, besides being priests, prophets, and legislators, were also physicians; they were acquainted, too, with the means of producing trances and ecstacies, and as one of their chief medical appliances they made use of the Mistletoe, which they gathered at appointed times with certain solemn ceremonies, and considered it as a special gift of heaven. This plant grew on the Oak, the sacred tree of the Celts and Druids; it was held in the highest reverence, and both priests and people then regarded it as divine. To this day the Welsh call Pren-awr—the celestial tree—

“The mystic Mistletoe,
Which has no root, and cannot grow
Or prosper but by that same tree
It clings to.”

The sacred Oak itself was thought to possess certain magical properties in evoking the spirit of prophecy: hence we find the altars of the Druids were often erected beneath some venerated Oak-tree in the sombre recesses of the sacred grove; and it was under the shadow of such trees that the ancient Germans offered up their holy sacrifices, and their inspired bards made their prophetic utterances. The Greeks had their prophetic Oaks that delivered the oracles of Jupiter in the sacred grove of Dodona—

“Such honours famed Dodona’s grove acquired,
As justly due to trees by heaven inspired;
When once her Oaks did fate’s decrees reveal,
And taught wise men truths future to foretel.”—Rapin.

The Arcadians attributed another magical power to the Oak, for they believed that by stirring water with an Oaken bough rain could be brought from the clouds.

The Russians are acquainted with a certain herb which they call Son-trava, or Dream Herb, which has been identified with the Pulsatilla patens. This plant is said to blossom in the month of April, and to put forth an azure-coloured flower; if this is placed under the pillow, it will induce dreams, and these dreams are said to be fulfilled. In England, a four-leaved Clover similarly treated will produce a like result.

Like the Grecian sorceresses, Medea and Circe, the Vedic magicians were acquainted with numerous plants which would produce love-philtres of the most powerful character, if not altogether irresistible. The favourite flowers among the Indians for their composition are the Mango, Champak, Jasmine, Lotus, and Asoka. According to Albertus Magnus, the most powerful flower for producing love is that which he calls Provinsa. The secret of this plant had been transmitted by the Chaldeans. The Greeks knew it as Vorax, the Latins as Proventalis or Provinsa; and it is probably the same plant now known to the Sicilians as the Pizzu’ngurdu, to which they attribute most subtle properties. Thus the chastest of women will become the victim of the most burning passion for the man who, after pounding the Pizzu’ngurdu, is able to administer it to her in any sort of food.

Satyrion was a favourite herb with magicians, sorceresses, Witches, and herbalists, who held it to be one of the most powerful incentives of amatory passions. Kircher relates the case of a youth who, whenever he visited a certain corner of his garden, became so inflamed with passionate longings, that, with the hope of obtaining relief, he mentioned the circumstance to a friend, who, upon examing the spot, found it overgrown with a species of Satyrion, the odour from which had the effect of producing amatory desires.

The Mandrake, Carrot, Cyclamen, Purslain (Aizoon), Valerian, Navel-wort (Umbilicus Veneris), Wild Poppy (Papaver Argemone), Anemone, Orchis odoratissima, O. cynosorchis, O. tragorchis, O. triorchis, and others of the same family, and Maidenhair Fern (Capillus Veneris) have all of them the property of inspiring love.

In Italy, Basil is considered potent to inspire love, and its scent is thought to engender sympathy. Maidens think that it will stop errant young men and cause them to love those from whose hands they accept a sprig. In England, in olden times, the leaves of the Periwinkle, when eaten by man and wife, were supposed to cause them to love one another. An old name appertaining to this plant was that of the “Sorcerer’s Violet,” which was given to it on account of its frequent use by wizards and quacks in the manufacture of their charms against the Evil Eye and malign spirits. The French knew it as the Violette des Sorciers, and the Italians as Centocchio, or Hundred Eyes.

In Poland, a plant called Troizicle, which has bluish leaves and red flowers, has the reputation of causing love and forgetfulness of the past, and of enabling him who employs it to go wherever he desires.

Helmontius speaks of a herb that when held in the palm of the hand until it grows warm, will rapidly acquire the power of detaining the hand of another until it not only grows warm, also, but the owner becomes inflamed with love. He states that by its use he inspired a dog with such love for himself, that he forsook a kind mistress to follow him, a stranger. This herb is said to be met with everywhere, but unfortunately the name is not given.

Cumin is thought to possess a mystical power of retention: hence it has found its way into many a love-philtre, as being able to ensure fidelity and constancy in love.

Among the plants and flowers to which the power of divination has been ascribed, and which are consulted for the most part by rustic maidens in affairs of the heart, are the Centaury, Bluet, or Horseknot, the Starwort, the Ox-eye Daisy, the Dandelion, Bachelor’s Buttons, the Primrose, the Rose, the Poppy, the Hypericum, the Orpine, the Yarrow, the Mugwort, the Thistle, the Knotweed, Plantain, the Stem of the Bracken Fern, Four-leaved and Two-leaved Clover, Even Ash-leaves, Bay or Bay-leaves, Laurel-leaves, Apples and Apple-pips, Nuts, Onions, Beans, Peascods, Corn, Maize, Hemp-seed, &c.

Albertus Magnus states that Valeria yields a certain juice of amity, efficacious in restoring peace between combatants; and that the herb Provinsa induces harmony between husband and wife. Gerarde, in his ‘Herbal,’ mentions a plant, called Concordia, which he says is Argentina, or Silver-weed (Potentilla anserina); and in Piedmont, at the present time, there grows a plant (Palma Christi), locally known as Concordia, which the peasantry use for matrimonial divinations. The root of the plant is said to be divided into two parts, each bearing a resemblance to the human hand, with five fingers: if these hands are found united, marriage is sure; but if separated, a rupture between the lovers is presaged. There is also, in Italy, a plant known as Discordia, likewise employed for love divinations. In this plant the male flowers are violet, the female white; the male and female flowers blossom almost always the one after the other—the male turns to the East, the female to the West.

In the Ukraine, there grows a plant called there Prikrit, which, if gathered between August 15th and October 1st, has the property of destroying calumnies spread abroad in order to hinder marriages. In England, the Baccharis, or Ploughman’s Spikenard, is reputed to be able to repel calumny. In Russia, a plant called Certagon, the Devil-chaser, is used to exorcise the devil, who is supposed to haunt the grief-stricken husband or wife whom death has robbed of the loved one. This grief-charming plant is also used to drive away fear from infants. The Sallow has many magical properties: no child can be born in safety where it is hung, and no spirit can depart in peace if its foliage be anywhere near.

The Zuñis, a tribe of Mexican Indians, hold in high veneration a certain magical plant called Té-na-tsa-li, which they aver grows only on one mountain in the West, and which produces flowers of many colours, the most beautiful in the world, whilst its roots and juices are a panacea for all injuries to the flesh of man.

The Indian Tulasi, or Sacred Basil (Ocimum sanctum) is pre-eminently a magical herb. By the Hindus it is regarded as a plant of the utmost sanctity, which protects those that cultivate it from all misfortunes, guards them from diseases and injuries, and ensures healthy children. In Burmah, the Eugenia is endowed with similar magical properties, and is regarded by the Burmese with especial reverence.

The Onion, if suspended in a room, possesses the magical powers of attracting and absorbing maladies that would otherwise attack the inmates.

In Peru, there is said to grow a wonderful tree called Theomat. If a branch be placed in the hand of a sick person, and he forthwith shows gladness, it is a sign that he will at length recover; but if he shows sadness and no sign of joy, that is held to be a certain sign of approaching death.

In England, the withering of Bay-leaves has long been considered ominous of death: thus Shakspeare writes—

“’Tis thought the King is dead; we will not stay.
The Bay-trees in our country are all withered.”

The smoke of the green branches of the Juniper was the incense offered by the ancients to the infernal deities, whilst its berries were burnt at funerals to keep off evil spirits.

The Peony drives away tempests and dispels enchantments. The St. John’s Wort (called of old Fuga dæmonum) is a preservative against tempests, thunder, and evil spirits, and possesses other magical properties which are duly enumerated in another place.

The Rowan-tree of all others is gifted with the powers of magic, and is held to be a charm against the Evil Eye, witchcraft, and unholy spells. The Elder, the Thorn, the Hazel, and the Holly, in a similar manner, possess certain properties which entitle them to be classed as magical plants. Garlic is employed by the Greeks, Turks, Chinese, and Japanese, as a safeguard against the dire influences of the Evil Eye.

The extraordinary attributes of the Fern-seed are duly enumerated in Part II., under the head of Fern, and can be there studied by all who are desirous of investigating its magic powers.

The Clover, if it has four leaves, is a magical plant, enabling him who carries it on his person to be successful at play, and have the power of detecting the approach of malignant spirits. If placed in the shoe of a lover, the four-leaved Clover will ensure his safe return to the arms and embraces of his sweetheart.

The Mandrake is one of the most celebrated of magical plants, but for an enumeration of its manifold mystic powers readers must be referred to the description given in Part II., under the head of Mandrake. This plant was formerly called Circeium, a name derived from Circe, the celebrated enchantress. The Germans call it Zauberwurzel (Sorcerer’s root), and the young peasant girls of the Fatherland often wear bits of the plant as love charms.

The marshes of China are said to produce a certain fruit which the natives call Peci. If any one puts with this fruit a copper coin into his mouth, he can diminish it with no less certainty than the fruit itself, and reduce it to an eatable pulp.

In France, Piedmont, and Switzerland, the country-people tell of a certain Herb of Oblivion which produces loss of memory in anyone putting his foot upon it. This herb also causes wayfarers to lose their way, through the unfortunates forgetting the aspects of the country, even although they were quite familiar to them before treading on the Herb of Forgetfulness. Of a somewhat similar nature must have been the fruit of the Lotos-tree, which caused the heroes of the Odyssey to forget their native country.

King Solomon, whose books on Magic King Hezekiah destroyed lest their contents should do harm, ascribed great magical powers to a root which he called Baharas (or Baara). Josephus, in his History of the Jewish Wars, states that this wonderful root is to be found in the region of Judæa. It is like a flame in colour, and in the evening appears like a glittering light; but upon anyone approaching it with the idea of pulling it up, it appears to fly or dart away, and will avoid its pursuer until it be sprinkled either with menstrual blood or lotium femininum.

> “The Mandrake’s charnel leaves at night”

possess the same characteristic of shining through the gloom, and, on that account, the Arabians call it the Devil’s Candle.

The ancients knew a certain herb called Nyctilopa, which had the property of shining from afar at night: this same herb was also known as Nyctegredum or Chenomychon, and geese were so averse to it, that upon first spying it they would take to instant flight. Perhaps this is the same plant as the Johanniswurzel or Springwort (Euphorbia lathyris), which the peasants of Oberpfalz believe can only be found among the Fern on St. John’s Night, and which is stated to be of a yellow colour, and to shine at night as brightly as a candle. Like the Will-o’-the-Wisp, the Johanniswurzel eludes the grasp of man by darting and frisking about.

Several plants are credited with possessing the power of preservation from thunder and lightning. Pliny mentions the Vibro, which he calls Herba Britannica, as a plant which, if picked before the first thunderblast of a storm was heard, was deemed a safeguard against lightning. In the Netherlands, the St. John’s Wort, gathered before sunrise, is credited with protective powers against lightning. In Westphalia, the Donnerkraut (the English Orpine, or Live-long) is kept in houses as a preservative from thunder. In England, the Bay is considered a protection from lightning and thunder; the Beech was long thought to be a safeguard against the effects of lightning; and Houseleek or Stonecrop, if grown upon a roof, is still regarded as protecting the house from being struck by lightning. The Gnaphalium, an Everlasting-flower, is gathered on the Continent, on Ascension Day, and suspended over doorways, to fulfil the same function. In Wales, the Stonecrop is cultivated on the roof to keep off disease.

The Selago, or Golden Herb of the Druids, imparted to the priestess who pressed it with her foot, the knowledge of the language of animals and birds. If she touched it with iron, the sky grew dark, and a misfortune befell the world.

The old magicians were supposed to have been acquainted with certain plants and herbs from which gold could be extracted or produced. One of these was the Sorb-tree, which was particularly esteemed for its invaluable powers; another was a herb on Mount Libanus, which was said to communicate a golden hue to the teeth of the goats and other animals that grazed upon it. Niebuhr thinks this may be the herb which the Eastern alchymists employed as a means of making gold. Father Dundini noticed that the animals living on Mount Ida ate a certain herb that imparted a golden hue to the teeth, and which he considered proceeded from the mines underground. It was an old belief in Germany, by the shores of the Danube, and in Hungary, that the tendrils and leaves of the Vines were plated with gold at certain periods, and that when this was the case, it was a sure sign that gold lay hidden somewhere near.

Plutarch speaks of a magical herb called Zaclon, which, when bruised and thrown into wine, would at once change it into water.

Some few plants, like the well-known Sesame of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ are credited with the power of opening doors and obtaining an entry into subterranean caverns and mountain sides. In Germany, there is a very favourite legend of a certain blue Luck-flower which gains for its fortunate finder access to the hidden recesses of a mountain, where untold riches lie heaped before his astonished eyes. Hastily filling his pockets with gold, silver, and gems, he heeds not the presence of a dwarf or Fairy, who, as he unknowingly drops the Luck-flower whilst leaving the treasure-house, cries “Forget not the best of all.” Thinking only of the wealth he has pocketed, he unheedingly passes through the portal of the treasure cave, only just in time to save himself from being crushed by the descending door, which closes with an ominous clang, and shuts in for ever the Luck-flower, which can alone open the cave again.

In Russia, a certain herb, which has the power of opening, is known as the Rasriv-trava. The peasants recognise it in this manner: they cut a good deal of grass about the spot where the Rasriv-trava is thought to grow, and throw the whole of it into the river; thereupon this magic plant will not only remain on the surface of the water, but it will float against the current. The herb, however, is extraordinarily rare, and can only be found by one who also possesses the herb Plakun and the Fern Paporotnik. The Fern, like the Hazel, discovers treasures, and therefore possesses the power of opening said to belong to the Rasriv-trava, but the latter is the only plant that can open the locks of subterranean entrances to the infernal regions, which are always guarded by demons. It also has the special property of being able to reduce to powder any metal whatsoever.

The Primrose is in Germany regarded as a Schlüsselblume, or Key-flower, and is supposed to provide the means of obtaining ingress to the many legendary treasure-caverns and subterranean passages under hill and mountain sides dating back from the remote times when the Goddess Bertha was wont to entice children to enter her enchanted halls by offering them pale Primroses.

The Mistletoe, in addition to its miraculous medicinal virtues, possesses the power of opening all locks; and a similar property is by some ascribed to Artemisia, the Mandrake, and the Vervain.

The Moonwort, or Lesser Lunary (Botrychium Lunaria)—the Martagon of ancient wizards, the Lunaria minor of the alchymists—will open the locks of doors if placed in proper fashion in the keyhole. It is, according to some authorities, the Sferracavallo of the Italians, and is gifted with the power of unshoeing horses whilst at pasture.

Grimm is of opinion that the Sferracavallo is the Euphorbia lathyris, the mystic Spring-wort, which, like the Luck-flower, possesses the wondrous power of opening hidden doors, rocks, and secret entrances to treasure caves, but which is only to be obtained through the medium of a green or black woodpecker under conditions which will be found duly recorded in Part II., under the head of Springwort.

The Mouse-ear is called Herba clavorum because it prevents the blacksmith from hurting horses when he is shoeing them.

#### Magic Wands and Divining Rods.

At so remote a period as the Vedic age we find allusions to magic wands or rods. In the Vedas, the Hindu finds instructions for cutting the mystic Sami branch and the Arani. This operation was to be performed so that the Eastern and Western sun shone through the fork of the rod, or it would prove of no avail. The Chinese still abide by these venerable instructions in the cutting of their magic wands, which are usually cut from the Peach or some other fruit tree on the night preceding the new year, which always commences with the first new moon after the Winter solstice. The employment of magic wands and staffs was in vogue among the Chaldæans and Egyptians, who imparted the knowledge of this system of divination to the Hebrews dwelling among them. Thus we find the prophet Hosea saying, “My people ask counsel at their stocks, and their staff declareth unto them.” Rhabdomancy, or divination by means of a rod, was practised by the ancient Greeks and Romans, and the art was known in England at the time of Agricola, though now it is almost forgotten. In China and Eastern lands, the art still flourishes, and various kinds of plants and trees are employed; the principal being, however, the Hazel, Osier, and Blackthorn. The Druids were accustomed to cut their divining-rods from the Apple-tree. In competent hands, the Golden Rod is said to point to hidden springs of water, as well as to hidden treasures of gold and silver.

“Some sorcerers do boast they have a rod,
Gathered with vows and sacrifice,
That, borne aloft, will strangely nod
To hidden treasure where it lies.”—Shepherd (1600).

In Cornwall, the divining-rod is still employed by miners to discover the presence of mineral wealth; in Lancashire and Cumberland, the belief in the powers of the magic wand is widely spread; and in Wiltshire, it is used for detecting water. The Virgula divinatoria is also frequently in requisition both in Italy and France. Experts will tell you that, in order to ensure success, certain mystic rites must be performed at the cutting of the rod: this must be done after sunset and before sunrise, and only on certain special nights, among which are those of Good Friday, Epiphany, Shrove-Tuesday, and St. John’s Day, the first night of a new moon, or that preceding it. In cutting the divining-rod, the operator must face the East, so that it shall be one which catches the first rays of the morning sun, or it will be valueless. These conditions, it will be found, are similar to those contained in the Hindu Vedas, and still enforced by the Chinese. Some English experts are of opinion that a twig of an Apple-tree may be used as successfully as a Hazel wand—but it must be of twelve months’ growth. The seventh son of a seventh son is considered to be the most fitting person to use the rod. In operating, the small ends, being crooked, are to be held in the hands in a position flat or parallel to the horizon, and the upper part at an elevation having an angle to it of about seventy degrees. The rod must be grasped strongly and steadily, and then the operator walks over the ground: when he crosses a lode, its bending is supposed to indicate the presence thereof. According to Vallemont, the author of a treatise on the divining-rod, published towards the end of the seventeenth century, its use was not merely confined to indicate metal or water, but it was also employed in tracking criminals; and an extraordinary story is told of a Frenchman who, guided by his rod, “pursued a murderer, by land, for a distance exceeding forty-five leagues, besides thirty leagues more by water.”

From an article in the ‘Quarterly Review,’ No. 44, the statements in which were vouched by the Editor, it would seem that a Lady Noel possessed the faculty of using the divining-rod. In operating, this lady “took a thin forked Hazel-twig, about sixteen inches long, and held it by the end, the joint pointing downwards. When she came to the place where the water was under the ground, the twig immediately bent; and the motion was more or less rapid as she approached or withdrew from the spring. When just over it, the twig turned so quick as to snap, breaking near the fingers, which, by pressing it, were indented and heated, and almost blistered; a degree of agitation was also visible in her face. The exercise of the faculty is independent of any volition.”

In Germany, the divining-rod is often called the wishing-rod, and as it is by preference cut from the Blackthorn, that tree is known also as the Wishing Thorn. In Prussia, the Hazel rod must be cut in Spring to have its magical qualities thoroughly developed. When the first thunderstorm is seen to be approaching, a cross is made with the rod over every heap of grain, in order that the Corn so distinguished may keep good for many a month. In Bohemia, the magic rod is thought to cure fever; it is necessary, however, when purchasing one, not to raise an objection to the price. In Ireland, if anyone dreams of buried money, there is a prescribed formula to be employed when digging for it—a portion of which is the marking upon a Hazel wand three crosses, and the recital of certain words, of a blasphemous character, over it.

Sir Thomas Browne tells us that, in his time, the divining-rod was called Moses’ Rod; and he thinks, with Agricola, that this rod is of Pagan origin:—“The ground whereof were the magical rods in poets, that of Pallas in Homer, that of Mercury that charmed Argus, and that of Circe which transformed the followers of Ulysses. Too boldly usurping the name of Moses’ Rod, from which notwithstanding, and that of Aaron, were probably occasioned the fables of all the rest. For that of Moses must needs be famous, unto the Egyptians, and that of Aaron unto many other nations as being preserved in the Ark until the destruction of the Temple built by Solomon.” The Rabbis tell us that the rod of Moses was, originally, carved by Adam out of a tree which grew in the Garden of Eden; that Noah, who took it into the Ark with him, bequeathed it to Shem; that it descended to Abraham; that Isaac gave it to Jacob; that, during his sojourn in Egypt, he gave it to Joseph; and that finally it became the property of Moses.

### CHAPTER XI.
Fabulous, Wondrous, and Miraculous Plants.

We have seen how, among the ancient races of the earth, traditions existed which connected the origin of man with certain trees. In the Bundehesh, man is represented as having first appeared on earth under the form of the plant Reiva (Rheum ribes). In the Iranian account of man’s creation, the primal couple are stated to have first grown up as a single tree, and at maturity to have been separated and endowed with a distinct existence by Ormuzd. In the Scandinavian Edda, men are represented as having sprung from the Ash and Poplar. The Greeks traced the origin of the human race to the maternal Ash; and the Romans regarded the Oak as the progenitor of all mankind. The conception of human trees was present in the mind of the Prophet Isaiah, when he predicted that from the stem of Jesse should come forth a rod, and from his roots, a branch. The same idea is preserved in the genealogical trees of modern heraldry; and the marked analogy between man and trees has doubtless given rise to the custom of planting trees at the birth of children. The old Romans were wont to plant a tree at the birth of a son, and to judge of the prosperity of the child by the growth and thriving of the tree. It is said in the life of Virgil, that the Poplar planted at his birth flourished exceedingly, and far outstripped all its contemporaries. De Gubernatis records that, as a rule, in Germany, they plant Apple-trees for boys, and Pear-trees for girls. In Polynesia, at the birth of an infant, a Cocoa-nut tree is planted, the nodes of which are supposed to indicate the number of years promised to the little stranger.

According to a legend that Hamilton found current in Central India, the Khatties had this strange origin. When the five sons of Pându (the heroes whose exploits are told in the Mahâbhârata) had become simple tenders of flocks, Karna, their illegitimate brother, wishing to deprive them of these their last resource, prayed the gods to assist him: then he struck the earth with his staff, which was fashioned from the branch of a tree. The staff instantly opened, and out of it sprang a man, who said that his name was Khat, a word which signifies “begotten of wood.” Karna employed this tree-man to steal the coveted cattle, and the Khatties claim to be descended from this strange forefather.

The traditions of trees that brought forth human beings, and of trees that were in themselves partly human, are current among most of the Aryan and Semitic races, and are also to be found among the Sioux Indians. These traditions (which have been previously noticed in Chapter VII.) have probably given rise to others, which represent certain trees as bearing for fruit human beings and the members of human beings.

In the fourteenth century, an Italian voyager, Odoricus du Frioul, on arriving at Malabar, heard the natives speaking of trees which, instead of fruit, bore men and women: these creatures were scarcely a yard high, and their nether extremities were attached to the tree’s trunk, like branches. Their bodies were fresh and radiant when the wind blew, but on its dropping, they became gradually withered and dried up.

In the first book of the Mahâbhârata, reference is made, in the legend of Garuda, to an enormous Indian Fig-tree (Ficus religiosa), from the branches of which are suspended certain devotees of dwarfed proportions, called Vâlakhilyas.

Among the Arabs, there exists a tradition of an island in the Southern Ocean called Wak-Wak, which is so-named because certain trees growing thereon produce fruit having the form of a human head, which cries Wak! Wak!

Among the Chinese, the myth of men being descended from trees is reversed, for we find a legend current in the Flowery Land that, in the beginning, the herbs and plants sprang from the hairs of a cosmic giant.

The Chinese, however, preserve the tradition of a certain lake by whose margin grew great quantities of trees, the leaves of which when developed became changed into birds. In India, similar trees are referred to in many of the popular tales: thus, in “The Rose of Bakavali” mention is made of a garden of Pomegranate-trees, the fruit of which resembled earthenware vases. When these were plucked and opened, out hopped birds of beautiful plumage, which immediately flew away.

Pope Pius II., in his work on Asia and Europe, published towards the end of the fifteenth century, states that in Scotland there grew on the banks of a river a tree which produced fruits resembling ducks; these fruits, when matured, fell either on the river bank or into the water: those which fell on the ground perished instantly; those which fell into the water became turned at once into ducks, acquired plumage, and then flew off. His Holiness remarks that he had been unable to obtain any proof of this wondrous tree existing in Scotland, but that it was to be found growing in the Orkney Isles.

As early as the thirteenth century, Albertus Magnus expressed his disbelief in the stories of birds propagated from trees, yet there were not wanting writers who professed to have been eye-witnesses of the marvels they recounted respecting Bernicle or Claik Geese. Some of these witnesses, however, asserted that the birds grew on living trees, while others traced them to timber rotted in the sea, or boughs of trees which had fallen therein. Boëce, who favoured the latter theory, writes that “because the rude and ignorant people saw oft-times the fruit that fell off the trees (which stood near the sea) converted within a short time into geese, they believed that yir-geese grew upon the trees, hanging by their nebbis [bills] such like as Apples and other fruits hangs by their stalks, but their opinion is nought to be sustained. For as soon as their Apples or fruit falls off the tree into the sea-flood, they grow first worm-eaten, and by short process of time are altered into geese.” Munster, in his ‘Cosmographie,’ remembers that in Scotland “are found trees which produce fruit rolled up in leaves, and this, in due time, falling into water, which it overhangs, is converted into a living bird, and hence the tree is called the Goose-tree. The same tree grows in the island of Pomona. Lest you should imagine that this is a fiction devised by modern writers, I may mention that all cosmographists, particularly Saxo Grammaticus, take notice of this tree.” Prof. Rennie says that Montbeillard seems inclined to derive the name of Pomona from its being the orchard of these goose-bearing trees. Fulgosus depicts the trees themselves as resembling Willows, “as those who had seen them in Ireland and Scotland” had informed him. To these particulars, Bauhin adds that, if the leaves of this tree fall upon the land, they become birds; but if into the water, then they are transmuted into fishes.

Maundevile speaks of the Barnacle-tree as a thing known and proved in his time. He tells us, in his book, that he narrated to the somewhat sceptical inhabitants of Caldilhe how that “in oure contre weren trees that beren a fruyt that becomen briddes fleiynge: and thei that fallen on the erthe dyen anon: and thei ben right gode to mannes mete.”

Aldrovandus gives a woodcut of these trees, in which the foliage resembles that of Myrtles, while the strange fruit is large and heart-shaped.

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The Barnacle or Goose Tree.
From ‘Aldrovandi Ornithologia.’

Gerarde also gives a figure of what he calls the “Goose-tree, Barnacle-tree, or the tree bearing geese,” a reproduction of which is annexed. And although he speaks of the goose as springing from decayed wood, &c., the very fact of his introducing the tree into the catalogue of his ‘Herbal,’ shows that he was, at least, divided between the above-named opinions. “What our eyes have seen,” he says, “and what our hands have touched, we shall declare. There is a small island in Lancashire, called the Pile of Foulders, wherein are found broken pieces of old ships, some whereof have been thrown thither by shipwracke, and also the trunks and bodies, with the branches of old and rotten trees cast up there likewise; whereon is found a certain spume or froth, that in time breedeth unto certaine shells, in shape like to those of the muskle, but sharper pointed, and of a whitish colour, wherein is contained a thing in forme like a lace of silke finely woven, as it were, together, of a whitish colour; one end whereof is fastned unto the inside of the shell, even as the fish of oisters and muskles are; the other end is made fast unto the belly of a rude mass, or lumpe, which, in time, commeth to the shape and forme of a bird. When it is perfectly formed, the shell gapeth open, and the first thing that appeareth is the foresaid lace or string; next come the legs of the bird hanging out, and as it groweth greater it openeth the shell by degrees, till at length it is all come forth, and hangeth onely by the bill; in short space after it commeth to full maturitie, and falleth into the sea, where it gathereth feathers, and groweth to a fowle bigger than a mallard and lesser than a goose, having blacke legs and bill or beake, and feathers blacke and white, spotted in such manner as is our magpie; called in some places a pie-annet, which the people of Lancashire call by no other name than tree-goose; which place aforesaid, and all those parts adjoyning, do so much abound therewith, that one of the best is bought for threepence. For the truth hereof, if any doubt, may it please them to repaire unto me, and I shall satisfie them by the testimonie of good witnesses.

The Goose Tree. From Gerarde’s Herbal.

Martin assures us that he had seen many of these fowls in the shells, sticking to the trees by the bill, but acknowledges that he had never descried any of them with life upon the tree, though the natives [of the Orkney Isles] had seen them move in the heat of the sun.

In the ‘Cosmographiæ of Albioun,’ Boëce (to whom we have before referred) considered the nature of the seas acting on old wood more relevant to the creation of barnacle or claik geese than anything else. “For,” he says, “all trees that are cassin into the seas, by process of time appears at first worm-eaten, and in the small holes or bores thereof grows small worms. First they show their head and neck, and last of all they show their feet and wings. Finally, when they are come to the just measure and quantity of geese, they fly in the air, as other fowls wont, as was notably proven in the year of God one thousand four hundred and eighty in the sight of many people beside the castle of Pitslego.” He then goes on to describe how a tree having been cast up by the sea, and split by saws, was found full of these geese, in different stages of their growth, some being “perfect shapen fowls;” and how the people, “having ylk day this tree in more admiration,” at length deposited it in the kirk of St. Andrew’s, near Tyre.”

Among the more uninformed of the Scotch peasantry, there still exists a belief that the Soland goose, or gannet, and not the bernicle, grows by the bill on the cliffs of Bass, of Ailsa, and of St. Kilda.

Giraldus traces the origin of these birds to the gelatinous drops of turpentine which appear on the branches of Fir-trees.

“A tree that bears oysters is a very extraordinary thing,” remarks Bishop Fleetwood in his ‘Curiosities of Agriculture and Gardening’ (1707), “but the Dominican Du Tertre, in his Natural History of Antego, assures us that he saw, at Guadaloupa, oysters growing on the branches of trees. These are his very words. The oysters are not larger than the little English oysters, that is to say, about the size of a crown piece. They stick to the branches that hang in the water of a tree called Paretuvier. No doubt the seed of the oysters, which is shed in the tree when they spawn, cleaves to those branches, so that the oysters form themselves there, and grow bigger in process of time, and by their weight bend down the branches into the sea, and then are refreshed twice a day by the flux and reflux of it.”

The Oyster-bearing Tree, however, is not the only marvel of which the good Bishop has left a record: he tells us that near the island Cimbalon there lies another, where grows a tree whose leaves, as they fall off, change into animals: they are no sooner on the ground, than they begin to walk like a hen, upon two little legs. Pigafetta says that he kept one of these leaves eight days in a porringer; that it took itself to walking as soon as he touched it; and that it lived only upon the air. Scaliger, speaking of these very leaves, remarks, as though he had been an eye-witness, that they walk, and march away without further ado if anyone attempts to touch them. Bauhin, after describing these wonderful leaves as being very like Mulberry-leaves, but with two short and pointed feet on each side, remarks upon the great prodigy of the leaf of a tree being changed into an animal, obtaining sense, and being capable of progressive motion.

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The Barometz, or Vegetable Lamb.
From Zahn’s ‘Speculæ Physico-Mathematico-Historicæ.’

Kircher records that in his time a tree was said to exist in Chili, the leaves of which produced worms; upon arriving at maturity, these worms crawled to the edge of the leaf, and thence fell to the earth, where after a time they became changed into serpents, which over-ran the whole land. Kircher endeavours to explain this story of the serpent-bearing tree by giving, as a reason for the phenomenon, that the tree attached to itself, through its roots, moisture pregnant with the seed of serpents. Through the action of the sun’s rays, and the moisture of the tree, this serpent-spawn degenerates into worms, which by contact with the earth become converted into living serpents.

The same authority states that in the Molucca islands, but more particularly in Ternate, not far from the castle of the same name, there grew a plant which he describes as having small leaves. To this plant the natives gave the name of Catopa, because when its leaves fall off they at once become changed into butterflies.

Doctor Darwin, in his botanical poem called ‘The Loves of the Plants,’ thus apostrophises an extraordinary animal-bearing plant:—

“Cradled in snow and fanned by Arctic air,
Shines, gentle Barometz! thy golden hair;
Rooted in earth, each cloven hoof descends,
And round and round her flexile neck she bends;
Crops the gray coral-moss and hoary Thyme,
Or laps with rosy tongue the melting rime,
Eyes with mute tenderness her distant dam,
Or seems to bleat, a vegetable Lamb.”

In the curious frontispiece to Parkinson’s ‘Paradisus,’ which will be found reproduced at the commencement of this work, it will be noticed that the Barometz, or Vegetable Lamb, is represented as one of the plants growing in Eden. In Zahn’s Speculæ Physico-Mathematico-Historicæ (1696) is given a figure of this plant, accompanied by a description, of which the following is a translation:—

“Very wonderful is the Tartarian shrub or plant which the natives call Boromez, i.e., Lamb. It grows like a lamb to about the height of three feet. It resembles a lamb in feet, in hoofs, in ears, and in the whole head, save the horns. For horns, it possesses tufts of hair, resembling a horn in appearance. It is covered with the thinnest bark, which is taken off and used by the inhabitants for the protection of their heads. They say that the inner pulp resembles lobster-flesh, and that blood flows from it when it is wounded. Its root projects and rises to the umbilicus. What renders the wonder more remarkable is the fact that, when the Boromez is surrounded by abundant herbage, it lives as long as a lamb, in pleasant pastures; but when they become exhausted, it wastes away and perishes. It is said that wolves have a liking for it, while other carnivorous animals have not.”

Scaliger, in his Exotericæ Exercitationes, gives a similar description, adding that it is not the fruit, the Melon, but the whole plant, that resembles a lamb. This does not tally with the account given by Odorico da Pordenone, an Indian traveller, who, before the Barometz had been heard of in Europe, appears to have been informed that a plant grew on some island in the Caspian Sea which bore Melon-like fruit resembling a lamb; and this tree is described and figured by Sir John Maundevile, who, in speaking of the countries and isles beyond Cathay, says that when travelling towards Bacharye “men passen be a Kyngdom that men clepen Caldilhe; that is a fulle fair Contree. And there growethe a maner of fruyt as thoughe it waren Gowrdes; and whan thei ben rype, men kutten hem a to, and men fynden with inne, a lytylle Best, in flessche, in bon, and blode, as though it were a lytylle Lomb, with outen wolle. And men eten bothe the Frut and the Best; and that is a gret marveylle. Of that Frute I have eten; alle thoughe it were wonderfulle; but that I knowe wel that God is marveyllous in his werkes.”

The Lamb Tree. From Maundevile’s Travels.

Maundevile, who in his book has left a record of so many marvellous things which he either saw or was told of during his Eastern travels, mentions a certain Indian island in the land of Prester John, where grew wild trees which produced Apples of such potent virtue that the islanders lived by the mere smell of them: moreover if they went on a journey, the men “beren the Apples with hem: for yif thei hadde lost the savour of the Apples thei scholde dyen anon.” In another island in the same country, Sir John was told were the Trees of the Sun and of the Moon that spake to King Alexander, and warned him of his death. Moreover, it was commonly reported that “the folk that kepen the trees, and eten of the frute and of the bawme that growethe there, lyven wel 400 yere or 500 yere, be vertue of the fruit and of the bawme.” In Egypt the old traveller heard of the Apple-tree of Adam, “that hav a byte at on of the sydes;” there also he saw Pharaoh’s Figs, which grew upon trees without leaves; and there also he tells us are gardens that have trees and herbs in them which bear fruit seven times in the year.

One of the most celebrated of fabulous trees is that which grew in the garden of the Hesperides, and produced the golden Apples which Hercules, with the assistance of Atlas, was able to carry off. Another classic tree is that bearing the golden branch of Virgil, which is by some identified with the Mistletoe. Among other celebrated mythical trees may be named the prophetic Oaks of the Dodonæan grove; the Singing Tree of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ every leaf of which was a mouth and joined in concert; and the Poet’s Tree referred to by Moore, in ‘Lalla Rookh,’ which grows over the tomb of Tan-Sein, a musician of incomparable skill at the court of Akbar, and of which it is said that whoever chews a leaf will have extraordinary melody of voice.

#### Wondrous Plants.

In Bishop Fleetwood’s curious work, to which reference has already been made, we find many extraordinary trees and plants described, some of which are perhaps worthy of a brief notice. He tells us of a wonderful metal-sapped tree known as the Mesonsidereos, which grows in Java, and even there is very scarce. Instead of pith, this tree has an iron wire that comes out of the root, and rises to the top of the tree. “But the best of all is, that whoever carries about him a piece of this ferruginous pith is invulnerable to any sword or iron whatever.” In Hirnaim de Typho this tree is said to produce fruit impenetrable by iron.

There are some trees that must have fire to nourish them. Methodius states that he saw on the top of the mountain Gheschidago (the Olympus of the ancients), near the city of Bursa, in Natolia, a lofty tree, whose roots were spread amidst the fire that issues from the vents of the earth; but whose leafy and luxuriant boughs spread their shade around, in scorn of the flames in the midst of which it grew.

This vegetable salamander finds its equal in a plant described by Nieuhoff as growing in rocky and stony places in the kingdom of Tanju, in Tartary. This extraordinary plant cannot be either ignited or consumed by fire; for although it becomes hot, and on account of the heat becomes glowing red in the fire, yet so soon as heat is removed, it grows cold, and regains its former appearance: in water, however, this plant is wont to become quite putrid.

Of a nature somewhat akin to these fire-loving plants must be the Japanese Palm, described by A. Montanus. This tree is said to shun moisture to such an extent, that if its trunk be in the least wet, it at once pines away and perishes as though it had been poisoned. However, if this arid tree be taken up by the roots, throughly dried in the sun, and re-planted with sand and iron filings around it, it will once more flourish, and become covered with new branches and leaves, provided that so soon as it has been re-planted, the old leaves are cut off with an iron instrument and fastened to the trunk.

The Bishop remarks that “one of the most wonderful plants is that which so mollifies the bones, that when we have eaten of it we cannot stand upon our legs. An ox who has tasted of it cannot go; his bones grow so pliant, that you may bend his legs like a twig of Ozier. The remedy is to make him swallow some of the bones of an animal who died from eating of that herb: ’tis certain death, and cannot be otherwise, for the teeth grow soft immediately, and ’tis impossible even to eat again.” “There is a plant that produces a totally opposite effect. It hardens the bones to a wondrous degree. A man who has chewed some of it, will have his teeth so hard as to be able to reduce flints and pebbles into impalpable powder.”

Maundevile describes some wonderful Balm-trees that in his time grew near Cairo, in a field wherein were seven wells “that oure Lord Jesu Christ made with on of His feet, whan He wente to pleyen with other children.” The balm obtained from these trees was considered so precious, that no one but the appointed tenders was allowed to approach them. Christians alone were permitted to till the ground in which they grew, as if Saracens were employed, the trees would not yield; and moreover it was necessary that men should “kutten the braunches with a scharp flyntston or with a scharp bon, whanne men wil go to kutte hem: For who so kutte hem with iren, it wolde destroye his vertue and his nature.”

The old knight has left a record of his impressions of the country near the shores of the Dead Sea, and has given a sketch of those Apple-trees of which Byron wrote—

“Like to the Apples on the Dead Sea’s shore,
All ashes to the taste.”

These trees producing Dead Sea fruit he tells us bore “fulle faire Apples, and faire of colour to behold; but whoso brekethe hem or cuttethe hem in two, he schalle fynd with in hem Coles and Cyndres, in tokene that, be wratthe of God, the cytees and the lond weren brente and sonken in to Helle.”

Dead Sea Fruit. From Maundevile’s Travels.

In Zahn’s Speculæ Physico-Mathematico-Historicæ we read of a peculiar Mexican tree, called Tetlatia or Gao, which causes both men and animals to lose their hair if they rub themselves against its trunk or sleep beneath its branches. Then we are told of a tree growing in Sofala, Africa, which yields no leaf during the whole year, but if a branch be cut off and placed in water, it grows green in ten hours, and produces abundance of leaves. Again, we read of the Zeibas, immense trees “in the new Kingdom of Granada,” which fifteen men could scarcely encompass with their arms; and which, wonderful to relate, cast all their leaves every twelve hours, and soon afterwards acquire other leaves in their place.

A certain tree is described as growing in America, which bears flowers like a heart, consisting of many white leaves, which are red within, and give forth a wonderfully sweet fragrance: these flowers are said to comfort and refresh the heart in a remarkable manner. A curious account is given of a plant, which Nierenbergius states grows in Bengal, which attracts wood so forcibly, that it apparently seizes it from the hands of men. A similar plant is said to exist in the island of Zeilan, which, if placed between two pieces of wood, each distant twenty paces from it, will draw them together and unite them.

Respecting the Boriza, a plant also known as the Lunaria or Lunar Herb, Zahn states that it is so called because it increases and decreases according to the changes of the moon: for when the moon is one day old, this plant has one leaf, and increases the number of leaves in proportion to the moon’s age until it is fifteen days old; then, as the moon decreases, its leaves one by one fall off. In the no-moon period, being deprived of all its leaves, it hides itself. Just as the Boriza is influenced by the moon, so are certain shrubs under the sway of the sun. These shrubs are described as growing up daily from the sand until noon, when they gradually diminish, and finally return to the earth at sunset.

Gerarde tells us that among the wonders of England, worthy of great admiration, is a kind of wood, called Stony Wood, alterable into the hardness of a stone by the action of water. This strange alteration of Nature, he adds, is to be seen in sundry parts of England and Wales; and then he relates how he himself “being at Rougby (about such time as our fantasticke people did with great concourse and multitudes repaire and run headlong unto the sacred wells of Newnam Regis, in the edge of Warwickshire, as unto the water of life, which could cure all diseases),” went from thence unto these wells, “where I found growing ouer the same a faire Ashe-tree, whose boughs did hang ouer the spring of water, whereof some that were seare and rotten, and some that of purpose were broken off, fell into the water and were all turned into stones. Of these boughes or parts of the tree I brought into London, which when I had broken in pieces, therein might be seene that the pith and all the rest was turned into stones, still remaining the same shape and fashion that they were of before they were in the water.”

The Stone Tree. From Gerarde’s Herbal.

In Hainam, a Chinese island, grows a certain tree known as the Fig of Paradise. Its growth is peculiar: from the centre of a cluster of six or seven leaves springs a branch with no leaves, but a profusion of fruit resembling Figs. The leaves of this tree are so large and so far apart, that a man could easily wrap himself up in them; hence it is supposed that our first parents, after losing their innocence, clothed themselves with the leaves of a tree of this species.

The island of Ferro, one of the Canaries, is said to be without rivers, fountains, and wells. However, it has a peculiar tree, as Metellus mentions, surrounded by walls like a fountain. It resembles the Nut-tree; and from its leaves there drops water which is drinkable by cattle and men. A certain courtesan of the island, when it was first subdued, made it known to the Spaniards. Her perfidy, however, is said to have been discovered and punished with death by her own people.

Bishop Fleetwood gives the following description, by Hermannus Nicolaus, of what he calls the Distillatory Plant:—“Great are the works of the Lord, says the wise man; we cannot consider them without ravishment. The Distillatory Plant is one of these prodigies of nature, which we cannot behold without being struck with admiration. And what most surprises me is the delicious nectar, with which it has often supplied me in so great abundance to refresh me when I was thirsty to death and unsufferably weary.... But the greatest wonder of it is the little purse, or if you will, a small vessel, as long and as big as the little finger, that is at the end of each leaf. It opens and shuts with a little lid that is fastened to the top of it. These little purses are full of a cool, sweet, clear cordial and very agreeable water. The kindness this liquor has done me when I have been parched up with thirst, makes me always think of it with pleasure. One plant yields enough to refresh and quench the thirst of a man who is very dry. The plant attracts by its roots the moisture of the earth, which the sun by his heat rarifies and raises up through the stem and the branches into the leaves, where it filtrates itself to drop into the little recipients that are at the end of them. This delicious sap remains in these little vessels till it be drawn out; and it must be observed that they continue close shut till the liquor be well concocted and digested, and open of themselves when the juice is good to drink. ’Tis of wonderful virtue to extinguish speedily the heats of burning fevers. Outwardly applied, it heals ring-worms, St. Anthony’s Fire, and inflammations.”

#### Plants Bearing Inscriptions and Figures.

Gerarde has told us that in the root of the Brake Fern, the figure of a spread-eagle may be traced; and Maundevile has asserted that the fruit of the Banana, cut it how you will, exhibits a representation of the Holy Cross. L. Sarius, in his Chronicles to the year 1559, records that, in Wales, an Ash was uprooted during a tempest, and in its massive trunk, rent asunder by the violence of the storm, a cross was plainly depicted, about a foot long. This cross remained for many years visible in the shattered trunk of the Ash, and was regarded with superstitious awe by the Catholics as having been Divinely sent to reprove the officious zeal of Queen Elizabeth in banishing sacred images from the Churches.

In Zahn’s work is an account—“resting on the sworn testimony of the worthiest men,” and on the authority of an archbishop—of the holy name Jesu found in a Beech that had been felled near Treves. The youth, who was engaged in chopping up this tree, observed while doing so, a cloud or film surrounding the pith of the wood. Astonished at the sight, he called his uncle Hermann, who noticed at once the sacred name in a yellow colour, changing to black. Hermann carried the wood home to his wife, who had long been an invalid, and she, regarding it as a precious relic, received much comfort, and finally, in answer to daily prayer, her strength was restored. After this, the wood was presented to the Elector Maximilian Henry, who was so struck with the phenomenon, that he had it placed in a rich silver covering, and publicly exposed as a sacred relic in a church; and on the spot where the tree was cut, he caused a chapel to be erected, to preserve the name of Jesu in everlasting remembrance.

In the same work, we are told that in a certain root, called Ophoides, a serpent is clearly represented; that the root of Astragalus depicts the stars; that in the trunk of the Quiacus, a dog’s head was found delineated, together with the perfect figure of a bird; that the trunk of a tree, when cut, displayed on its inner surface eight Danish words; that in a Beech cut down by a joiner, was found the marvellous representation of a thief hanging on a gibbet; and that in another piece of wood adhering to the former was depicted a ladder such as was used in those days by public executioners: these figures were distinctly delineated in a black tint. In 1628, in the wood of a fruit-tree that had been cut down near Haarlem, in Holland, the images of bishops, tortoises, and many other things were seen; and one Schefferus, a physician, has recorded that near the same place, a piece of wood was found in which there was given “a wonderful representation by Nature of a most orderly star with six rays.” Evelyn, in his ‘Sylva,’ speaks of a tree found in Holland, which, being cleft, exhibited the figures of a chalice, a priest’s alb, his stole, and several other pontifical vestments. Of this sort, he adds, was an Oxfordshire Elm, “a block of which wood being cleft, there came out a piece so exactly resembling a shoulder of veal, that it was worthy to be reckoned among the curiosities of this nature.” Evelyn also notices a certain dining-table made of an old Ash, whereon was figured in the wood fish, men, and beasts. In the root of a white Briony was discovered the perfect image of a human being: this curious root was preserved in the Museum at Bologna. Many examples of human figures in the roots of Mandrakes have been known, and Aldrovandus tell us that he was presented with a Mandrake-root, in which the image was perfect.

#### Vegetable Monstrosities.

It is related that, in the year 1670, there was exposed for sale, in the public market of Vratislavia, an extraordinary wild Bugloss, which, on account of the curiosity of the spectators and the different superstitious speculations of the crowd, was regarded not only as something monstrous but also as marvellous. This Bugloss was a little tortuous and 25 inches in length. Its breadth was 4 inches. It possessed a huge and very broad stem, the fibres of which ran parallel to each other in a direct line. It bore flowers in the greatest abundance, and had at least one root.

Aldrovandus, in his Liber de Monstris, describes Grapes with beards, which were seen in the year 1541 in Germany, in the province of Albersweiler. They were sent as a present, first to Louis, Duke of Bavaria, and then to King Ferdinand and other princes.

Zahn figures, in his work, a Pear of unusual size which was gathered from a tree growing in the Royal Garden at Stuttgart, towards the close of June, 1644. This Pear strongly resembled a human face, with the features distinctly delineated, and at the end, forming a sort of crown, were eight small leaves and two young shoots with a blossom at the apex of each. This curious and unique vegetable monstrosity was presented to his Serene Highness the Prince of Wurtemburg.

In the same book is given a description of a monstrous Rape—bearing a striking resemblance to the figure of a man seated, and exhibiting perfectly body, arms, and head, on which the sprouting foliage took the place of hair. This Rape grew in the garden of a nobleman in the province of Weiden, in the year 1628.

Mention is made of a Daucus which was planted and became unusually large in size. Some pronounced it to be a Parsnip, having a yellow root, and thin leaves. This Parsnip had an immense root, like a human hand, which, from its peculiar growth, had the appearance of grasping the Daucus itself.

In Zahn’s book are recorded many other vegetable marvels: amongst them is the case of a Reed growing in the belly of an elephant; a ear of Wheat in the nose of an Italian woman; Oats in the stomach of a soldier; and various grains found in wounds and ulcers, in different parts of the human body.

#### Miraculous Trees and Plants.

There are some few plants which have at different times been prominently brought into notice by their intimate association with miracles. Such a one was the branch of the Almond-tree forming the rod of Aaron, which, when placed by Moses in the Tabernacle, miraculously budded and blossomed in the night, as a sign that its owner should be chosen for High Priest. Such, again, was the staff of Joseph of Arimathea, which, when driven, one Christmas-day, into the ground at Glastonbury, took root and produced a Thorn-tree, which always blossomed on that day. Such, again, was the staff of St. Martin, from which sprang up a goodly Yew, in the cloister of Vreton, in Brittany; and such was the staff of St. Serf, which, thrown by him across the sea from Inchkeith to Culross, straightway took root and became an Apple-tree.

In the same category must be included the tree miraculously secured by St. Thomas, the apostle of the Indians, and from which he was enabled to construct a church, inasmuch as when the sawdust emitted by the tree when being sawn was sown, trees sprang up therefrom. The tree (represented as being a species of Kalpadruma) was hewn on the Peak of Adam, in Ceylon, by two servants of St. Thomas, and dragged by him into the sea, where he appears to have left it with the command, “Vade, expecta nos in portu civitatis Mirapolis.” ... When it reached its destination, this tree had grown to such an enormous bulk, that although the king and his army of ten thousand troops, with many elephants, did their utmost to secure it and drag it on shore, they were unable to move it. Mortified at his failure, the king descried the holy Apostle Thomas approaching, riding upon an ass. The holy Apostle was accompanied by his two servants, and by two great lions. “Forbear,” said he, addressing the king: “Touch not the wood, for it is mine.” “How can you prove it is yours?” enquired the king. Then Thomas, loosing his girdle, threw it to the two servants, and bade them tie it around the tree; this they speedily did, and, with the assistance of the lions, dragged the huge trunk ashore. The king was astonished and convinced by the miracle, and at once offered to Thomas as much land whereon to erect a church to his God as he cared to ride round on his ass. So with the aid of the miraculous tree the Apostle Thomas set to work to build his church. When his workmen were hungry he took some of the sawdust of the tree, and converted it into Rice; when they demanded payment, he broke off a small piece of the wood, which instantly became changed into money.

Popular tradition has everywhere preserved the remembrance of a certain Arbor secco, which, according to Marco Polo, Frate Odorico, and the Book of Sidrach, existed in the East. This Arbor secco of the Christians is the veritable Tree of the Sun of the ancient pagans. Marco Polo calls the tree the Withered Tree of the Sun, and places it in the confines of Persia; Odorico, near Sauris. According to Maundevile, the tree had existed at Mamre from the beginning of the world. It was an Oak, and had been held in special veneration since the time of Abraham. The Saracens called it Dirpe, and the people of the country, the Withered Tree, because from the date of the Passion of Our Lord, it has been withered, and will remain so until a Prince of the West shall come with the Christians to conquer the Holy Land: then “he shalle do synge a masse undir that dry tree, and than the tree shalle waxen grene and bere bothe fruyt and leves.” Fra Mauro, in his map of the world, represents the Withered Tree in the middle of Central Asia. It has been surmised that this Withered Tree is no other than that alluded to by the Prophet Ezekiel (xvii., 24): “And all the trees of the field shall know that I the Lord have brought down the high tree, have exalted the low tree, have dried up the green tree.”

Arbor Secco, or The Withered Tree. From Maundevile’s Travels.

Sulpicius Severus relates that an abbot, in order to test the patience of a novice, planted in the ground a branch of Styrax that he chanced to have in his hand, and commanded the Novice to water it every day with water to be obtained from the Nile, which was two miles from the monastery. For two years the novice obeyed his superior’s injunction faithfully, going every day to the banks of the river, and carrying back on his shoulder a supply of Nile water wherewith to water the apparently lifeless branch. At length, however, his steadfastness was rewarded, for in the third year the branch miraculously shot out very fine leaves, and afterwards produced flowers. The historian adds that he saw in the monastery some slips of the same tree, which they took delight to cultivate as a memento of what the Almighty had been pleased to do to reward the obedience of his servant.

Another miraculous tree is alluded to in Fleetwood’s ‘Curiosities,’ where, on the authority of Philostratus, the author describes a certain talking Elm of Ethiopia, which, during a discussion held under its branches between Apollonius and Thespesio, chief of the Gymnosophists, reverently “bowed itself down and saluted Apollonius, giving him the title of Wise, with a distinct but weak and shrill voice, like a woman.”

The blind man to whom our Saviour restored his sight said, at first, “I see men walking as if they were trees!” one Anastasius of Nice, however, has recorded that, oppositely, he had seen trees walk as if they were men. Bishop Fleetwood remarks that this Anastasius, being persuaded that by miraculous means our neighbours’ trees may be brought into our own field, relates that a heretic of Zizicum, of the sect of the Pneumatomachians, had, by the virtue of his art, brought near to his own house a great Olive-tree belonging to one of his neighbours, that he and his disciples might have the benefit of the freshness of the shade to protect them from the heat of the sun. By this art, also, it was that the plantation of Olives, belonging to Vectidius, changed its place.

Maundevile has preserved a record of a tree of miraculous origin, that in his time grew in the city of Tiberias. The old knight writes:—“In that cytee a man cast an brennynge [a burning] dart in wratthe after oure Lord, and the hed smote in to the eerthe, and wex grene, and it growed to a gret tree; and yit it growethe, and the bark there of is alle lyke coles.”

Miraculous Tree of Tiberias. From Maundevile’s Travels.

Among flowers, the Rose—the especial flower of martyrdom—has been the most connected with miracles. Maundevile gives it a miraculous origin, alleging that at Bethlehem the faggots lighted to burn an innocent maiden were, owing to her earnest prayers, extinguished and miraculously changed into bushes which bore the first Roses, both white and red. According to monastic tradition, the martyr-saint Dorothea sent a basket of Roses miraculously to the notary Theophilus, from the garden of Paradise. The Romish legend of St. Cecilia relates that after Valerian, her husband, had been converted and baptised by St. Urban, he returned to his home, and heard, as he entered it, the most enchanting music. On reaching his wife’s apartment, he beheld an angel standing near her, who held in his hand two crowns of Roses gathered in Paradise, immortal in their freshness and perfume, but invisible to the eyes of unbelievers. With these the angel encircled the brows of Cecilia and Valerian, and promised that the eyes of Tiburtius, Valerian’s brother, should be opened to the truth. Then he vanished. Soon afterwards Tiburtius entered the chamber, and perceiving the fragrance of the celestial Roses, but not seeing them, and knowing that it was not the season for flowers, he was astonished, yielded to the fervid appeal of St. Cecilia, and became a Christian.

St. Elizabeth, of Hungary, is always represented with Roses in her lap or hand, in allusion to a legend which relates that this saint, the type of female charity, one day, in the depth of winter, left her husband’s castle, carrying in the skirts of her robe a supply of provisions for a certain poor family; and as she was descending the frozen and slippery path, her husband, returning from the chase, met her bending under the weight of her charitable burden. “What dost thou here, my Elizabeth?” he asked: “let us see what thou art carrying away.” Then she, confused and blushing to be so discovered, pressed her mantle to her bosom; but he insisted, and opening her robe, he beheld only red and white Roses, more beautiful and fragrant than any that grow on this earth, even at summer-tide, and it was now the depth of winter! Turning to embrace his wife, he was so overawed by the supernatural glory exhibited on her face, that he dared not touch her; but, bidding her proceed on her mission, he took one of the Roses of Paradise from her lap, and placed it reverently in his breast.

Trithemius narrates that Albertus Magnus, in the depths of winter, gave to King William on the festival of Epiphany a most elegant banquet in the little garden of his Monastery. Suddenly, although the monastery itself was covered with snow, the atmosphere in the garden became balmy, the trees became covered with leaves, and even produced ripe fruit—each tree after its kind. A Vine sent forth a sweet odour and produced fresh grapes in abundance, to the amazement of everyone. Flocks of birds of all kinds were attracted to the spot, and, rejoicing at the summer-like temperature, burst into song. At length, the wonderful entertainment came to an end, the tables were removed, and the servants all retired from the grounds. Then the singing of the birds ceased, the green of the trees, shrubs, and grasses speedily faded and withered, the flowers drooped and perished, the masses of snow which had so strangely disappeared now covered everything, and a piercing cold of great intensity obliged the king and his fellow-guests to seek shelter and warmth within the Monastery walls. Greatly astonished and moved at what he had seen, King William called Albertus to him, and promised to grant him whatever he might request. Albertus asked for land in the State of Utrecht, whereon to erect a Monastery of his own order. His request was granted, and he also obtained from the King many other favours.

It is recorded that on the same day that Alexander de’ Medici, the Duke of Florence, was treacherously killed, in the Villa of Cosmo de’ Medici, an abundance of all kinds of flowers burst into bloom, although quite out of the flowering season; and on that day the Cosmian gardens alone appeared gay with flowers, as though Spring had come.

#### Father Garnet’s Straw.

At the commencement of the present chapter on extraordinary and miraculous plants, allusion was made to certain trees which were reputed to have borne as fruit human heads. A fitting conclusion to this list of wonders would appear to be an account of a wondrous ear of Straw, which, in the year 1606, was stated miraculously to have borne in effigy the head of Father Garnet, who was executed for complicity in the Gunpowder Plot. It would seem that, after the execution of Garnet and his companion Oldcorne, tales of miracles performed in vindication of their innocence, and in honour of their martyrdom, were circulated by the Jesuits. But the miracle most insisted upon as a supernatural confirmation of the Jesuit’s innocence and martyrdom, was the story of Father Garnet’s Straw. The originator of this miracle was supposed to be one John Wilkinson, a young Catholic, who, at the time of Garnet’s trial and execution, was about to pass over into France, to commence his studies at the Jesuits’ college at St. Omers. Some time after his arrival there, Wilkinson was attacked by a dangerous disease, from which there was no hope of recovery; and while in this state he gave utterance to the story, which Eudæmon-Joannes relates in his own words. Having described his strong impression that he should “witness some immediate testimony from God in favour of the innocence of His saint,” his attendance at the execution, and its details, he proceeds thus:—“Garnet’s limbs having been divided into four parts, and placed together with the head in a basket, in order that they might be exhibited according to law in some conspicuous place, the crowd began to disperse. I then again approached close to the scaffold, and stood between the cart and the place of execution; and as I lingered in that situation, still burning with the desire of bearing away some relique, that miraculous ear of Straw, since so highly celebrated, came, I know not how, into my hand. A considerable quantity of dry Straw had been thrown with Garnet’s head and quarters from the scaffold into the basket; but whether this ear came into my hand from the scaffold or from the basket, I cannot venture to affirm: this only I can truly say, that a Straw of this kind was thrown towards me before it had touched the ground. This Straw I afterwards delivered to Mrs. N., a matron of singular Catholic piety, who inclosed it in a bottle, which being rather shorter than the Straw, it became slightly bent. A few days afterwards, Mrs. N. showed the Straw in the bottle to a certain noble person, her intimate acquaintance, who, looking at it attentively, at length said, ‘I can see nothing in it but a man’s face.’ At this, Mrs. N. and I, being astonished at the unexpected exclamation, again and again examined the ear of Straw, and distinctly perceived in it a human countenance, which others, also coming in as casual spectators, or expressly called by us as witnesses, also beheld at that time. This is, as God knoweth, the true history of Father Garnet’s Straw.”

[enlarge]

TO FACE PAGE 135.]

Father Garnet’s Straw.
From the ‘Apology of Eudæmon-Joannes.’

In process of time, the fame of the prodigy encouraged those who had an interest in upholding it to add considerably to the miracle as it was at first promulgated. Wilkinson and the first observers of the marvel merely represented that the appearance of a face was shown on so diminutive a scale, upon the husk or sheath of a single grain, as scarcely to be visible unless specifically pointed out. Fig. 1 in the accompanying plate accurately depicts the miracle as it was at first displayed.

But a much more imposing image was afterwards discovered. Two faces appeared upon the middle part of the Straw, both surrounded with rays of glory; the head of the principal figure, which represented Garnet, was encircled with a martyr’s crown, and the face of a cherub appeared in the midst of his beard. In this improved state of the miracle, the story was circulated in England, and excited the most profound and universal attention; and thus depicted, the miraculous Straw became generally known throughout the Christian world. Fig. 2 in the sketch exactly represents the prodigy in its improved state: it is taken from the frontispiece to the ‘Apology of Eudæmon-Joannes.’

So great was the scandal occasioned by this story of Father Garnet’s miraculous Straw, that Archbishop Bancroft was commissioned by the Privy Council to institute an inquiry, and, if possible, to detect and punish the perpetration of what he considered a gross imposture; but although a great many persons were examined, no distinct evidence of imposition could be obtained. It was proved, however, that the face might have been limned on the Straw by Wilkinson, or under his direction, during the interval which occurred between the time of Garnet’s death and the discovery of the miraculous head. At all events, the inquiry had the desired effect of staying public curiosity in England; and upon this the Privy Council took no further proceedings against any of the parties.

### CHAPTER XII.
Plants Connected with Birds and Animals.

The association of trees and birds has been the theme of the most ancient writers. The Skalds have sung how an Eagle sat in stately majesty on the topmost branch of Yggdrasill, whilst the keen-eyed Hawk hovered around. The Vedas record how the Pippala of the Hindu Paradise was daily visited by two beauteous birds, one of which fed from its celestial food, whilst its companion poured forth delicious melody from its reed-like throat. On the summit of the mystic Soma-tree were perched two birds, the one engaged in expressing the immortalising Soma-juice, the other feeding on the Figs which hung from the branches of the sacred tree. A bird, bearing in its beak a twig plucked from its favourite tree, admonished the patriarch Noah that the waters of the flood were subsiding from the deluged world.

In olden times there appears to have been a notion that in some cases plants could not be germinated excepting through the direct intervention of birds. Thus Bacon tells us of a tradition, current in his day, that a bird, called a Missel-bird, fed upon a seed which, being unable to digest, she evacuated whole; and that this seed, falling upon boughs of trees, put forth the Mistletoe. A similar story is told by Tavernier of the Nutmeg. “It is observable,” he says, “that the Nutmeg-tree is never planted: this has been attested to me by several persons who have resided many years in the islands of Bonda. I have been assured that when the nuts are ripe, there come certain birds from the islands that lie towards the South, who swallow them down whole, and evacuate them whole likewise, without ever having digested them. These nuts being then covered with a viscous and glutinous matter, when they fall on the ground, take root, vegetate, and produce a tree, which would not grow from them if they were planted like other trees.”

The Druids, dwelling as they did in groves and forests, frequented by birds and animals, were adepts at interpreting the meaning of their actions and sounds. A knowledge of the language of the bird and animal kingdoms was deemed by them a marvellous gift, which was only to be imparted to the priestess who should be fortunate enough to tread under foot the mystic Selago, or Golden Herb.

At a time when men had no almanack to warn them of the changing of the seasons, no calendar to guide them in the planting of their fields and gardens, the arrival and departure of birds helped to direct them in the cultivation of plants. So we find Ecclesiastes preached “a bird of the air shall carry the voice,” and in modern times the popular saying arose of “a little bird has told me.”

This notion of the birds imparting knowledge is prettily rendered by Hans Christian Andersen, in his story of the Fir-tree, where the sapling wonders what is done with the trees taken out of the wood at Christmas time. “Ah, we know—we know,” twittered the Sparrows; “for we have looked in at the windows in yonder town.”

Dr. Solander tells us that the peasants of Upland remark that “When you see the Wheatear you may sow your grain,” for in this country there is seldom any severe frost after the Wheatear appears; and the shepherds of Salisbury Plain say:—

“When Dotterel do first appear,
It shows that frost is very near;
But when the Dotterel do go,
Then you may look for heavy snow.”

Aristophanes makes one of his characters say that in former times the Kite ruled the Greeks; his meaning being that in ancient days the Kite was looked upon as the sign of Spring and of the necessity of commencing active work in field and garden; and again, “The Crow points out the time for sowing when she flies croaking to Libya.” In another place he notices that the Cuckoo in like manner governed Phœnicia and Egypt, because when it cried Kokku, Kokku, it was considered time to reap the Wheat and Barley fields.

In our own country, this welcome harbinger of the Springtide has been associated with a number of vernal plants: we have the Cuckoo Flower (Lychnis Flos cuculi), Cuckoo’s Bread or Meat, and Cuckoo’s Sorrel (Oxalis Acetosella), Cuckoo Grass (Lazula campestris), and Shakspeare’s “Cuckoo Buds of yellow hue,” which are thought to be the buds of the Crowfoot (Ranunculus). The association in the popular rhyme of the Cuckoo with the Cherry-tree is explained by an old superstition that before it ceases its song, the Cuckoo must eat three good meals of Cherries. In Sussex, the Whitethorn is called the Cuckoo’s Bread-and-Cheese Tree, and an old proverb runs—

“When the Cuckoo comes to the bare Thorn,
Then sell your Cow and buy your Corn.”

Mr. Parish has remarked that it is singular this name should be given to the Whitethorn, as among all Aryan nations the tree is associated with lightning, and the Cuckoo is connected with the lightning gods Jupiter and Thor.

Pliny relates that the Halcyon, or Kingfisher, at breeding-time, foretold calm and settled weather. The belief in the wisdom of birds obtained such an ascendancy over men’s minds, that we find at length no affair of moment was entered upon without consulting them. Thus came in augury, by which was meant a forewarning of future events derived from prophetic birds. One of these systems of divinations, for the purpose of discovering some secret or future event was effected by means of a Cock and grains of Barley, in the following manner: the twenty-four letters of the alphabet having been written in the dust, upon each letter was laid a grain of Barley, and a Cock, over which previous incantations had been uttered, was let loose among them; those letters off which it pecked the Barley, being joined together, were then believed to declare the word of which they were in search. The magician Jamblichus, desirous to find out who should succeed Valens in the imperial purple, made use of this divination, but the Cock only picked up four grains, viz., those which lay upon the (Greek) letters th. e. o. d., so that it was uncertain whether Theodosius, Theodotus, Theodorus, or Theodectes, was the person designed by the Fates. Valens, when informed of the matter, was so terribly enraged, that he put several persons to death simply because their names began with these letters. When, however, he proceeded to make search after the magicians themselves, Jamblichus put an end to his majesty’s life by a dose of poison, and he was succeeded by Theodosius in the empire of the East.

The loves of the Nightingale and the Rose have formed a favourite topic of Eastern poets. In a fragment by the celebrated Persian poet Attar, entitled Bulbul Nameh (the Book of the Nightingale), all the birds appear before Solomon, and charge the Nightingale with disturbing their rest by the broken and plaintive strains which he warbles forth in a sort of frenzy and intoxication. The Nightingale is summoned, questioned, and acquitted by the wise king, because the bird assures him that his vehement love for the Rose drives him to distraction, and causes him to break forth into those languishing and touching complaints which are laid to his charge. Thus the Persians believe that the Nightingale in Spring flutters around the Rose-bushes, uttering incessant complaints, till, overpowered by the strong scent, he drops stupefied to the ground. The impassioned bird makes his appearance in Eastern climes at the season when the Rose begins to blow: hence the legend that the beauteous flower bursts forth from its bud at the song of its ravished adorer. The Persian poet Jami says, “The Nightingales warbled their enchanting notes and rent the thin veils of the Rose-bud and the Rose;” and Moore has sung—

“Oh sooner shall the Rose of May
Mistake her own sweet Nightingale,
And to some meaner minstrel’s lay
Open her bosom’s glowing veil,
Than love shall ever doubt a tone—
A breath—of the beloved one!”

And in another place, the author of ‘Lalla Rookh’ asks—

“Though rich the spot
With every flower the earth hath got,
What is it to the Nightingale,
If there his darling Rose is not?”

Lord Byron has alluded to this pretty conceit in the ‘Giaour,’ when he sings—

“The Rose o’er crag or vale,
Sultana of the Nightingale,
The maid for whom his melody,
His thousand songs are heard on high,
Blooms blushing to her lover’s tale,
His queen, the garden queen, his Rose,
Unbent by winds, unchill’d by snows.”

From the verses of the poet Jami may be learnt how the first Rose appeared in Gulistan at the time when the flowers, dissatisfied with the reign of the torpid Lotus, who would slumber at night, demanded a new sovereign from Allah. At first the Rose queen was snowy white, and guarded by a protecting circlet of Thorns; but the amorous Nightingale fell into such a transport of love over her charms, and so recklessly pressed his ravished heart against the cruel Thorns, that his blood trickling into the lovely blossom’s bosom, dyed it crimson; and, in corroboration of this, the poet demands, “Are not the petals white at the extremity where the poor little bird’s blood could not reach?” Perhaps this Eastern poetic legend may have given rise to the belief, which has long been entertained, that the Nightingale usually sleeps on, or with its bosom against, a Thorn, under the impression that in such a painful situation it must remain awake. Young, in his ‘Night Thoughts,’ thus refers to this curious idea—

“Grief’s sharpest Thorn hard-pressing on my breast,
I share with wakeful melody to cheer
The sullen gloom, sweet Philomel! like thee,
And call the stars to listen.”

And in Thomson’s ‘Hymn to May,’ we find this allusion:—

“The lowly Nightingale,
A Thorn her pillow, trills her doleful tale.”

In a sonnet by Sir Philip Sydney, afterwards set to music by Bateson, we read—

“The Nightingale, as soon as April bringeth
Unto her rested sense a perfect waking,
When late bare earth, proud of new clothing, springeth,
Sings out her woes, a Thorn her song-book making,
And mournfully bewailing,
Her throat in tunes expresseth,
While grief her heart oppresseth,
For Tereus o’er her chaste will prevailing.”

Shakspeare notices the story in the following quaint lines—

“Everything did banish moan,
Save the Nightingale alone;
She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
Leaned her breast up till a Thorn,
And then sung the doleful ditty,
That to hear it was great pity.”

In Yorkshire, there is a tradition of Hops having been planted many years ago, near Doncaster, and of the Nightingale making its first appearance there about the same time. The popular idea was, that between the bird and the plant some mysterious connecting link existed. Be this as it may, both the Hops and the Nightingale disappeared long ago.

It is not alone the Nightingale that has a legendary connection with a Thorn. Another favourite denizen of our groves may also lay claim to this distinction, inasmuch as, according to a tradition current in Brittany, its red breast was originally produced by the laceration of an historic Thorn. In this story it is said that, whilst our Saviour was bearing His cross on the way to Calvary, a little bird, struck with compassion at His sufferings, flew suddenly to Him, and plucked from His bleeding brow one of the cruel thorns of His mocking crown, steeped in His blood. In bearing it away in its beak, drops of the Divine blood fell upon the little bird’s breast, and dyed its plumage red; so that ever since the Red-breast has been treated as the friend of man, and is studiously protected by him from harm.

Whether or no this legend of the origin of our little friend’s red breast formerly influenced mankind in its favour, it is certain that the Robin has always been regarded with tenderness. Popular tradition, even earlier than the date of the story of the Children in the Wood, has made him our sexton with the aid of plants:—

“No burial this pretty pair
Of any man receives,
Till Robin Redbreast, painfully,
Did cover them with leaves.”

It is noted in Gray’s Shakspeare that, according to the oldest traditions, if the Robin finds the dead body of a human being, he will cover the face at least with Moss and leaves.

“Cov’ring with Moss the dead’s unclosed eye
The little Redbreast teacheth charitie.”—Drayton’s ‘Owl.’

The Wren is also credited with employing plants for acts of similar charity. In Reed’s old plays, we read—

“Call for the Robin Redbreast and the Wren,
Since o’er shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flow’rs do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.”

A writer in one of our popular periodicals[15] gives another quaint quotation expressive of the tradition, from Stafford’s ‘Niobe dissolved into a Nilus’: “On her (the Nightingale) smiles Robin in his redde livvrie; who sits as a coroner on the murthred man; and seeing his body naked, plays the sorrie tailour to make him a Mossy rayment.”

The Missel or Missel-Thrush is sometimes called the Mistletoe-Thrush, because it feeds upon Mistletoe berries. Lord Bacon, in Sylva Sylvarum, refers (as already noted) to an old belief that the seeds of Mistletoe will not vegetate unless they have passed through the stomach of this bird.

The Peony is said to cure epilepsy, if certain ceremonies are duly observed. A patient, however, must on no account taste the root, if a Woodpecker should happen to be in sight, or he will be certain to be stricken with blindness.

Among the many magical properties ascribed to the Spreng-wurzel (Spring-wort), or, as it is sometime called, the Blasting-root, is its power to reveal treasures. But this it can only do through the instrumentality of a bird, which is usually a green or black Woodpecker (according to Pliny, also the Raven; in Switzerland, the Hoopoe; in the Tyrol, the Swallow). In order to become possessed of a root of this magical plant, arrangements must be made with much care and circumspection, and the bird closely watched. When the old bird has temporarily left its nest, access to it must be stopped up by plugging the hole with wood. The bird, finding this, will fly away in search of the Spring-wort, and returning, will open the nest by touching the obstruction with the mystic root. Meanwhile a fire or a red cloth must be spread out closely, which will so startle the bird, that it will let the root fall from its bills, and it can thus be secured. Pliny relates of the Woodpecker, that the hen bird brings up her young in holes, and if the entrance be plugged up, no matter how securely, the old bird is able to force out the plug with an explosion caused by the plant. Aubrey confounds the Moonwort with the Springwort. He says:—“Sir Benet Hoskins, Baronet, told me that his keeper at his parke at Morehampton, in Herefordshire, did, for experiment’s sake, drive an iron naile thwert the hole of the Woodpecker’s nest, there being a tradition that the damme will bring some leafe to open it. He layed at the bottome of the tree a cleane sheet, and before many hours passed, the naile came out, and he found a leafe lying by it on the sheete. They say the Moonewort will doe such things.”

Tradition tells us of a certain magical herb called Chora, which was also known as the Herba Meropis, or plant of the Merops, a bird which the Germans were familiar with under the name of Bömhechel or Baumhacker (Woodpecker). This bird builds its nest in high trees, but should anyone cover the young brood with something which prevents the parent bird from visiting the nest, it flies off in search of a herb. This is brought in the Merops’ beak, and held over the obstacle till it falls off or gives way.

In Swabia, the Springwort is regarded as a plant embodying electricity or lightning; but the Hoopoe takes the place of the Woodpecker in employing the herb for blasting and removing offensive obstacles. The Swabians, however, instead of a red cloth, place a pail of water, or kindle a fire, as the Hoopoe, wishing to destroy the Springwort, after using it, drops it either into fire or water. It is related of the Hoopoe, that one of these birds had a nest in an old wall in which there was a crevice. The proprietor, noticing the cleft in the wall, had it stopped up with plaster during the Hoopoe’s absence, so that when the poor bird returned to feed her young, she found that it was impossible to get to her nest. Thereupon she flew off in quest of a plant called Poa, thought to be Sainfoin or Lucerne, and, having found a spray, returned and applied it to the plaster, which instantly fell from the crevice, and allowed the Hoopoe ingress to her nest. Twice again did the owner plaster up the rent in his wall, and twice again did the persistent and sagacious bird apply the magic Poa with successful results.

In Piedmont there grows a little plant which, as stated in a previous chapter, bears the name of the Herb of the Blessed Mary. This plant is known to the birds as being fatal when eaten: hence, when their young are stolen from them and imprisoned in cages, the parent birds, in order that death may release them from their life of bondage, gather a spray of this herb and carry it in their beaks to their imprisoned children.

The connection between the Dove and the Olive has been set forth for all time in the Bible narrative of Noah and the Flood; but it would seem from Sir John Maundevile’s account of the Church of St. Katherine, which existed at his time in the vicinity of Mount Sinai, that Ravens, Choughs, and Crows have emulated the example of the Dove, and carried Olive-branches to God-fearing people. This Church of St. Katherine, we are told, marks the spot where God revealed Himself to Moses in the burning bush, and in it there were many lamps kept burning: the reason of this Maundevile thus explains:—“For thei han of Oyle of Olyves ynow bothe for to brenne in here lampes, and to ete also: And that plentee have thei be the Myracle of God. For the Ravenes and Crowes and the Choughes, and other Foules of the Contree assemblen hem there every Yeer ones, and fleen thider as in pilgrymage: and everyche of hem bringethe a Braunche of the Bayes or of Olive, in here bekes, in stede of Offryng, and leven hem there; of the whiche the monkes maken gret plentee of Oyle; and this is a gret Marvaylle.”

Pious Birds and Olives. From Maundevile’s Travels.

The ancients entertained a strong belief that birds were gifted with the knowledge of herbs, and that just as the Woodpecker and Hoopoe sought out the Springwort, wherewith to remove obstructions, so other birds made use of certain herbs which they knew possessed valuable medicinal or curative properties; thus Aristotle, Pliny, Dioscorides, and the old herbalists and botanical writers, all concur in stating that Swallows were in the habit of plucking Celandine (Chelidonium), and applying it to the eyes of their young, because, as Gerarde tells us, “With this herbe the dams restore sight to their young ones when their eies be put out.” W. Coles, fully accepting the fact as beyond cavil, thus moralizes upon it:—“It is known to such as have skill of nature what wonderful care she takes of the smallest creatures, giving to them a knowledge of medicine to help themselves, if haply diseases annoy them. The Swallow cureth her dim eyes with Celandine; the Wesell knoweth well the virtue of Herb Grace; the Dove the Verven; the Dogge dischargeth his mawe with a kind of Grasse; ... and too long it were to reckon up all the medicines which the beestes are known to use by Nature’s direction only.” The same writer, in his ‘Adam and Eden,’ tells us that the Euphrasia, or Eyebright, derived its English name from the fact of its being used by Linnets and other birds to clear their sight. Says he: “Divers authors write that Goldfinches, Linnets, and some other birds make use of this herb for the repairing of their young ones’ sight. The purple and yellow spots and stripes which are upon the flowers of Eyebright very much resemble the diseases of the eyes, or bloodshot.”

Apuleius tells us that the Eagle, when he wishes to soar high and scan far and wide, plucks a wild Lettuce, and expressing the juice, rubs with it his eyes, which in consequence become wonderfully clear and far-seeing. The Hawk, for a similar purpose, was thought to employ the Hawk-bit, or Hawk-weed (Hieracium). Pigeons and Doves, not to be behind their traditional enemy, discovered that Vervain possessed the power of curing dimness of vision, and were not slow to use it with that object: hence the plant obtained the name of Pigeon’s-grass. Geese were thought to “help their diseases” with Galium aparine, called on that account Goose-grass; and they are said to sometimes feed on the Potentilla anserina, or Goose Tansy. On the other hand, they were so averse to the herb known to the ancients as Chenomychon, that they took to flight the moment they spied it.

There is an old tradition of a certain life-giving herb, which was known to birds, and a story is told of how one day an old man watched two birds fighting till one was overcome. In an almost exhausted state it went and ate of a certain herb, and then returned to the onslaught. When the old man had observed this occur several times, he went and plucked the herb which had proved so valuable to the little bird; and when at last it came once more in search of the life-giving plant, and found it gone, it uttered a shrill cry, and fell down dead. The name of the herb is not given; but the story has such a strong family likeness to that narrated by Forestus, in which the Goat’s Rue is introduced, that, probably, Galega is the life-giving herb referred to. The story told by Forestus is as follows:—A certain old man once taking a walk by the bank of a river, saw a Lizard fighting with a Viper; so he quietly lay down on the ground, that he might the better witness the fight without being seen by the combatants. The Lizard, being the inferior in point of strength, was speedily wounded by a very powerful stroke from the Viper—so much so, that it lay on the turf as if dying. But shortly recovering itself, it crept through the rather long Grass, without being noticed by the Viper, along the bank of the river, to a certain herb (Goat’s Rue), growing there nigh at hand. The Lizard, having devoured it, regained at once its former strength, and returning to the Viper, attacked it in the same way as before, but was wounded again from receiving another deadly blow from the Viper. Once more the Lizard secretly made for the herb, to regain its strength, and being revived, it again engaged with its dangerous enemy—but in vain; for it experienced the same fate as before. Looking on, the old man wondered at the plant not less than at the battle; and in order to try if the herb possessed other hidden powers, he pulled it up secretly, while the Lizard was engaged afresh with the Viper. The Lizard having been again wounded, returned towards the herb, but not being able to find it in its accustomed place, it sank exhausted and died.

Numerous plants have had the names of birds given to them, either from certain peculiarities in their structure resembling birds, or because they form acceptable food for the feathered race. Thus the Cock’s Comb is so called from the shape of its calyx; the Cock’s Foot, from the form of its spike; and the Cock’s Head (the Sainfoin), from the shape of the legume. The Crane’s Bill and the Heron’s Bill both derive their names from the form of their respective seed vessels. The Guinea Hen (Fritillaria meleagris) has been so called from its petals being spotted like this bird. The Pheasant’s Eye (Adonis autumnalis) owes its name to its bright red corolla and dark centre; the Sparrow Tongue (the Knot-grass) to its small acute leaves; and the Lark’s Spur, Heel, Toe, or Claw (Delphinium) to its projecting nectary. Chickweed and Duckweed have been so called from being favourite food for poultry. The Crow has given its name to a greater number of plants than any other bird. The Ranunculus is the Coronopus or Crow Foot of Dioscorides, the Geranium pratense is the Crowfoot Crane’s Bill, the Lotus corniculatus is called Crow Toes, the Daffodil and the Blue-bell both bear the name of Crow Bells, the Empetrum nigrum is the Crow Berry, Allium vineale is Crow Garlick, Scilla nutans, Crow Leeks, and the Scandix Pecten, Crow Needles. The Hen has a few plants named after it, the greater and lesser Hen Bits (Lamium amplexicaule and Veronica hederifolia); the Hen’s Foot (Caucalis daucoides), so called from the resemblance of its leaves to a hen’s claw; and Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger), which seems to have derived its name from the baneful effects its seeds have upon poultry.

#### Plants connected with Animals.

The Ass has named after it the Ass Parsley (Æthusa Cynapium), and the Ass’s Foot, the Coltsfoot, Tussilago Farfara. William Coles says that “if the Asse be oppressed with melancholy, he eates of the Herbe Asplenion or Miltwaste, and eases himself of the swelling of the spleen.” D. C. Franciscus Paullini has given, in an old work, an account of three Asses he met in Westphalia, which were in the habit of intoxicating themselves by eating white Henbane and Nightshade. These four-footed drunkards, when in their cups, strayed to a pond, where they pulled themselves together with a dip and a draught of water. The same author relates another story. A miller of Thuringia had brought meal with his nine Asses into the next district. Having accepted the hospitality of some boon companions, he left his long-eared friends to wander around the place and to feed from the hedgerows and public roads. There they chanced to find a quantity of Thistles that had been cut, and other food mixed with Hemlock, and at once devoured the spoil greedily and confidently. At dusk, the miller, rising to depart, was easily detained by his associates, who cried out that the road was short, and that the moon, which had risen, would light him better than any torch. Meanwhile, the Asses, feeling the Hemlock’s power in their bodies, fell down on the public road, being deprived of all motion and sensation. At length, about midnight, the miller came to his Asses, and thinking them to be asleep, lashed them vigorously. But they remained motionless, and apparently dead. The miller, much frightened, now besought assistance from the country-folks, but they were all of one opinion, that the Asses were dead, and that they should be skinned the next day, when the cause of such a sudden death could be inquired into. “Come,” said he, “if they are dead, why should I worry myself about them—let them lie. We can do no good. Come, my friends, let us return into the inn—to-morrow you will be my witnesses.” Meanwhile the skinners were called; and, after looking at the Asses, one of them said, “Do you wish, miller, that we should take their skins off; or would you be disposed, if we restored the beasts to life, to give us a handsome reward? You see they are quite in our power. Say what you wish, and it shall be done, miller.” “Here is my hand,” replied the miller, “and I pledge my word that I will give you what you wish, if you restore them to life.” The skinner, smiling, caught hold of the whip, and lashing the beasts with all his might, roused all from their lethargic condition. The rustics were confounded. “O! you foolish fellows,” said he, “look at this herb (showing them some Hemlock), how profusely it grows in this neighbourhood. Do you not know that Hemlock causes Asses to fall into a profound sleep?” The rustics, flocking together under a Lime-tree, as rustics do, made there and then a law that whosoever should discover, in field or garden, or anywhere else, that noxious plant, he should pluck it quickly, in order that men and beasts might be injured by it no more.

The Bear has given its name to several English plants. The Primula Auricula, on account of the shape of its leaves, is called Bear’s Ears; the Helleborus fœtidus, for a similar reason, is known as Bears Foot; Meum athamanticum is Bear’s-wort; Allium ursinum, Bear’s Garlic; and Arctostaphylos uva ursi, Bear’s Berry, or Bear’s Bilberry; the three last plants being favourite food of Bears. The Acanthus used at one time to be called Bear’s Breech, but the name has for some unaccountable reason been transferred to the Cow Parsnip, Heracleum Sphondylium. In Italy the name of Branca orsina is given to the Acanthus. This plant was considered by Dioscorides a cure for burns. Pliny says that Bear’s grease had the same property. De Gubernatis states that two Indian plants, the Argyreia argentea and the Batatas paniculata, bear Sanscrit names signifying “Odour pleasing to Bears.”

The Bull has given its name to some few plants. Tussilago Farfara, generally called Coltsfoot, is also known as Bull’s-Foot; Centaurea nigra is Bull’s-weed; Verbascum Thapsus is Bullock’s Lungwort, having been so denominated on account of its curative powers, suggested, on the Doctrine of Signatures, by the similarity of its leaf to the shape of a dewlap. The purple and the pale spadices of Arum maculatum are sometimes called Bulls and Cows. The Great Daisy is Ox-Eye; the Primula elatior, Ox-Lip; the Helminthia echioides, Ox-Tongue; and the Helleborus fætidus, Ox-Heel. The Antirrhinum and Arum maculatum are, from their resemblance in shape, respectively known as Calf’s Snout and Calf’s Foot.

Cats have several representative plants. From its soft flower-heads, the Gnaphalium dioicum is called Cat’s Foot; from the shape of its leaves, the Hypochæris maculata is known as Cat’s Ear; the Ground Ivy, also from the shape of its leaves, is Cat’s Paw; two plants are known as Cat’s Tail, viz., Typha latifolia and Phleum pratense. Euphorbia helioscopia, on account of its milky juice, is Cat’s Milk; and, lastly, Nepeta cataria is denominated Cat-Mint, because, as Gerarde informs us in his ‘Herbal,’ “Cats are very much delighted herewith: for the smell of it is so pleasant unto them, that they rub themselves upon it, and wallow or tumble in it, and also feed on the branches very greedily.” We are also told by another old writer that Cats are amazingly delighted with the root of the plant Valerian; so much so, that, enticed by its smell, they at once run up to it, lick it, kiss it, jump on it, roll themselves over it, and exhibit almost uncontrollable signs of joy and gladness. There is an old rhyme on the liking of Cats for the plant Marum, which runs as follows:—

“If you set it,
The Cats will eat it;
If you sow it,
The Cats will know it.”

The Cow has given its name to a whole series of plants: its Berry is Vaccinium Vitis idæa, its Cress, Lepidium campestre, its Parsley or Weed, Chærophyllum sylvestre, its Parsnip, Heracleum Sphondylium, its Wheat, Melampyrum. The Quaking Grass, Briza media, is known as Cow Quake, from an idea that cattle are fond of it; and the Water Hemlock (Cicuta virosa) has the opprobrious epithet of Cow Bane applied to it, from its supposed baneful effect upon oxen. The Primula veris is the Cowslip.

In Norway is to be found the herb Ossifrage—a kind of Reed which is said to have the remarkable power of softening the bones of animals; so much so, that if oxen eat it, their bones become so soft that not only are the poor beasts rendered incapable of walking, but they can even be rolled into any shape. They are not said to die however. Fortunately they can be cured, if the bones are exhibited to them of another animal killed by the eating of this plant. It is most wonderful, however, that the inhabitants make a medicine for cementing bones from this very herb.

There are several plants dedicated to man’s faithful friend. Dog’s Bane (Apocynum) is a very curious plant: its bell-shaped flowers entangle flies who visit the flower for its honey-juice, so that in August, when full blown, the corolla is full of their dead bodies. Although harmless to some persons, yet it is noxious to others, poisoning and creating swellings and inflammations on certain people who have only trod on it. Gerarde describes it as a deadly and dangerous plant, especially to four-footed beasts; “for, as Dioscorides writes, the leaves hereof, mixed with bread, and given, kill dogs, wolves, foxes, and leopards.” Dog’s Chamomile (Matricaria Chamomila) is a spurious or wild kind of Chamomile. Dog Grass (Triticum caninum) is so called because Dogs take it medicinally as an aperient. Dog’s Mercury (or Dog’s Cole) is a poisonous kind, so named to distinguish it from English Mercury. Dog’s Nettle is Galeopsis Tetrahit. Dog’s Orach (Chenopodium Vulvaria), is a stinking kind. Dog’s Parsley (Æthusa Cynapium), a deleterious weed, also called Fool’s Parsley and Lesser Hemlock. Dog Rose (Rosa canina) is the common wilding or Canker Rose; the ancients supposed the root to cure the bite of a mad Dog, it having been recommended by an oracle for that purpose; hence the Romans called it Canina; and Pliny relates that a soldier who had been bitten by a mad Dog, was healed with the root of this shrub, which had been indicated to his mother in a dream. Dog’s Tail Grass (Cynosurus cristatus) derives its name from its spike being fringed on one side only. Dog Violet (Viola canina) is so-called contemptuously because scentless. Dog’s Tongue, or Hound’s Tongue (Cynoglossum officinale) derived its name from the softness of its leaf, and was reputed to have the magical property of preventing the barking of Dogs if laid under a person’s feet. Dog Wood (Cornus sanguinea) is the wild Cornel; and Dog Berries the fruit of that herb, which was also formerly called Hound’s Tree. Dr. Prior thinks that this name has been misunderstood, and that it is derived from the old English word dagge, or dagger, which was applied to the wood because it was used for skewers by butchers. The ancient Greeks knew a plant (supposed to be a species of Antirrhinum) which they called Cynocephalia (Dog’s Head), as well as Osiris; and to this plant Pliny ascribes extraordinary properties. As a rule, the word “Dog,” when applied to any plant, implies contempt.

After the Fox has been named, from its shape, the Alopecurus pratensis, Fox-Tail-grass; and the Digitalis has been given the name of Fox-Glove.

The Goat has its Weed (Ægopodium Podagraria), and has given its name to the Tragopogon pratensis, which, on account of its long, coarse pappus, is called Goat’s Beard. Caprifolium, or Goat’s Leaf, is a specific name of the Honeysuckle, given to it by the old herbalists, because the leaf, or more properly the stem, climbs and wanders over high places where Goats are not afraid to tread.

A species of Sow Thistle, the Sonchus oleraceus, is called the Hare’s Palace, from a superstitious notion that the Hare derives shelter and courage from it. Gerarde calls it the Hare’s Lettuce, a name given to it by Apuleius, because, when the Hare is fainting with heat or fatigue, she recruits her failing strength with it. Dr. Prior gives the following extracts from old authors respecting this curious tradition. Anthony Askam says, “yf a Hare eate of this herbe in somer, when he is mad, he shal be hole.” Topsell also tells us in his ‘Natural History,’ p. 209, that “when Hares are overcome with heat, they eat of an herb called Lactuca leporina, that is, the Hare’s-lettuce, Hare’s-house, Hare’s-palace; and there is no disease in this beast, the cure whereof she does not seek for in this herb.” This plant is sometimes called Hare’s Thistle. Bupleurum rotundifolium is termed Hare’s Ear, from the shape of its leaves, as is also Erysimum orientale. Trifolium arvense is Hare’s Foot, from the soft grey down which surrounds the blossoms resembling the delicate fur of the Hare’s foot. Both Lagurus oratus, and the flowering Rush, Eriophorum vaginatum, are called Hare’s Tail, from the soft downy inflorescence.

Melilotus officinalis is Hart’s Clover; Scolopendrium vulgare, Hart’s Tongue; Plantago Coronopus, Hart’s Horn; Scirpus cæspitosus, Deer’s or Hart’s Hair; Rhamnus catharticus, Hart’s or Buck Thorn (Spina cervina); and Tordylium maximum, Hart Wort, so called because, as Dioscorides tells us, the juice of the leaves was given to Roes in order that they might speedily be delivered of their young. According to Pliny, the Roman matrons used to employ it for the same purpose, having been “taught by Hindes that eate it to speade their delivery, as Aristotle did declare it before.” The Raspberry is still sometimes called by its ancient name of Hindberry; and the Teucrium Scorodonia is known as Hind-heal, from an old tradition that it cures Deer when bitten by venomous serpents. The Dittany is said to have the same extraordinary effect on wounded Harts as upon Goats (see Dittany, Part II.).

Numerous indeed are the plants named after the Horse, either on account of the use they are put to, the shape of their foliage, &c., their large size, or the coarseness of their texture. Inula Helenium is Horse-heal, a name attached to the plant by a double blunder of Inula for hinnula, a Colt, and Helenium, for heal or heel; employed to heal Horses of sore heels, &c. Vicia Faba is the Horse Bean; Teucrium Chamædrys, the Germander, is called Horse Chire, from its springing up after Horse-droppings. Melampyrum sylvaticum is the Horse Flower, so called from a verbal error. The Alexandrian Laurel was formerly called Horse Tongue. Tussilago Farfara, from the shape of its leaf, is termed Horse Hoof. Centaurea nigra is Horse Knob. Another name for Colt’s Foot is Horse Foot; and we have Horse Thistle, Mint, Mushroom, Parsley, Thyme, and Radish. The Dutch Rush, Equisetum, is called Horse Tail, a name descriptive of its shape; Hippocrepis comosa is known as the Horse-shoe Vetch, from the shape of the legumes; and, lastly, the Œnanthe Phellandrium is the Horse Bane, because, in Sweden, it is supposed to give Horses the palsy. In Mexico, the Rattle Grass is said to instantly kill Horses who unfortunately eat it. The Indians call the Oleander Horse’s Death, and they name several plants after different parts of the Horse. In connection with Horses, we must not forget to mention the Moonwort, which draws the nails out of the Horses’ shoes, and of which Culpeper writes: “Moonwort is an herb which they say will open locks and unshoe such Horses as tread upon it; this some laugh to scorn, and those no small fools neither; but country people that I know, call it Unshoe-the-Horse. Besides, I have heard commanders say that, on White Down, in Devonshire, near Tiverton, there were found thirty horse-shoes, pulled off from the Earl of Essex’s horses, being then drawn up in a body, many of them being newly shod, and no reason known, which caused much admiration, and the herb described usually grows upon heaths.” In Italy, the herb Sferracavallo is deemed to have the power of unshoeing Horses out at pasture. The Mouse-ear, or Herba clavorum, is reputed to prevent blacksmiths hurting horses when being shod. The Scythians are said to have known a plant, called Hippice, which, when given to a Horse, would enable him to travel for some considerable time without suffering either from hunger or thirst. Perhaps this is the Water Pepper, which, according to English tradition, has the same effect if placed under the saddle.

The humble Hedgehog has suggested the name of Hedgehog Parsley for Caucalis daucoides, on account of its prickly burs.

In a previous chapter, a full description has been given of the Barometz, that mysterious plant of Tartary, immortalised by Darwin as the Vegetable Lamb. From the shape of its leaf, the Plantago media has gained the name of Lamb’s Tongue; from its downy flowers, the Anthyllis vulneraria is called Lamb’s Toe; either from its being a favourite food of Lambs, or because it appears at the lambing season, the Valerianella olitoria is known as Lamb’s Lettuce; and the Atriplex patula is called Lamb’s Quarters.

The Leopard has given its name to the deadly Doronicum Pardalianches (from the Greek Pardalis, a Leopard, and ancho, to strangle); hence our name of Leopard’s Bane, because it was reputed to cause the death of any animal that ate it, and it was therefore formerly mixed with flesh to destroy Leopards.

The Lion, according to Gerarde, claimed several plants. The Alchemilla vulgaris, from its leaf resembling his foot, was called Lion’s Foot or Paw; a plant, called Leontopetalon by the Greeks, was known in England as Lion’s Turnip or Lion’s Leaf; and two kinds of Cudweed, Leontopodium and L. parvum, bore the name of Lion’s Cudweed, from their flower-heads resembling a Lion’s foot. The Leontopodium has been identified with the Gnaphalium Alpinum, the Filago stellata, the Edelweiss of the Germans, and the Perlière des Alpes of the French. De Gubernatis points out that, inasmuch as the Lion represents the Sun, the plants bearing the Lion’s name are essentially plants of the Sun. This is particularly noticeable in the case of the Dandelion (Dent de Lion) or Lion’s Tooth. In Geneva, Switzerland, children form a chain of these flowers, and holding it in their hands, dance in a circle; a German name for it is Sonneswirbel (Solstice), as well as Solsequium heliotropium. The Romans saw in the flower of the Helianthus a resemblance to a Lion’s mouth. In the Orobanche or Broom Rape (the Sonnenwurz, Root of the Sun, of the Germans) some have seen the resemblance to a Lion’s mouth and foot; it was called the Lion’s Pulse or Lion’s Herb, and was considered an antidote to poison.

The tiny Mouse, like the majestic Lion, is represented in the vegetable kingdom by several plants. From the shape of the leaves, Hieracium Pilosella is known as Mouse Ear, Cerastium vulgare, Mouse Ear Chickweed, and Myosotis palustris, or Forget-Me-Not, Mouse Ear Scorpion Grass. Myosurus minimus, from the shape of its slender seed-spike, is called Mouse Tail; and Alopecurus agrestis, Mouse Tail Grass. Hordeum marinum is Mouse Barley.

Swine plants are numerous. We have the Swine Bane, Sow Bane, or Pig Weed (Chenopodium rubrum), a herb which, according to Parkinson, was “found certain to kill Swine.” The Pig Nut (Bunium flexuosum) is so called from its tubers being a favourite food of Pigs. Sow Bread (Cyclamen Europæum) has obtained its name for a similar reason; and Swine’s Grass (Polygonum aviculare) is so called because Swine are believed to be fond of it. Hyoseris minima is Swine Succory, and Senebiera Coronopus, Swine’s Cress. For possession of the Dandelion, the Pig enters the lists with the Lion, and claims the flower as the Swine’s Snout, on account of the form of its receptacle. According to Du Bartas, Swine, when affected with the spleen, seek relief by eating the Spleenwort or Miltwaste (Asplenium Ceterach),

“The Finger-Fern, which being given to Swine,
It makes their milt to melt away in fine.”

De Gubernatis states that the god Indra is thought to have taken the form of a Goat, and he gives a long list of Indian plants named after Sheep and Goats. The Ram, He-Goat, and Lamb, called Mesha, also give their names, in Sanscrit, to different plants. In England, Rumex Acetosella is Sheep’s Sorrel, Chærophyllum temulum Sheep’s Parsley, Jasione montana Sheep’s-Bit-Scabious, and Hydrocotyle vulgaris, or White Rot, Sheep’s Bane, from its character of poisoning Sheep.

The Squirrel, although a denizen of the woods, only claims one plant, Hordeum maritimum, which, from the shape of its flower-spike, has obtained the name of Squirrel Tail.

The Elephant has a whole series of Indian trees and plants dedicated to him, which are enumerated by De Gubernatis; the Bignonia suaveolens is called the Elephant’s Tree; and certain Cucumbers, Pumpkins, and Gourds are named after him.

The Wolf, in India, gives its name to the Colypea hernandifolia, and Wolf’s Eye is a designation given to the Ipomœa Turpethum. Among the Germans, the Wolf becomes, under the several names of Graswolf, Kornwolf, Roggenwolf, and Kartoffelwolf, a demon haunting fields and crops. In our own country, the Euphorbia, from its acrid, milky juice, is called Wolf’s Milk; the Lycopodium clavatum is the Wolf’s Claw, and the Aconitum Lycoctonum is Wolf’s Bane, a name it obtained in olden times when hunters were in the habit of poisoning with the juice of this plant the baits of flesh they laid for Wolves.

There are several plants bearing, in some form or other, the appellation of Dragon. The common Dragon (Arum Dracunculus) is, as its name implies, a species of Arum, which sends up a straight stalk about three feet high, curiously spotted like the belly of a serpent. The flower of the Dragon plant has such a strong scent of carrion, that few persons can endure it, and it is consequently usually banished from gardens. Gerarde describes three kinds of Dragons, under the names of Great Dragon, Small Dragon, and Water Dragon: these plants all have homœopathic qualities, inasmuch as although they are by name at least vegetable reptiles, yet, according to Dioscorides, all who have rubbed the leaves or roots upon their hands, will not be bitten by Vipers. Pliny also says that Serpents will not come near anyone who carries a portion of a Dragon plant with him, and that it was a common practice in his day to keep about the person a piece of the root of this herb. Gerarde tells us that “the distilled water has vertue against the pestilence or any pestilentiall fever or poyson, being drunke bloud warme with the best treacle or mithridate.” He also says that the smell of the flowers is injurious to women who are about to become mothers. The Green Dragon (Arum Dracontium), a native of China, Japan, and America, possesses a root which is prescribed as a very strong emmenagogue. There is a species of Dragon which grows in the morasses about Magellan’s Strait, whose flowers exhibit the appearance of an ulcer, and exhale so strong an odour of putrid flesh, that flesh-flies resort to it to deposit their eggs. Another Dragon plant is the Dracontium polyphyllum, a native of Surinam and Japan, where they prepare a medicine from the acrid roots, which they call Konjakf, and esteem as a great emmenagogue: it is used there to procure abortion. Dracontium fœtidum, Fetid Dragon, or Skunk-weed, flourishes in the swamps of North America, and has obtained its nickname from its rank smell, resembling that of a Skunk or Pole-cat. Dragon’s Head (Dracocephalum) is a name applied to several plants. The Moldavian Dragon’s Head is often called Moldavian or Turk’s Balm. The Virginian Dragon’s Head is named by the French, La Cataleptique, from its use in palsy and kindred diseases. The Canary Dragon’s Head, a native of the Canary Islands, is called (improperly) Balm of Gilead, from its fine odour when rubbed. The old writers called it Camphorosma and Cedronella, and ascribed to it, as to other Dragon plants, the faculty of being a remedy for the bites and stings of venomous beasts, as well as for the bites of mad Dogs. The Tarragon (Artemisia Dracunculus), “the little Dragon,” is the Dragon plant of Germany and the northern nations, and the Herbe au Dragon of the French. The ancient herbalists affirmed that the seed of the Flax put into a Radish-root or Sea Onion, and so set, would bring forth the herb Tarragon. The Snake Weed was called by the ancients, Dragon and Little Dragon, and the Sneezewort, Dragon of the Woods. The Snap-dragon appears to have been so named merely from the shape of its corolla, but in many places it is said to have a supernatural influence, and to possess the power of destroying charms.

Snakes are represented by the Fritillaria Meleagris, which is called Snake’s Head, on account of its petals being marked like Snakes’ scales. The Sea Grass (Ophiurus incurvatus) is known as Snake’s Tail, and the Bistort (Polygonum Bistorta) is Snake Weed.

Vipers have the Echium vulgare dedicated to them under the name of Viper’s Bugloss, a plant supposed to cure the bite of these reptiles; and the Scorzonera edulis, or Viper’s Grass, a herb also considered good for healing wounds caused by Vipers.

The Scorpion finds a vegetable representative in the Myosotis, or Scorpion Grass, so named from its spike resembling a Scorpion’s Tail.

It is not surprising to find that Toads and Frogs, living as they do among the herbage, should have several plants named after them. The Toad, according to popular superstition, was the impersonation of the Devil, and therefore it was only fit that poisonous and unwholesome Fungi should be called Toad Stools, the more so as there was a very general belief that Toads were in the habit of sitting on them:—

“The griesly Todestol grown there mought I see,
And loathed paddocks lording on the same.”—Spenser.

Growing in damp places, haunted by Toads croaking and piping to one another, the Equisetum limosum, with its straight, fistulous stalks, has obtained the name of Toad Pipe. The Linaria vulgaris, from its narrow Flax-like leaves, is known as Toad Flax, from a curious mistake of the old herbalists who confounded the Latin words bubo and bufo.

Frogs claim as their especial plants the Frog Bit (Morsus ranæ), so called because Frogs are supposed to eat it; Frog’s Lettuce (Potamogeton densus); Frog Grass (Salicornia herbacea); and Frog Foot, a name originally assigned to the Vervain (the leaf of which somewhat resembles a Frog’s foot); but now transferred to the Duck Meat, Lemna.

Bees are recognised in the Delphinium grandiflorum, or Bee Larkspur; the Galeopsis Tetrahit, or Bee Nettle; the Ophrys apifera, or Bee Orchis; and the Daucus Carota, or Bee’s Nest.

### CHAPTER XIII.
The Doctrine of Plant Signatures.

William Coles, in his ‘Art of Simpling’ (a work published in the year 1656), abandoning for awhile practical instruction, moralises thus:—“Though sin and Sathan have plunged mankinde into an Ocean of Infirmities, yet the mercy of God, which is over all His workes, maketh Grasse to grow upon the Mountaines, and Herbes for the use of men; and hath not only stamped upon them a distinct forme, but also given them particular Signatures, whereby a man may read, even in legible characters, the use of them.” This ancient Doctrine of Signatures was an ingenious system elaborated for discovering from certain marks or appearances on the various portion of a plant’s structure, the supposed medicinal virtue attached to it. A good illustration is to be found in the following passage, translated from P. Lauremberg’s Apparatus Plantarum:—“The seed of Garlic is black; it obscures the eyes with blackness and darkness. This is to be understood of healthy eyes, but those which are dull through vicious humidity, from these Garlic drives this viciousness away. The tunic of Garlic is ruddy; it expels blood. It has a hollow stalk, and it helps affections of the wind-pipe.”

Many curious details of the system of Plant Signatures are to be found in the works of Porta, Grollius, Schröder, and Kircher: these authorities tell us that there are given, not only in animals, but also in vegetables, certain sure marks, signs, and indications from which their virtues and powers can be inferred by the sagacious and painstaking student. Kircher is of opinion that the Egyptians derived their first knowledge of the elements of medicine from these signs, which they had patiently and closely studied; and in one of his works he enunciates his views in the following passage:—“Since one and all of the members of the human body, under the wise arrangement of Nature, agree or differ with the several objects in the world of creation, by a certain sympathy or antipathy of nature, it follows that there has been implanted by the providence of Nature, both in the several members and in natural objects, a reciprocal instinct, which impels them to seek after those things which are similar and consequently beneficial to themselves, and to avoid and shun those things which are antagonistic or hurtful. Hence has emanated that more recondite part of medicine which compares the Signatures or Characterisms of natural things with the members of the human body, and by magnetically applying like to like produces marvellous effects in the preservation of human health. In this way, the occult properties of plants—first of those that are endowed with life, and secondly of those destitute of life—are indicated by resemblances; for all exhibit to man, by their Signatures and Characterisms, both their powers, by which they can heal, and the diseases in which they are useful. Not only by their parts (as the root, stem, leaf, flower, fruit, and seed), but also by their actions and qualities (such as their retaining or shedding their leaves, their offspring, number, beauty or deformity, form, and colour), they indicate what kind of service they can render to man, and what are the particular members of the human body to which they are specially appropriate.”

As examples of the practical working of the system of Plant Signatures, Kircher tells us that if the root of the Chelidonium be placed in white wine, it is rendered yellow, resembling bilious humour, and thus discloses a sure and infallible remedy against yellow jaundice. He remarks that he had learned this by personal experience, having advised some persons suffering from that malady to try Chelidonium as a cure; and that as a result they were freed from the disease. Persons liable to apoplexy are said to have a line resembling an anchor traced in their hands. The plant Acorus has a similar mark in its leaves, and is a highly-approved remedy for apoplexy. So again, a certain line or mark is to be found in the hands of persons suffering from colic, similar in character to an outline found traced in the foliage of the Malobathrum, a plant which will afford relief to patients suffering from the disorder. Hellebore, which emits a most disagreeable odour, possesses the property of absorbing offensive smells and expelling them. Dracontium, or Great Dragon, a plant which bears a resemblance to a dragon, is a most effectual preservation against serpents; Pliny averring that serpents will not come near anyone carrying this plant.

Other examples of the application of the Doctrine of Signatures are not difficult to be found among the quaintly-named plants enumerated in English herbals. The Lung-wort (Pulmonaria), spotted with tubercular scars, was a specific for consumption. The Bullock’s Lung-wort (Verbascum Thapsis), so called from the resemblance of its leaf to a dewlap, was employed as a cure for the pneumonia of bullocks. The Liver-wort (Marchantia polymorpha), liver-shaped in its green fructification, was a specific for bilious complaints. The Blood-root (Tormentilla), which derives its name from the red colour of its roots, was adopted as a cure for the bloody flux. The throat-like corolla of the Throat-wort (Campanula Trachelium), better known as the Canterbury Bell, caused it to be administered for bronchitis. Tutsan (Hypericum androsæmum) was used to stop bleeding, because the juice of its ripe capsule is of a claret colour. Brunella (now spelt Prunella) was called Brown-wort, having brownish leaves and purple-blue flowers, and was in consequence supposed to cure a kind of quinsy, called in German die braune. This plant has a corolla, the profile of which is suggestive of a bill-hook, and therefore it was called Carpenter’s-herb, and supposed to heal the wounds inflicted by edge-tools. Pimpinella Saxifraga, Alchemilla arvensis, and the genus Saxifraga, plants which split rocks by growing in their cracks, have been named “Breakstones,” and were administered in cases of calculus. Clary was transformed into Clear-eye, Godes-eie, Seebright, and Oculus Christi, and eye-salves were consequently made of it. Burstwort was thought efficacious in ruptures. The Scorpion-grass, or Forget-Me-Not (Myosotis), whose flower-spike is somewhat suggestive of a scorpion’s tail, was an antidote to the sting of that or other venomous creatures. The Briony, which bears in its root a mark significative of a dropsical man’s feet, was adopted as a cure for dropsy. The Moon-daisy averted lunacy; and the Birth-wort, Fig-wort, Kidney-vetch, Nipple-wort, and Spleen-wort were all appropriated as their names suggest, on account of fancied resemblances. The Toad-flax (Linaria), it may here be pointed out, owes its name to a curious mistake on the part of some believer in the Doctrine of Signatures. According to Dodoens, it was useful in the treatment of a complaint called buboes, and received its Latin name, Bubonium. A confusion between the words bubo and bufo (Latin for toad) gave rise to its present name of Toad-flax; and soon arose legends of sick or wounded toads seeking this plant and curing themselves with its leaves.

The general rules that guided the founders of the system of Plant Signatures, which were supposed to reveal the occult powers and virtues of vegetables, would seem to have been as under:—

Vegetables, as herbs and plants, or their fruit, seed, flowers, &c., which resemble some human member in figure, colour, quality, and consistence, were considered to be most adapted to that member, and to possess medical properties specially applicable to it.

All herbs or plants that in flowers or juice bear a resemblance to one or other of the four humours, viz., blood, yellow bile, phlegm, and black bile, were deemed suitable for treating the same humour, by increasing or expelling it.

All yellow-hued plants, if they were eatable, were thought to increase yellow bile. In this category were included Orach, Melons, Crocus, yellow Turnips, and all other yellow plants which have a sweet flavour.

Plants or herbs of a dull blackish colour, or of a brownish or a spotted hue, were held to be serviceable in the treatment of black bile. Some of them had a tendency to increase it, while others assisted in carrying it off. Thus, Smilax, Mandragora, many kinds of Parsley, Nightshade, and Poppies, having partly black, ash-coloured, and spotted flowers, intermixed with pale tints, by causing bad dreams, excite giddiness, vertigo, and epilepsy. Napellus, also, indicates in a most marked manner its poisonous and virulent nature, for its flower represents the skull of a dead man.

Plants which bear white flowers and have thick juice, which often grow in moist and extremely humid places, and which resemble phlegm or rheum, were thought to increase the very humours they represented. Others of a drier temperament were thought to correct and purify the same. Milky plants, as Tithymallus, Polygala, Sonchus, and Britalzar Ægyptiaca, were supposed to increase and accumulate milk in nurses.

Some plants of a red colour were believed to increase blood; some to correct and purify it; and others to benefit hemorrhoidal and dysenteric affections from a similarity of colour.

Plants of a mixed colour, as they unite in themselves a diversity of temperaments, were thought to produce a diversity of effects; whence two-coloured herbs were believed to possess and exercise a double virtue. On this principle, diverse colours were said to cure diverse humours in the human body; for example, Tripolium, Panacæa, and Triphera were considered beneficial for all humours.

Plants whose decoction and infusion, as well as colour and consistence, were like some humour of the human body, were declared to be appropriate for the purpose of evacuating that humour by attraction, or increasing it by incorporation.

Certain plants were deemed to represent some disease or morbid condition, and were judged to be helpful in its cure. Thus those were administered in cases of calculus which represented stones, such as Milium solis, the root of the White Saxifrage, the shells of Nuts, and Nuts themselves. Spotted plants and herbs were thought to eradicate spots, and scaly plants to remove scales. Perforated herbs were selected for the cure of wounds and perforations of the body. Plants which exude gums and resins were considered available for the treatment of pus and matter. Swelling plants were thought good for tumours; those that permit the cutting or puncturing of the stem were employed for closing up wounds; and those that shed bark and skin were thought adapted for the cleansing of the skin.

Accordingly as plants and herbs exhibited peculiarities in their actions, so were they supposed to operate on man. Thus, sterile plants, such as Lettuce, Fern, Willow, Savin, and many others, were believed to conduce to the procuring of sterility in men; whilst salacious and fecund plants were considered to confer fecundity. On the same principle, long-lived and evergreen plants were said to procure vigour for the human body.

Helvetius has left a list of classified herbs and plants which in his time were considered by experts in herbcraft to exhibit peculiar marks and Signatures by which they could be identified with the several parts and members of the human body. This may be said to have formed the basis of the system embraced in the Doctrine of Plant Signatures, and as it epitomises the results of the protracted and laborious researches of the old herbalists, who may fairly be said to have laid the foundations of our present system of Botany, it has been thought worth while to give an abbreviation of it.

The Head. | Antirrhinum, Crocus, Geranium, Walnuts, Lily of the Valley, Marjoram, Poppy, Violet, Rose, Lime-blossom, the genus Brassica, &c.
The Hair. | Asparagus, Goat’s-beard, Fennel, Nigella, Flax, Tree Musk, the Vine, and Vine-roots, &c.
The Eyes. | The flowers of Acacia, Euphrasy, Daisy, Bean, Hyacinth, Geranium, Mallow, Narcissus, Hyacinth, Ranunculus, Cornflower, &c.
The Ears. | Bear’s Ear (Auricula ursi), Mountain Bindweed, Cyclamen Doronicum, Gentian, rough Viper’s Bugloss, Hypericum, Organy, Egyptian Beans, &c.
The Tongue. | Horse-tongue (Hippoglossum), Adder’s-tongue (Ophioglossum), Hound’s-tongue (Cynoglossum), Hart’s-tongue, Frog-bit, Grass of Parnassus, Prunella, Salvia, Sempervivum, &c.
The Teeth. | The leaves of Fir and Juniper, Sunflower-seed, Toothed Moss (Muscus denticulatus), Toothed Violet (Dentaria), Dandelion (Dens Leonis), &c.
The Heart. | Borage, Motherwort (Cardiaca), Malaca Beans (Anacardium), Strawberries, Pomegranate-blossom, Hepatica, Violet, Peony, Rose, Iris, Egyptian Lotus, &c.
The Lungs. | Lung-wort, (Pulmonaria), Beet, the stalks of Anise, Garden Teasel, Cresses, Fennel, Curled Lettuce, Scabious, Rhubarb, Valerian, the Sea Moss Muscus marinus virens latifolius, &c.
The Liver. | Noble Liver-wort (Hepatica trifolia), Ground Liver-wort (Hepatica terrestris), Garden Endive, Portulaca, Aloe, Our Lady’s Thistle (Carduus Mariæ), Gentian, Lettuce, Alpine Sanicle, &c.
The Bladder. | Bladder-wort, Winter Cherry, Black Hellebore, Nasturtium, Persicaria, Leaves of Senna, root of True Rhubarb, broad-leaved Tithymallus, Botrys, &c.
The Spleen. | Spleenwort or Ceterach (Asplenium), Agrimony, Shepherd’s Purse, Dandelion, Devil’s Bit Scabious, Fern, Broom, Hawk-weed, Turnip, Treacle Mustard, &c.
The Stomach. | Roots of Acorus, Cyclamen, Elecampane, Iris, and Galingale, Earth-nut, Parsnip, Radish, Chives, Ginger, &c.
The Kidneys. | Kidney-wort, Agnus Castus, seeds of Broom, Bombax, Jasmine, and Lupine, Beans, Currants, Ground Ivy, root of Leopard’s Bane, &c.
The Intestines, &c. | Navel-wort, Chickweed, Briony, Dodder, Bitter-sweet (Nightshade), Fenugreek, Nasturtium, Honeysuckle, Chamomile-flowers, Alpine Sanicle, roots of Polypody, &c.
The Hands, Fingers, and Nerves. | Agnus Castus, Garlick, Briony, Shepherd’s Purse, Fig, Geranium, Ash-bark, Cinquefoil (Heptaphyllum), Tormentilla, Water Hellebore, Lupine, Melon, Ophrys, Hoary Clover, Satyrion, Plantain, Currants, Sanicle, Soap-wort, Wolf’s Bane, Swallow-wort, Vitis Idæa, Asiatic Ranunculus, with gummy root, &c.

The Doctrine of Signatures did not exclusively apply to the medicinal virtues of herbs and plants: for example, Hound’s-tongue Cynoglossum officinale, named from the shape and softness of its leaf, was (if we may believe William Coles) thought to “tye the tongues of hounds, so that they shall not bark at you, if it be laid under the bottom of your feet, as Miraldus writeth.” Garlic (from the Anglo-Saxon words gár, a spear, and leác, a plant) was, from its acute tapering leaves, marked out as the war plant of the warriors and poets of the North. The heavenly blue of the flower of the Germander Speedwell won for it the Welsh appellation of the Eye of Christ. Even abstract virtues were to be learnt by an attentive study of the Signatures of certain plants, according to the dictum of that loyal and godly herbalist Robert Turner, who naively tells us that “God hath imprinted upon the Plants, Herbs, and Flowers, as it were in Hieroglyphicks, the very Signature of their Vertues; as the learned Grollius and others well observe: as the Nutmeg, being cut, resembles the Brain; the Papaver erraticum, or red Poppy Flower, resembleth at its bottom the setling of the Blood in the Plurisie; and how excellent is that Flower in Diseases of the Plurisie, and Surfeits hath sufficiently been experienced.” In the Heliotrope and Marigold subjects may learn their duty to their Sovereign: which his Sacred Majesty King Charles the First mentions in his Princely Meditations, walking in a Garden in the Isle of Wight, in the following words, viz.:—

“‘The Marigold observes the Sun
More than my subjects me have done,’ &c.”

That great naturalist, John Ray, whilst expressing his disbelief of the Doctrine of Plant Signatures as a whole, admitted that there were tangible grounds for the formation of the system. He wrote:—“Howbeit, I will not deny but that the noxious and malignant plants do, many of them, discover something of their nature by the sad and melancholick visage of their leaves, flowers, or fruits. And that I may not leave that head wholly untouched, one observation I shall add, relating to the virtues of plants, in which I think is something of truth; that is, that there are, by the wise dispensation of Providence, such species of plants produced in every country, as are made proper and convenient for the meat and medicine of the men and animals that are bred and inhabit therein. Insomuch that Solenander writes that, from the frequency of the plants that spring up naturally in any region, he could easily gather what endemical diseases the inhabitants thereof are subject to. So in Denmark, Friesland, and Holland, where the scurvy usually reigns, the proper remedy thereof, Scurvy-grass, doth plentifully grow.”

#### The Old Herbals and Herbalists.

It is impossible to make an attentive examination of the old Herbals without being astonished at the extraordinary number and nature of the ills which their authors professed to cure by means of plants and simples. Every conceivable disease and ailment appears to be enumerated, and each has a number of specifics allotted for its treatment and cure. The contents of these ancient works, indeed, are apt to heat the imagination, and to cause one to form a conception that the merrie England of our forefathers was a land swarming with wild beasts, so venomous in their nature, and ferocious in their proclivities, that the unfortunate inhabitants were constantly being grievously maimed and wounded by their malicious “bitings.” Be this as it may, however, it is evident that the old herbalists deemed themselves fully equal to any emergency. Leopards, Wolves, and venomous beasts of all kinds, as well as Dragons, Serpents, Vipers, and Scorpions, could all, by means of herbs, be driven away, kept at bay, or killed, and the venom of their bites be quickly and effectually cured. Such simple things as the stings of Hornets, Wasps, and Bees, were of course easily extracted by men who professed themselves able and willing to draw out arrow-heads from wounds, or remove broken bones, glue them together, and cover them when bare of flesh. They could provide counterpoisons against deadly medicines, poisoned arrows, noxious herbs, and the bitings and stingings of venomous creatures; they could cure the bites of sea Dragons and mad Dogs, and could keep Dogs from growing great. They could cause troublesome and dangerous dreams, and they could cure nightmare. They could drive away dulness and melancholy, and consume proud and superfluous flesh. They could preserve the eyesight, “helpe blacke eies comming by blowes,” and take away redness and yellowness. They could prevent the hair falling off, and restore it to the bald pate, and knew how to turn it yellow, red, or black. They could cause hens to lay plentifully, and refresh a weary horse. They could cure lunatics, relieve madness, and purge melancholy; to say nothing of counteracting witchcraft and the malignant influence of the mysterious Evil Eye. They could destroy warts, remove freckles, and beautify young wenches’ faces. In fine, the herbalist of old was one

“Who knew the cause of everie maladie,
Were it of colde or hote, or moist or drie.”

A remarkable characteristic of the herbarists (as they were called of yore) was a habit of ascribing extraordinary and fabulous properties to the herbs and plants whose merits they descanted upon. Just as the Druids taught the people of their time to call the sacred Mistletoe the “All-heal,” and to look upon it as a panacea for all bodily ailments, so did the herbalists, in the pages of their ponderous tomes, set forth the marvellous virtues of Betony, Agrimony, Angelica, Garlic, Fennel, Sage, Rue, and other favourite medicinal plants. Johannes de Mediolano, a doctor, of the Academy of Salerno, once wrote of Rue, that it diminishes the force of love in man, and, on the contrary, increases the flame in women. When eaten raw, it both clears the sight and the perceptions of the mind, and when cooked it destroys fleas. The English herbalists called it Herb Grace and Serving-men’s Joy, because of the multiplicity of ailments that it was warranted to cure; Mithridates used the herb as a counterpoison to preserve himself against infection; and Gerarde records that Serpents are driven away at the smell of Rue if it be burned, and that “when the Weesell is to fight with the Serpent, shee armeth herselfe by eating Rue against the might of the Serpent.” The virtues of Rue, however, are cast into the shade by those of Sage. Says witty Alphonse Karr—“Rue is nothing in comparison with Sage. Sage preserves the human race; and the whole school of Salerno, after a long enumeration of the virtues of Sage, seriously exclaims: ‘How can it happen that a man who has Sage in his garden yet ends by dying?’” Perhaps this exclamation was the foundation of the English proverb—

“He that eats Sage in May
Shall live for aye.”

Regarding the wondrous curative properties of Betony, Antonius Musa, physician to the Emperor Augustus, wrote a volume setting forth the excellencies of the herb, which he demonstrated would cure no less than forty-seven different disorders; and in England an old advice to the sufferer is, “Sell your coat, and buy Betony.” Agrimony is another herb whose praises were loudly proclaimed by the herbalists; it formed an ingredient in most of the old-fashioned herb teas, and Drayton speaks of it as “All-heal, and so named of right.” Of Angelica, or Holy Ghost, Parkinson writes that it is “so goode an herbe that there is no part thereof but is of much use.” Fennel, in addition to its uses as a medicine, was recommended by old writers, when boiled in wine, as a counterpoison for use by such as had been bitten by those terrible reptiles, serpents, and scorpions that seem to have so exercised the ancient herbalists. Treacle-Mustard, or Triacle, was also highly esteemed as a cure for “all those that were bitten or stung by venomous beasts, or had drunk poison, or were infected with pestilence: it formed one of seventy-three ingredients in making “Venice treacle”—a famous vermifuge and antipoison in the Middle Ages. The Vervain, or Holy Herb, was credited with almost supernatural healing powers. English Mercury was called All-good; and other herbs obtained the names of All-heal, Clown’s All-heal, Self-heal, Poor-man’s Treacle, Poor-man’s Parmacetty, the Blessed Herb, Grace of God, Master-Wort, Ploughman’s Spikenard, &c., on account of the numerous virtues which the herbalists had discovered in them. One of these old worthies (the compiler of a Herbal, and a believer in astrology) has, indeed, stated in rhyme, his conviction that there was no disease but what would yield to the virtues of herbs and the skill of the herbalist. “In his book,” he confidently says—

“He hath a method plain devised,
All parts of it, so curiously comprised;
That vulgar men, which have but skill to read,
May be their own physicians at need;
The better sort are hereby taught, how all
Things springing from earth’s bowels safely shall
By love or hatred (as the Stars dispose)
Each sickness cure, that in the body grows.”

The poet Michael Drayton has drawn the portrait of an ancient simpler, and has given a list of the remedies of which he made the most frequent use; the lines are to be found in his ‘Polyolbion,’ and as they contain examples of herbs selected under the system of the Doctrine of Plant Signatures, they may be appropriately introduced at the conclusion of this chapter:—

“But, absolutely free,
His happy time he spends the works of God to see,
In those so sundry herbs which there in plenty grow,
Whose sundry strange effects he only seeks to know;
And in a little maund, being made of Osiers small,
Which serveth him to do full many a thing withal,
He very choicely sorts his simples, got abroad;
Here finds he on an Oak rheum-purging Polypode;
And in some open place that to the sun doth lie,
He Fumitory gets, and Eyebright for the eye;
The Yarrow wherewithal he stays the wound-made gore,
The healing Tutsan then, and Plantaine for a sore;
And hard by them, again, he holy Vervain finds,
Which he about his head that hath the megrim binds;
The wonder-working Dill he gets not far from these,
Which curious women use in many a nice disease;
For them that are with Newts, or Snakes, or Adders stung
He seeketh out a herb, that is called Adder’s-tongue;
As Nature it ordain’d its own like hurt to cure,
And sportive did herself to niceties inure.
Valerian then he crops, and purposely doth stamp
To apply unto the place that’s haled with the cramp;
The Chickweed cures the heat that in the face doth rise,
For physic some again he inwardly applies;
For comforting the spleen and liver, gets for juice
Pale Horehound, which he holds of most especial use.
And for the labouring wretch that’s troubled with a cough,
Or stopping of the breath by phlegm that’s hard and tough,
Campana here he crops, approved wondrous good;
Or Comfrey unto him that’s bruised, spitting blood;
And for the falling ill by Five-leafe doth restore,
And melancholy cures by sovereign Hellebore:
Of these most helpful herbs yet tell we but a few
To those unnumbered sort of simples here that grew,
What justly to set down even Dodon short doth fall,
Nor skilful Gerarde yet shall ever find them all.”

### CHAPTER XIV.
Plants and the Planets.

Two centuries ago there existed a very general belief that every plant was under the direct influence of a particular Planet, and therefore that all the details connected with its cultivation and utilisation were to be conducted with a strict regard to this supposition. Aubrey has recorded his opinion, that if a plant “be not gathered according to the rules of astrology, it hath little or no virtue in it;” and the Jesuit Rapin, in his Latin poem on ‘Gardens,’ says, with respect to flowers—

“This frequent charge I give, whene’er you sow
The flow’ry kind, be studious first to know
The monthly tables, and with heedful eye
Survey the lofty volumes of the sky;
Observe the tokens of foreboding Stars,
What store of wind and rain the Moon prepares;
What weather Eurus or moist Auster blows,
What both in east and west the Sun foreshows;
What aid from Helice the trees obtain,
What from Boötes with his tardy wain;
Whether the wat’ry Pleiades with show’rs
Kindly refresh alone, or drown the flow’rs;
For Stars neglected fatal oft we find,
The Gods to their dominion have assign’d
The products of our earth and labours of mankind.”

Michael Drayton, in whose time the doctrine of planetary influence on plants was generally accepted, says, in reference to the longevity of antediluvian men:—

“Besides, in medicine simples had the power
That none need then the planetary hour
To helpe their working, they so juiceful were.”

Culpeper, who was a profound believer in astrology, has given at the commencement of his ‘British Herbal and Family Physician,’ a list of some five hundred plants, and the names of the Planets which govern them; and in his directions as to the plucking of leaves for medical purposes, the old herbalist and physician remarks:—“Such as are astrologers (and indeed none else are fit to make physicians) such I advise: let the planet that governs the herb be angular, and the stronger the better; if they can, in herbs of Saturn, let Saturn be in the ascendant; in the herb of Mars, let Mars be in the mid-heaven, for in those houses they delight; let the Moon apply to them by good aspect, and let her not be in the houses of her enemies; if you cannot well stay till she apply to them, let her apply to a Planet of the same triplicity; if you cannot meet that time neither, let her be with a fixed Star of their nature.”

The classification of Plants under the planets Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, Mercury, the Sun, and the Moon, appears to have been made according to the Signatures or outward appearances of the plants themselves. The stalks, stems, branches, roots, foliage, flowers, odour, taste, native places, death, and medical virtues, were also considered; and, according to the character of the plant thus deduced, it was placed under the government of the particular Planet with which it was considered to be most in consonance.

Plants allotted to Saturn had their Leaves: hairy, hard, dry, parched, coarse, and of ill-favoured appearance. Flowers: Unprepossessing, gloomy, dull, greenish, faded or dirty white, pale red, invariably hirsute, prickly, and disagreeable. Roots: Spreading widely in the earth and rambling around in discursive fashion. Odour: Fœtid, putrid, muddy.

Jupiter.—Leaves: Smooth, even, slightly cut and pointed, the veins not prominent, and the lines not strongly marked. Colour, greyish blue-green. Flowers: Graceful, pleasing, bright, succulent, transparent, ruddy, flesh-colour, blue, yellow. Roots: Rather small, with short hairy filaments, spread about in the ground. Odour: Highly subtle, grateful to the brain; the kernels comforting; easily fermented.

Mars.—Leaves: Hard, long, somewhat heavy, pointed and pendulous, harsh and hot to the tongue, not of good appearance. Flowers: Of a colour between yellow, vermilion, or blue, green, purple, red, changing quickly, abundance of flowers and seeds. Roots: Highly fibrous and creeping underground. Odour: Oppressive to the brain, potent, sharp, acrid.

Venus.—Leaves: Large, handsome, bright, rich green or roseate, soft, plentiful. Flowers: Pleasing to the eyes, white, blue, rosy, charming, fine, abundant. Roots: Of early growth, but not deeply fixed. Quickly and freely produced. Odour: Subtle, delightful, pungent, refreshing to the brain.

Mercury.—Leaves: Different kinds, but pleasing to the eye. Flowers: Of various descriptions and colours, refreshing, agreeable, and pleasant. Roots: Abiding deep in the earth, and spreading far and wide. Odour: Highly subtle and penetrating, refreshing to the heart and brain.

The Sun.—Leaves: Succulent, with stout stalks, deeply veined, pleasant green or tawny, with reddish stalks. Flowers: Yellow and gold, or purple, handsome, glittering, and radiant. Roots: Strong, deeply fixed in the earth, but not laterally. Odour: Agreeable, acceptable, and pungent, strong, restorative to brain and eyes.

The Moon.—Leaves: Pale, highly succulent, pith thick, firm, strongly-developed veins, bottle-green. Flowers: Pale yellow or greenish, watery, mellifluous, but uninteresting and without beauty. Roots: Penetrating easily through water and earth, not durable, and easily decayed, spreading neither thickly nor deeply. Odour: Disagreeable, almost none, without pungency, redolent of the earth, rain, or soft savour of honey.

According to Indian mythology, herbs are placed under the special protection of Mitra, the Sun. De Gubernatis tells us that there are several Indian plants named after the great luminary. In the Grecian Pantheon, the Solar-god, Apollo, possessed a knowledge of all the herbs. It was to Phœbus, the Sun-god, that poor Clytie lost her heart, and, when changed into a flower, held firmly by the root, she still turned to the Sun she loved, “and, changed herself, still kept her love unchanged.” As to the particular Sunflower, Turnsole, Heliotrope, or Solsequium that is the floral embodiment of the love-sick nymph, readers must be referred to the disquisition under the heading “Sunflower.” De Gubernatis gives it as his opinion, that Clytie’s flower is the Helianthemum roseum of De Candolle. In a previous chapter, certain plants have been noticed which were supposed by the ancients to have been specially under the domination of the Sun and Moon. According to the dictum of wizards and wise folk, plants possessing magical properties must as a general rule be gathered, if not by moonlight, yet at any rate before sunrise, for the first appearance of the Sun’s rays immediately dispels all enchantment, and drives back the spirits to their subterranean abodes.

We are told in Deuteronomy xxxiii., 14, that precious things are put forth by the Moon, but precious fruits by the Sun; and it is certainly very remarkable that, although mankind in all ages have regarded, and even worshipped, the Sun as being the supreme and ruling luminary, from whose glorious life-giving rays, vegetation of all kinds drew its very existence, yet that an idea should have sprung up, and taken root widely and deeply, that the growth and decay of plants were associated intimately with the waxing and waning of the Moon. We have seen how the plant kingdom was parcelled out by the astrologers, and consigned to the care of different Planets; but, despite this, the Moon was held to have a singular and predominant influence over vegetation, and it was supposed that there existed a sympathy between growing and declining nature and the Moon’s wax and wane. Bacon seems to have considered that even the “braine of man waxeth moister and fuller upon the Full of the Moone;” and, therefore, he continues, “it were good for those that have moist braines, and are great drinkers, to take fume of Lignum, Aloes, Rose-Mary, Frankincense, &c., about the Full of the Moone.” He also tells us, in his Natural History, that “the influences of the Moon are four: the drawing forth of heat, the inducing of putrefaction, the moisture, and the exciting of the motions of spirits.”

In respect to this last influence, he goes on to say, “You must note that the growth of hedges, herbs, haire, &c., is caused from the Moone, by exciting of the spirits as well as by increase of the moisture. But for spirits in particular the great instance is lunacies.” This lunar influence which Bacon speaks of was, as already pointed out, fully recognised in olden times, and a belief was even current that the Moon specially watched over vegetation, and that when she was propitious—that is, during her growth—she produced medicinal herbs; when she was not propitious—that is to say, during her wane—she imbued herbs with poisons; her humidity being, perhaps, more injurious than otherwise.

In old almanacks we find the supremacy of the Moon over the plant kingdom fully admitted, albeit in a jargon which is rather puzzling. Thus, in the ‘Husbandman’s Practice or Prognostication for Ever,’ the reader is advised “to set, sow seeds, graft, and plant, the Moone being in Taurus, Virgo, or Capricorne, and all kinds of Corne in Cancer, to graft in March, at the Moone’s increase, she being in Taurus or Capricorne.” Again, in Mr. Wing’s Almanack for 1661, occurs the following passage:—“It is a common observation in astrology, and confirmed by experience, that what Corn or tree soever are set or sown when the Sun or Moon is eclipsed, and the infortunate planets predominate, seldom or never come to good. And again he saith thus:—It is a common and certain observation also, that if any corn, seed, or plant be either set or sown within six hours either before or after the full Moon in Summer, or before or after the new Moon in Winter, having joined with the cosmical rising of Arcturus and Orion, the Hædi and the Siculi, it is subject to blasting and canker.”

As an illustration of the predominance given to the Moon over the other planets in matters pertaining to plant culture, it is worth noticing that, although Culpeper, in his ‘Herbal,’ places the Apple under Venus, yet the Devonshire farmers have from time immemorial made it a rule to gather their Apples for storing at the wane of the Moon; the reason being that, during the Moon’s increase, it is thought that the Apples are full, and will not therefore keep. It is said that if timber be felled when the Moon is on the increase, it will decay; and that it should always be cut when the Moon is on the wane. No reason can be assigned for this; yet the belief is common in many countries, and what is still more strange, professional woodcutters, whose occupation is to fell timber, aver, as the actual result of their observation, that the belief is well founded. It was formerly interwoven in the Forest Code of France, and, unless expunged by recent alterations, is so still. The same opinion obtains in the German forests, and is said to be held in those of Brazil and Yucatan. The theory given to account for this supposed fact is, that as the Moon grows, the sap rises, and the wood is therefore less dense than when the Moon is waning, because at that time the sap declines. The belief in the Moon’s influence as regards timber extends to vegetables, and was at one time universal in England, although, at the present day, the theory is less generally entertained in our country than abroad, where they act upon the maxim that root crops should be planted when the Moon is decreasing, and plants such as Beans, Peas, and others, which bear the crops on their branches, between new and full Moon. Throughout Germany, the rule is that Rye should be sown as the Moon waxes; but Barley, Wheat, and Peas, when it wanes.

The wax and wane of the belief in lunar influence on plant-life among our own countrymen may be readily traced by reference to old books on husbandry and gardening.

In ‘The Boke of Husbandry,’ by Mayster Fitzherbarde, published in 1523, we read with respect to the sowing of Peas, that “moste generally to begyn sone after Candelmasse is good season, so that they be sowen ere the begynnynge of Marche, or sone upon. And specially let them be sowen in the olde of the Mone. For the opinion of old husbandes is, that they shoulde be better codde, and sooner be rype.”

Tusser, in his ‘Five Hundred Points of Husbandry,’ published in 1562, says, in his quaint verse—

“Sowe Peason and Beans in the wane of the Moone,
Who soweth them sooner, he soweth too soone;
That they with the planet may rest and rise,
And flourish with bearing, most plentiful wise.”

Commenting on that “Point,” the editor of an edition of Tusser’s poem printed in 1744, says: “It must be granted the Moon is an excellent clock, and if not the cause of many surprising accidents, gives a just indication of them, whereof this Pease and Beans may be one instance; for Pease and Beans sown during the increase do run more to hawm or straw, and during the declension more to cod, according to the common consent of countrymen.” Again, as regards grafting, old Tusser writes:—

“In March is good graffing, the skilful do know,
So long as the wind in the East do not blow,
From Moone being changed, til past be the prime,
For graffing and cropping is very good time.”

The editor remarks: “The Prime is the first three days after the New Moon, in which time, or at farthest during the first quarter, our author confines his graffing, probably because the first three days are usually attended with rain.” He confesses, however, he cannot explain the following couplet:—

“The Moone in the wane gather fruit for to last,
But winter fruit gather when Michel is past.”

In the ‘Garden of Eden,’ an old gardening book compiled and issued by Sir Hugh Plat, Knt., in the year 1600, constant allusions are made to the necessity of studying the Moon’s phases in gardening and grafting operations. The worthy knight considered that the Moon would exercise her powers in making single flowers double if only she were respectfully courted. His counsel on this point is as follows:—“Remove a plant of Stock Gilliflowers when it is a little woodded, and not too greene, and water it presently. Doe this three dayes after the full, and remove it twice more before the change. Doe this in barren ground; and likewise, three dayes after the next full Moone, remove again; and then remove once more before the change. Then at the third full Moon, viz., eight dayes after, remove againe, and set it in very rich ground, and this will make it to bring forth a double flower; but if your Stock Gilliflowers once spindle, then you may not remove them. Also you must make Tulippes double in this manner. Some think by cutting them at every full Moone before they beare to make them at length to beare double.”

In ‘The Countryman’s Recreation’ (1640) the author fully recognises the obligation of gardeners to study the Moon in all their principal operations. Says he: “From the first day of the new Moone unto the xiii. day thereof is good for to plant, or graffe, or sow, and for great need some doe take unto the xvii. or xviii. day thereof, and not after, neither graffe nor sow, but as is afore-mentioned, a day or two afore the change, the best signes are Taurus, Virgo, or Capricorne.” And as regards the treatment of fruit trees, he tells us that “trees which come of Nuttes” should be set in the Autumn “in the change or increase of the Moone;” certain grafting manipulations are to be executed “in the increase of the Moone and not lightly after;” fruit, if it is desired of good colour and untouched by frost, ought to be gathered “when the time is faire and dry, and the Moone in her decreasing;” whilst “if ye will cut or gather Grapes, to have them good, and to have good wine thereof, ye shall cut them in the full, or soone after the full, of the Moone, when she is in Cancer, in Leo, in Scorpio, and in Aquarius, the Moone being on the waine and under the earth.”

In ‘The Expert Gardener’ (1640)—a work stated to be “faithfully collected out of sundry Dutch and French authors”—a chapter is entirely devoted to the times and seasons which should be selected “to sow and replant all manner of seeds,” with special reference to the phases of the Moon. As showing how very general must have been the belief in the influence of the Moon on vegetation at that time, the following extract is given:—

> A short Instruction very profitable and necessary for all those that delight in Gardening, to know the Times and Seasons when it is good to sow and replant all manner of Seeds.

> Cabbages must be sowne in February, March, or April, at the waning of the Moone, and replanted also in the decrease thereof.

> Cabbage Lettuce, in February, March, or July, in an old Moone.

> Onions and Leeks must be sowne in February or March, at the waning of the Moone.

> Beets must be sowne in February or March, in a full Moone.

> Coleworts white and greene in February, or March, in an old Moone, it is good to replant them.

> Parsneps must be sowne in February, April, or June, also in an old Moone.

> Radish must be sowne in February, March, or June, in a new Moone.

> Pompions must be sowne in February, March, or June, also in a new Moone.

> Cucumbers and Mellons must be sowne in February, March, or June, in an old Moone.

> Spinage must be sowne in February or March, in an old Moone.

> Parsley must be sowne in February or March, in a full Moone.

> Fennel and Annisseed must be sowne in February or March, in a full Moone.

> White Cycory must be sowne in February, March, July, or August, in a full Moone.

> Carduus Benedictus must be sowne in February, March, or May, when the Moone is old.

> Basil must be sowne in March, when the Moone is old.

> Purslane must be sowne in February or March, in a new Moone.

> Margeram, Violets, and Time must be sowne in February, March, or April, in a new Moone.

> Floure-gentle, Rosemary, and Lavender, must be sowne in February or April, in a new Moone.

> Rocket and Garden Cresses must be sowne in February, in a new Moone.

> Savell must be sowne in February or March, in a new Moone.

> Saffron must be sowne in March, when the Moone is old.

> Coriander and Borage must be sowne in February or March, in a new Moone.

> Hartshorne and Samphire must be sowne in February, March, or April, when the Moone is old.

> Gilly-floures, Harts-ease, and Wall-floures, must be sowne in March or April, when the Moone is old.

> Cardons and Artochokes must be sowne in April or March, when the Moone is old.

> Chickweed must be sowne in February or March, in the full of the Moone.

> Burnet must be sowne in February or March, when the Moone is old.

> Double Marigolds must be sowne in February or March, in a new Moone.

> Isop and Savorie must be sowne in March when the Moone is old.

> White Poppey must be sowne in February or March, in a new Moone.

> Palma Christi must be sowne in February, in a new Moone.

> Sparages and Sperage is to be sowne in February, when the Moone is old.

> Larks-foot must be sowne in February, when the Moone is old.

> Note that at all times and seasons, Lettuce, Raddish, Spinage and Parsneps may be sowne.

> Note, also, from cold are to be kept Coleworts, Cabbage, Lettuce, Basill, Cardons, Artochokes, and Colefloures.

In ‘The English Gardener’ (1683) and ‘The Dutch Gardener’ (1703) many instructions are given as to the manner of treating plants with special regard to the phases of the Moon; and Rapin, in his poem on Gardens, has the following lines:—

“If you with flow’rs would stock the pregnant earth,
Mark well the Moon propitious to their birth:
For earth the silent midnight queen obeys,
And waits her course, who, clad in silver rays,
Th’ eternal round of times and seasons guides,
Controls the air, and o’er the winds presides.
Four days expir’d you have your time to sow,
Till to the full th’ increasing Moon shall grow;
This past, your labour you in vain bestow:
Nor let the gard’ner dare to plant a flow’r
While on his work the heav’ns ill-boding low’r;
When Moons forbid, forbidding Moons obey,
And hasten when the Stars inviting beams display.”

John Evelyn, in his ‘Sylva, or a Discourse on Forest Trees,’ first published in 1662, remarks on the attention paid by woodmen to the Moon’s influence on trees. He says: “Then for the age of the Moon, it has religiously been observed; and that Diana’s presidency in sylvis was not so much celebrated to credit the fictions of the poets, as for the dominion of that moist planet and her influence over timber. For my part, I am not so much inclined to these criticisms, that I should altogether govern a felling at the pleasure of this mutable lady; however, there is doubtless some regard to be had—

> ‘Nor is’t in vain signs’ fall and rise to note.’

The old rules are these: Fell in the decrease, or four days after the conjunction of the two great luminaries; sowe the last quarter of it; or (as Pliny) in the very article of the change, if possible; which hapning (saith he) in the last day of the Winter solstice, that timber will prove immortal. At least should it be from the twentieth to the thirtieth day, according to Columella; Cato, four days after the full, as far better for the growth; nay, Oak in the Summer: but all vimineous trees, silente lunâ, such as Sallows, Birch, Poplar, &c. Vegetius, for ship timber, from the fifteenth to the twenty-fifth, the Moon as before.” In his ‘French Gardener,’ a translation from the French, Evelyn makes a few allusions to the Moon’s influence on gardening and grafting operations, and in his Kalendarium Hortense we find him acknowledging its supremacy more than once; but he had doubtless begun to lose faith in the scrupulous directions bequeathed by the Romans. In his introduction to the ‘Kalendar’ he says:—“We are yet far from imposing (by any thing we have here alledged concerning these menstrual periods) those nice and hypercritical punctillos which some astrologers, and such as pursue these rules, seem to oblige our gard’ners to; as if forsooth all were lost, and our pains to no purpose, unless the sowing and the planting, the cutting and the pruning, were performed in such and such an exact minute of the Moon: In hac autem ruris disciplina non desideratur ejusmodi scrupulositas. [Columella]. There are indeed some certain seasons and suspecta tempora, which the prudent gard’ner ought carefully (as much as in him lies) to prevent: but as to the rest, let it suffice that he diligently follow the observations which (by great industry) we have collected together, and here present him.”

The opinion of John Evelyn, thus expressed, doubtless shook the faith of gardeners in the efficacy of lunar influence on plants, and, as a rule, we find no mention of the Moon in the instructions contained in the gardening books published after his death. It is true that Charles Evelyn, in ‘The Pleasure and Profit of Gardening Improved’ (1717) directs that Stock Gilliflower seeds should be sown at the full of the Moon in April, and makes several other references to the influence of the Moon on these plants; but this is an exception to the general rule, and in ‘The Retired Gardener,’ a translation from the French of Louis Liger, printed in 1717, the ancient belief in the Moon’s supremacy in the plant kingdom received its death-blow. The work referred to was published under the direction of London and Wise, Court Nurserymen to Queen Anne, and in the first portion of it, which is arranged in the form of a conversation between a gentleman and his gardener, occurs the following passage:—

> Gent.—“I have heard several old gardeners say that vigorous trees ought to be prun’d in the Wane, and those that are more sparing of their shoots in the Increase. Their reason is, that the pruning by no means promotes the fruit if it be not done in the Wane. They add that the reason why some trees are so long before they bear fruit is, because they were planted or grafted either in the Increase or Full of the Moon.”

> Gard.—“Most of the old gardeners were of that opinion, and there are some who continue still to be misled by the same error. But ’tis certain that they bear no ground for such an imagination, as I have observ’d, having succeeded in my gardening without such a superstitious observation of the Moon. However, I don’t urge this upon my own authority, but refer my self to M. de la Quintinie, who deserves more to be believed than my self. These are his words:—

> ‘I solemnly declare [saith he] that after a diligent observation of the Moon’s changes for thirty years together, and an enquiry whether they had any influence on gardening, the affirmation of which has been so long established among us, I perceiv’d that it was no weightier than old wives’ tales, and that it has been advanc’d by unexperienc’d gardeners.’

> “And a little after: ‘I have therefore follow’d what appear’d most reasonable, and rejected what was otherwise. In short, graft in what time of the Moon you please, if your graft be good, and grafted in a proper stock, provided you do it like an artist, you will be sure to succeed.... In the same manner [continues he] sow what sorts of grain you please, and plant as you please, in any Quarter of the Moon, I’ll answer for your success; the first and last day of the Moon being equally favourable.’ This is the opinion of a man who must be allow’d to have been the most experienc’d in this age.”

#### Plants of the Moon.

The Germans call Mondveilchen (Violet of the Moon), the Lunaria annua, the Leucoion, also known as the Flower of the Cow, that is to say, of the cow Io, one of the names of the Moon. The old classic legend relates that this daughter of Inachus, because she was beloved by Jupiter, fell under the jealous displeasure of Juno, and was much persecuted by her. Jupiter therefore changed his beautiful mistress into the cow Io, and at his request, Tellus (the Earth) caused a certain herb (Salutaris, the herb of Isis) to spring up, in order to provide for the metamorphosed nymph suitable nourishment. In the Vedic writings, the Moon is represented as slaying monsters and serpents, and it is curious to note that the Moonwort (Lunaria), Southernwood (Artemisia), and Selenite (from Selene, a name of the Moon), are all supposed to have the power of repelling serpents. Plutarch, in his work on rivers, tells us that near the river Trachea grew a herb called Selenite, from the foliage of which trickled a frothy liquid with which the herdsmen anointed their feet in the Spring in order to render them impervious to the bites of serpents. This foam, says De Gubernatis, reminds one of the dew which is found in the morning sprinkled over herbs and plants, and which the ancient Greeks regarded as a gift of the nymphs who accompanied the goddess Artemis, or Diana, the lunar deity.

Numerous Indian plants are named after the Moon, the principal being the Cardamine; the Cocculus cordifolius (the Moon’s Laughter); a species of Solanum called the Flower of the Moon; the Asclepias acida, the Somalatâ, the plant that produces Soma; Sandal-wood (beloved of the Moon); Camphor (named after the Moon); the Convolvulus Turpethum, called the Half-Moon; and many other plants named after Soma, a lunar synonym.

In a Hindu poem, the Moon is called the fructifier of vegetation and the guardian of the celestial ambrosia, and it is not surprising therefore to find that in India the mystic Moon-tree, the Soma, the tree which produces the divine and immortalising ambrosia is worshipped as the lunar god. Soma, the moon-god, produces the revivifying dew of the early morn; Soma, the Moon-tree, the exhilarating ambrosia. The Moon is cold and humid: it is from her the plants receive their sap, says Prof. De Gubernatis, “and thanks to the Moon that they multiply, and that vegetation prospers. There is nothing very wonderful, therefore, if the movements of the Moon preside in a general way over agricultural operations, and if it exercises a special influence on the health and accouchements of women, who are said to represent Water, the humid element. The Roman goddess Lucina (the Moon) presided over accouchements, and had under her care the Dittany and the Mugwort [or Motherwort] (Artemisia, from Artemis, the lunar goddess), considered, like the Vedic Soma, to be the queen or mother of the herbs.”

Thus Macer says of it:—

“Herbarum matrem justum puto ponere primo;
Præcipue morbis muliebribus illa medetur.”

This influence of the Moon over the female portion of the human race has led to a class of plants being associated either directly with the luminary or with the goddesses who were formerly thought to impersonate or embody it. Thus we find the Chrysanthemum leucanthemum named the Moon Daisy, because its shape resembles the pictures of a full moon, the type of a class of plants which Dr. Prior points out, “on the Doctrine of Signatures, were exhibited in uterine complaints, and dedicated in pagan times to the goddess of the Moon and regulator of monthly periods, Artemis, whom Horsley (on Hosea ix., 10) would identify with Isis, the goddess of the Egyptians, with Juno Lucina, and with Eileithuia, a deity who had special charge over the functions of women—an office in Roman Catholic mythology assigned to Mary Magdalene and Margaret.” The Costmary, or Maudeline-wort (Balsamita vulgaris); the Maghet, or May-weed (Pyrethrum Parthenium); the Mather, or Maydweed (Anthemis Cotula); the Daisy, or Marguerite (Bellis perennis); the Achillea Matricaria, &c., are all plants which come under the category of lunar herbs in their connection with feminine complaints.

#### The Man in the Moon.

Chaucer describes the Moon as Lady Cynthia:—

“Her gite was gray and full of spottis blake,
And on her brest a chorle paintid ful even
Bearing a bush of Thornis on his bake
Which for his theft might climb no ner the heven.”

Allusion is here made to the Man in the Moon, bearing a Thorn-bush on his shoulders—one of the most widely-diffused superstitions still extant. It is curious that, in several legends respecting this inhabitant of the Moon, he is represented as having been engaged, when on earth, in gardening operations. Kuhn relates a tradition in the Havel country. One Christmas Eve, a peasant felt a great desire to eat a Cabbage; and, having none himself, he slipped stealthily into his neighbour’s garden to cut some. Just as he had filled his basket, the Christ Child rode past on his white horse, and said: “Because thou hast stolen in the holy night, thou shalt immediately sit in the Moon with thy basket of Cabbage.” At Paderhorn, in Westphalia, the crime committed was not theft, but hindering people from attending church on Easter-Day, by placing a Thorn-bush in the field-gate through which they had to pass. In the neighbourhood of Wittingen, the man is said to have been exiled to the Moon because he tied up his brooms on Maunday Thursday; and at Deilinghofen, of having mown the Grass in his meadows on Sunday. A Swabian mother at Derendingen will tell her child that a man was once working in his vineyard on Sunday, and after having pruned all his Vines, he made a bundle of the shoots he had just cut off, laid it in his basket, and went home. According to one version, the Vine-shoots were stolen from a neighbour’s Vineyard. When taxed either with Sabbath-breaking or with the theft, the culprit loudly protested his innocence, and at length exclaimed: “If I have committed this crime, may I be sent to the Moon!” After his death this fate duly befell him, and there he remains to this day. The Black Forest peasants relate that a certain man stole a bundle of wood on Sunday because he thought on that day he should be unmolested by the foresters. However, on leaving the forest, he met a stranger, who was no other than the Almighty himself. After reproving the thief for not keeping the Sabbath-day holy, God said he must be punished, but he might choose whether he would be banished to the Sun or to the Moon. The man chose the latter, declaring he would rather freeze in the Moon than burn in the Sun; and so the Broom-man came into the Moon with his faggot on his back. At Hemer, in Westphalia, the legend runs that a man was engaged in fencing his garden on Good Friday, and had just poised a bundle of Thorns on his fork when he was at once transported to the Moon. Some of the Hemer peasants, however, declare that the Moon is not only inhabited by a man with a Thorn-bush and pitchfork, but also by his wife, who is churning, and was exiled to the Moon for using a churn on Sunday. According to other traditions, the figure in the Moon is that of Isaac bearing the faggot on his shoulders for his own sacrifice on Mount Moriah; or Cain with a bundle of Briars; or a tipsy man who for his audacity in threatening the Moon with a Bramble he held in his hand, was drawn up to this planet, and has remained there to the present day.

### CHAPTER XV.
Plant Symbolism and Language.

The antiquity of floral emblems probably dates from the time when the human heart first beat with the gentle emotions of affection or throbbed with the wild pulsations of love. Then it was that man sought to express through the instrumentality of flowers his love of purity and beauty, or to typify through their aid the ardour of his passionate desires; for the symbolism of flowers, it has been conjectured, was first conceived as a parable speaking to the eye and thence teaching the heart.

Driven, in his struggle for existence, to learn the properties of plants in order to obtain wholesome food, man found that with the beauty of their form and colour they spoke lovingly to him. They could be touched, tasted, handled, planted, sown, and reaped: they were useful, easily converted into simple articles of clothing, or bent, twisted, and cut into weapons and tools. Flowers became a language to man very early, and according to their poisonous, soothing, or nutritious qualities, or on account of some peculiarities in their growth or shape which seemed to tell upon the mysteries of life, birth, and death, he gave them names which thenceforth became words and symbols to him of these phenomena.

Glimpses of the ancient poetical plant symbolism have been found amid the ruins of temples, graven on the sides of rocks, and inscribed on the walls of mighty caves where the early nations of India, Assyria, Chaldæa, and Egypt knelt in adoration. The Chinese from time immemorial have known a comprehensive system of floral signs and emblems, and the Japanese have ever possessed a mode of communicating by symbolic flowers. Persian literature abounds in chaste and poetical allegories, which demonstrate the antiquity of floral symbolism in that far Eastern land: thus we are told that Sadi the poet, when a slave, presented to his tyrant master a Rose accompanied with this pathetic appeal:—“Do good to thy servant whilst thou hast the power, for the season of power is often as transient as the duration of this beautiful flower.” The beauty of the symbol melted the heart of his lord, and the slave obtained his liberty.

The Hindu races are passionately fond of flowers, and their ancient Sanscrit books and poems are full of allusions to their beauty and symbolic character. With them, the flower of the field is venerated as a symbol of fecundity. In their mythology, at the beginning of all things there appeared in the waters the expanded Lotus-blossom, the emblematic flower of life and light; the Sun, Moon, and Stars are flowers in the celestial garden; the Sun’s ray is a full-blown Rose, which springs from the waters and feeds the sacrificial fire; the Lightning is a garland of flowers thrown by Narada. Pushpa (flower), or Pushpaka (flowery), is the epithet applied to the luminous car of the god Kuvera, which was seized by Râvana, the royal monster of Lankâ, and recaptured by the demi-god Râma, the incarnation of Vishnu. The bow of Kâma, the Indian Cupid, darts forth flowers in the guise of arrows. The Indian poetic lover gathers from the flowers a great number of chaste and beautiful symbols. The following description of a young maiden struck down by illness is a fair example of this:—“All of a sudden the blighting glance of unpropitious fortune having fallen on that Rose-cheeked Cypress, she laid her head on the pillow of sickness; and in the flower-garden of her beauty, in place of the Damask Rose, sprang up the branch of the Saffron. Her fresh Jasmine, from the violence of the burning illness, lost its moisture, and her Hyacinth, full of curls, lost all its endurance from the fever that consumed her.”

It was with the classic Greeks, however, that floral symbolism reached its zenith: not only did the Hellenic race entertain an extraordinary passion for flowers, but with consummate skill they devised a code of floral types and emblems adapted to all phases of public and private life. As Loudon writes, when speaking of the emblematic use made by the Greeks of flowers:—“Not only were they then, as now, the ornament of a beauty, and of the altars of the gods, but the youths crowned themselves with them in the fêtes, the priests in religious ceremonies, and the guests in convivial meetings. Garlands of flowers were suspended from the gates of the city in the times of rejoicing ... the philosophers wore crowns of flowers, and the warriors ornamented their foreheads with them in times of triumph.” The Romans, although they adopted most of the floral symbolic lore of their Hellenic predecessors, and in the case of emblematic garlands were particularly refined, were still evidently not so passionately fond of floral symbolism as were the Greeks; and with the decadence of the Empire, the attractive art gradually fell into oblivion.

The science of plant symbolism may, if we accept the views of Miss Marshall, a writer on the subject,[16] be classified into five divisions. These are, firstly, plants which are symbols, pure and simple, of the Great Unknown God, or Heaven Father; and embrace those, the form, colour, or other peculiarities of which led the priests, the early thinkers to the community, the medicine-men, magicians, and others, to associate them with ideas of the far-distant, unknown, incomprehensible, and overwhelming—the destructive forces of Nature. Such plants were used as hieroglyphics for these ideas, and became symbols of the Deity or Supreme Power. To these visible symbols belong plants such as the Lily, Onion, flowers of heavenly blue colour (symbolising the blue sky), and leaves threefold or triangular, symbolising God the Creator, Preserver, and Destroyer.

Secondly, the plants symbolising or suggesting portions or organs of the human body, internal and external, which to the earliest of mankind, and certainly to the Egyptian embalmers, were organs of mystery and importance; such is the heart, the first to beat in the fœtal, and the last to cease pulsating in the adult organism, &c. To this section belong heart-shaped leaves and petals; and where, as in the Shamrock, there is united the threefold emblem and the heart-shaped leaf, there is a doubly sacred idea united with the form. To this section belong also plants and fruits such as the Fig, Pomegranate, &c.

The third section comprises plants that were consecrated or set apart as secret and sacred, because those who possessed the knowledge of their powers made use of them to awe the ignorant people of their race. These plants were supposed to be under the control of the good or evil powers. They were the narcotics, the stupefying or the exciting vegetable drugs. The sacred incense in all temples was compounded of these, and their use has been, and still is, common to all countries; and as some of these compounds produced extraordinary or deadly effects, as the very dust of the burnt incense, when mixed with water, and drunk, brought on a violent and agonising death, while the fumes might merely produce delightful and enticing ecstacy, making men and women eloquent and seemingly inspired, the knowledge was wisely kept secret from the people, and severe penalties—sometimes even death—awaited those who illegally imitated, compounded, or used these drugs. To this section belong the plants used to make the Chinese and Japanese joss, as well as Opium, Tobacco, Stramonium, and various opiates now well known.

The fourth section comprises those plants which in all countries have been observed to bear some resemblance to parts of the human body. Such plants were valued and utilised as heaven-sent guides in the treatment of the ills flesh is heir to; and they are the herbs whose popular names among the inhabitants of every land have become “familiar in their mouths as household words.” To such belong the Birth-wort, Kidney-wort, Lung-wort, Liver-wort, Pile-wort, Nit-grass, Tooth-cress, Heart-clover, and many others known to the ancient herbalists. It was their endeavours to find out whether or no the curious forms, spots, and markings of such plants really indicated their curative powers, that led to the properties of other herbs being discovered, and a suggestive nomenclature being adopted for them, such as is found in the names Eyebright, Flea-bane, Canker-weed, Hunger-grass, Stone-break, &c.

Lastly, in the fifth section of symbolical plants we come to those which point to a time when symbols were expressed by letters, such as appear on the Martagon Lily—the true poetical Hyacinth of the Greeks—on the petals of which are traced the woeful AI, AI,—the expression of the grief of Phœbus at the death of the fair Adonis.

“In the flower he weaved
The sad impression of his sighs; which bears
Ai, Ai, displayed in funeral characters.”

In this section also are included plants which exhibit in some portion of their structure typical markings, such as the Astragalus, which in its root depicts the stars; the Banana, whose fruit, when cut, exhibits a representation of the Holy Cross; and the Bracken Fern, whose stem, when sliced, exhibits traces of letters which are sometimes used for the purposes of love divination. In Ireland, however, the Pteris aquilina is called the Fern of God, because the people imagine that if the stem be cut into three sections, on the first of these sections will be seen the letter G, on the second O, and on the third D—forming the sacred word God.

In the science of plant symbols, not only the names, but the forms, perfumes, and properties of plants have to be considered, as well as the numerical arrangements of their parts. Thus of all sacred symbolical plants, those consisting of petals or calyx-sepals, or leaves, divided into the number Five, were formerly held in peculiar reverence, because among the races of antiquity five was for ages a sacred number. The reason of this is thus explained by Bunsen:—“It is well known,” he says, “that the numeral one, the undivided, the eternal, is placed in antithesis to all other numerals. The figure four included the perfect ten, as 1+2+3+4=10. So four represents the All of the universe. Now if we put these together, 4+1 will be the sign of the whole God-Universe.” Three is a number sacred to the most ancient as well as modern worship. Pythagoras called it the perfect number, expressive of “beginning, middle, and end,” and therefore he made it a symbol of deity. Three therefore plays its rôle in plant symbology. Thus the Emblica officinalis, one of the sacred plants of India, was once the exclusive property of the priests, who kept its medicinal virtues secret: it was held in peculiar reverence because of its flowers possessing a six-parted calyx; three stamens, combined; three dichotomous styles; a fleshy fruit, tricoccous and six-seeded; these being all the sacred or double number of Three. In later days, the Shamrock or Trefoil, and the Pansy, or Herb Trinity, were regarded as symbolising the Trinity. Cruciform flowers are, at the present day, all regarded as of good omen, having been marked with the Sign of the Cross, and thus symbolising Redemption.

The presence of flowers as symbols and language on the monuments of Assyria, Babylon, Egypt, India, and other countries of the past, and the graceful floral adornments sculptured on the temples of the Græco-Roman period, demonstrate how great a part flower and plant symbolism played in the early history of mankind. The Jews, learning the art from the Egyptians, preserved it in their midst, and introduced plant emblems in their Tabernacle, in their Temple, and on the garments of the priests. Flowers with golden rays became symbols of the Sun; and as the Sun was the giver of life and warmth, the bringer of fertility, the symbolic flowers stood as symbol-words for these great gifts; and gradually all the mysterious phenomena connected with birth, reproduction, and fecundity, were represented in plant, flower, and fruit symbolism; for not only were flowers early used as a pictorial language, but the priests made use of fruits, herbs, shrubs, and trees to symbolise light, life, warmth, and generation. Let us take a few examples:—When in the Spring, church altars and fonts are piously adorned with white Lilies, which are, in some countries, carried about, worn, and presented by ladies to each other in the month of May, few of them, we may be sure, imagine that they are perpetuating the plant symbolism of the Sun-worship of ancient Egypt. Miss Marshall tells us that “in Catholic countries the yellow anthers are carefully removed; their white filaments alone are left, not, as folks think, that the flower may remain pure white, but that the fecundating or male organs being removed, the Lilies may be true flower symbols or visible words for pure virgins; for the white dawn as yet unwedded to the day—for the pure cold Spring as yet yielding no blossoms and Summer fruits.”

Of the flowers consecrated to their deities by the symbol-worshipper of India and Egypt, the most prominent is the sacred Lotus, whose leaf was the “emblem and cradle of creative might.” It was anciently revered in Egypt as it is now in Hindustan, Thibet, and Nepaul, where the people believe it was in the consecrated bosom of this plant that Brahma was born, and that Osiris delights to float. From its peculiar organisation the Lotus is virtually self-productive: hence it became the symbol of the reproductive power of all nature, and was worshipped as a symbol of the All-Creative Power. The same floral symbol occurs wherever in the northern hemisphere symbolic religion has prevailed. The sacred images of the Tartars, Japanese, and Indians are almost all represented as resting upon Lotus-leaves. The Chinese divinity, Puzza, is seated in a Lotus, and the Japanese god is represented sitting in a Water-Lily. The Onion was formerly held in the highest esteem as a religious symbol in the mysterious solemnities and divinations of the Egyptians and Hindus. In the first place, its delicate red veins and fibres rendered it an object of veneration, as typifying the blood, at the shedding of which the Hindu shudders. Secondly, it was regarded as an astronomical emblem, for on cutting through it, there appeared beneath the external coat a succession of orbs, one within another, in regular order, after the manner of revolving spheres. The Rose has been made a symbolic flower in every age. In the East, it is the emblem of virtue and loveliness. The Egyptians made it a symbol of silence; the Romans regarded it as typical of festivity. In modern times it is considered the appropriate symbol of beauty and love,—the half-expanded bud representing the first dawn of the sublime passion, and the full-blown flower the maturity of perfect love. The Asphodel, like the Hyacinth of the ancients, was regarded as an emblem of grief and sorrow. The Myrtle, from its being dedicated to Venus, was sacred as a symbol of love and beauty. White flowers were held to be typical of light and innocence, and were consecrated to virgins. Sombre and dark-foliaged plants were held to be typical of disaster and death.

The floral symbols of the Scriptures are worthy of notice. From the circumstance of Elijah having been sheltered from the persecutions of King Ahab by the Juniper, that tree has become a symbol of succour or an asylum. The Almond was an emblem of haste and vigilance to the Hebrew writers; with Eastern poets, however, it was regarded as a symbol of hope. Throughout the East, the Aloe is regarded as a religious symbol, and is greatly venerated. It is expressive of grief and bitterness, and is religiously planted by the Mahommedans at the extremity of every grave. Burckhardt says that they call it by the Arabic name Saber, signifying patience—a singularly appropriate name; for as the plant is evergreen, it whispers to those who mourn for the loved ones they have lost, patience in their affliction. The Clover is another sacred plant symbol. St. Patrick chose it as an emblem of the Trinity when engaged in converting the Irish, who have ever since, in the Shamrock, regarded it as a representative plant. The Druids thought very highly of the Trefoil because its leaf symbolised the three departments of nature—the earth, the sea, and the heaven.

But of all plant symbols, none can equal in beauty or sanctity the Passion Flower, the lovely blossom of which, when first met with by the Spanish conquerors of the New World, suggested to their enthusiastic imagination the story of our Saviour’s Passion. The Jesuits professed to find in the several parts of the Maracot the crown of thorns, the scourge, the pillar, the sponge, the nails, and the five wounds, and they issued drawings representing the flower with its inflorescence distorted to suit their statements regarding its almost miraculous character. John Parkinson, in his Paradisus Terrestris (1629), gives a good figure of the Virginian species of the plant, as well as an engraving of “The Jesuites Figure of the Maracoc—Granadillus Frutex Indicus Christi Passionis Imago.” But, as a good Protestant, he feels bound to enter his protest against the superstitious regard paid to the flower by the Roman Catholics, and so he writes: “Some superstitious Jesuites would fain make men believe that in the flower of this plant are to be seen all the markes of our Saviour’s Passion: and therefore call it Flos Passionis: and to that end have caused figures to be drawn and printed, with all the parts proportioned out, as thornes, nailes, spear, whip, pillar, &c., in it, and as true as the sea burns, which you may well perceive by the true figure taken to the life of the plant, compared with the figure set forth by the Jesuites, which I have placed here likewise for everyone to see: but these be their advantageous lies (which with them are tolerable, or rather pious and meritorious) wherewith they use to instruct their people; but I dare say, God never willed His priests to instruct His people with lies: for they come from the Devill, the author of them.”

The Passion-flower of the Jesuits. From Parkinson’s Paradisus.

In early times, it was customary in Europe to employ particular colours for the purpose of indicating ideas and feelings, and in France where the symbolical meaning of colours was formed into a regular system, much importance was attached to the art of symbolising by the selection of particular colours for dresses, ornaments, &c. In this way, flowers of various hues became the apt media of conveying ideas and feelings; and in the ages of chivalry the enamoured knight often indicated his passion by wearing a single blossom or posy of many-hued flowers. In the romance of Perceforet, a hat adorned with Roses is celebrated as a favourite gift of love; and in Amadis de Gaule, the captive Oriana is represented as throwing to her lover a Rose wet with tears, as the sweetest pledge of her unalterable faith. Red was recognised as the colour of love, and therefore the Rose, on account of its tint, was a favourite emblem. Of the various allegorical meanings which were in the Middle Ages attached to this lovely flower, a description will be found in the celebrated Romaunt de la Rose, which was commenced in the year 1620 by Guillaume de Lorris, and finished forty years later by Jean de Meung.

In France, during the Middle Ages, flowers were much employed as emblems of love and friendship. At the banquet given in celebration of the marriage of Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, with the English Princess, Margaret, several ingenious automata were introduced, one being a large unicorn, bearing on its back a leopard, which held in one claw the standard of England, and on the other a Daisy, or Marguerite. The unicorn having gone round all the tables, halted before the Duke; and one of the maîtres d’hôtel, taking the Daisy from the leopard’s claw, presented it, with a complimentary address, to the royal bridegroom.

In the same country, an act of homage, unique in its kind, was paid to a lady in the early part of the seventeenth century. The Duke of Montausier, on obtaining the promise of the hand of Mademoiselle de Rambouillet, sent to her, according to custom, every morning till that fixed for the nuptials, a bouquet composed of the finest flowers of the season. But this was not all: on the morning of New Year’s Day, 1634—the day appointed for the marriage—he laid upon her dressing-table a magnificently-bound folio volume, on the parchment leaves of which the most skilful artists of the day had painted from nature a series of the choicest flowers cultivated at that time in Europe. The first poets of Paris contributed the poetical illustrations, which were written by the cleverest penmen under the different flowers. The most celebrated of these madrigals, composed by Chapelain on the Crown Imperial, represented that superb flower as having sprung from the blood of Gustavus Adolphus, who fell in the battle of Lützen; and thus paid, in the name of the Swedish hero, a delicate compliment to the bride, who was a professed admirer of his character. According to a statement published some years since, this magnificent volume, which was called, after the name of the lady, the Garland of Julia, was disposed of, in 1784, at the sale of the Duke de la Vallière’s effects, for fifteen thousand five hundred and ten livres (about £650), and was brought to England.

The floral emblems of Shakspeare are evidence of the great poet’s fondness for flowers and his delicate appreciation of their uses and similitudes. In ‘A Winter’s Tale,’ Perdita is made to present appropriate flowers to her visitors, symbolical of their various ages; but the most remarkable of Shakspeare’s floral symbols occur where poor Ophelia is wearing, in her madness, “fantastic garlands of wild flowers”—denoting the bewildered state of her faculties.

The order of these flowers runs thus, with the meaning of each term beneath:—

- Crow Flowers.
  Fayre Mayde.
- Nettles.
  Stung to the Quick.
- Daisies.
  Her Virgin Bloom.
- Long Purples.
  Under the cold hand of Death.

“A fair maid, stung to the quick; her virgin bloom under the cold hand of death.”

Probably no wreath could have been selected more truly typifying the sorrows of this beautiful victim of disappointed love and filial sorrow.

The most noted code of floral signs, used as a language by the Turkish and Greek women in the Levant, and by the African females on the coast of Barbary, was introduced into Western Europe by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu and La Mortraie, the companion in exile of Charles XII., and obtained in France and England much popularity as the “Turkish Language of Flowers.” This language is said to be much employed in the Turkish harems, where the women practise it, either for the sake of mere diversion in their seclusion, or for carrying on secret communication.

In France and Germany, the language of flowers has taken deep root, and in our own country the poetic symbolisms of Shakspeare, Chaucer, Herrick, Drayton, and others of the earlier bards, laid the groundwork for the very complete system of floral emblemism, or language of flowers, which we now possess. A great many works have been published, containing floral codes, or dictionaries: most of these, however, possess but little merit as expositions of old symbols or traditions, and have been compiled principally from modern sources.

An ancient floral vocabulary, taken from Dierbach’s Flora Mythologica der Griechen und Römer, and an approved modern English ‘Dictionary of Flowers,’ are appended, in order to make this portion of our subject complete.

#### Ancient Floral Vocabulary.

Absinth | The Bitterness and Torments of Love.
Acacia | Love, pure and platonic.
Acanthus | Love of Fine Arts.
Althea | Exquisite Sweetness.
Amaranth | Fidelity and Constancy.
Anemone | Abandonment.
Angelica | Gentle Melancholy.
Argentine | Ingenuity.
Aster | Elegance.
Balsam | Impatience.
Basil | Poverty.
Betony | Emotion and Surprise.
Bindweed | Coquetry.
Bluet | Clearness and Light.
Box | Firmness and Stoicism.
Bramble | Injustice and Envy.
Burdock | Importunity.
Buttercup | Sarcasm.
Calendula | Anxiety.
Camellia | Constancy and Steadfastness.
Carrot | Good Character.
Cinquefoil | Maternal Love.
Colchicum | Bad Character.
Cypress | Mourning and Grief.
Dahlia | Sterile Abundance.
Daisy (Easter) | Candour and Innocence.
Dandelion | Oracle.
Darnel | Vice.
Digitalis | Work.
Dittany | Discretion.
Elder | Humility.
Ephemeris | Transient Happiness.
Everlasting Flwr. | Constancy.
Fennel | Merit.
Fern | Confidence.
Forget-me-not | Faithful Remembrance.
Foxglove | Adulation.
Fuchsia | Amiability.
Fumitory | Hatred.
Geranium | Folly.
Hawthorn | Sweet Hope.
Heliotrope | Eternal Love.
Hellebore | Wit.
Hemlock | Perfidy.
Holly | Defence.
Honeysuckle | Bond of Affection.
Hyacinth | Amenity.
Hydrangea | Coldness.
Iris | Indifference.
Ivy | Attachment.
Jasmine | Amiability.
Jonquil | Amorous Languor.
Jujube-tree | Relief.
Larkspur | Open Heart.
Laurel | Victory and Glory.
Lavender | Silence.
Lilac | First Troubles of Love.
Lily | Purity and Majesty.
Maidenhair | Bond of Love.
Marjoram | Consolation.
Marvel of Peru | Flame of Love.
Mallow | Maternal Tenderness.
Mint | Wisdom and Virtue.
Milfoil | Cure and Recovery.
Moonwort | Bad Payment.
Myrtle | Love.
Narcissus | Self-esteem and Fatuity.
Nettle | Cruelty.
Olive | Peace.
Orange-tree | Virginity, Generosity.
Peony | Shame.
Periwinkle | Unalterable Friendship.
Pineapple | Perfection.
Pink | Pure and Ardent Love.
Poppy | Sleep.
Privet | Youth.
Rose | Beauty and Love.
Rosemary | Power of Re-kindling extinct Energy.
Rue | Fecundity of Fields.
Sage | Esteem.
Sensitive-plant | Modesty.
Solanum | Prodigality.
Spindle-tree | Ineffaceable Memory.
Strawberry | Intoxication, Delight.
Thyme | Spontaneous Emotion.
Trefoil | Uncertainty.
Tulip | Grandeur.
Valerian | Readiness.
Vervain | Pure Affection.
Viburnum | Coolness.
Violet | Modesty.

#### A Dictionary of Flowers.

Acacia | Friendship.
—— Rose | Elegance.
Acanthus | The Arts.
Achillea millefolia | War.
Adonis, Flos | Painful Recollections.
Agrimony | Thankfulness.
Almond-tree | Indiscretion.
Aloe | Grief.
Amaranth | Immortality.
Amaryllis | Pride.
Anemone | Forsaken.
—— Field | Sickness.
Angelica | Inspiration.
Angrec | Royalty.
Apple-blossom | Preference.
Ash-tree | Grandeur.
Asphodel | My regrets follow you to the grave.
Aster, China | Variety.
—— | After-Thought.
Balm of Gilead | Cure.
—— Gentle | Joking.
Balsam | Impatience.
Barberry | Sourness of Temper.
Basil | Hate.
Beech | Prosperity.
Bilberry | Treachery.
Bladder-nut | Frivolous Amusement.
Borage | Bluntness.
Box-tree | Stoicism.
Bramble | Envy.
Broom | Humility and Neatness.
Buckbean | Calm Repose.
Bugloss | Falsehood.
Bulrush | Indiscretion.
Burdock | Touch me not.
Buttercup | Ingratitude.
Cactus, Virginia | Horror.
Canterbury Bell | Constancy.
Catchfly | Snare.
Champignon | Suspicion.
Cherry-tree | Good Education.
Chesnut-tree | Do me Justice.
Chicory | Frugality.
Cinquefoil | Beloved Daughter.
Circæa | Spell.
Clematis | Artifice.
Clotbur | Rudeness.
Clove-tree | Dignity.
Columbine | Folly.
Convolvulus (night) | Night.
Coriander | Hidden Merit.
Corn | Riches.
Corn-bottle | Delicacy.
Cornel Cherry | Durability.
Cowslip, Amer. | You are my Divinity.
Cress | Resolution.
Crown Imperial | Power.
Cuscuta | Meanness.
Cypress | Mourning.
Daffodil | Self Love.
Daisy | Innocence.
—— Garden | I share your sentiments.
—— Wild | I will think of it.
Dandelion | The Rustic Oracle.
Day Lily, Yellow | Coquetry.
Dittany | Childbirth.
Dock | Patience.
Dodder | Meanness.
Ebony-tree | Blackness.
Eglantine | Poetry.
Fennel | Strength.
Fig | Longevity.
Fir-tree | Elevations.
Flax | I feel your kindness.
Flower-de-Luce | Flame.
Forget-Me-Not | Forget me not.
Fraxinella | Fire.
Fuller’s Teasel | Misanthropy.
Geranium | Deceit.
—— Oak-leaved | True Friendship.
—— Silver-leaved | Recall.
—— Pencilled-leaf | Ingenuity.
—— Rose-scented | Preference.
—— Scarlet | Stupidity.
—— Sorrowful | Melancholy Mind.
—— Wild | Steadfast Piety.
Grass | Utility.
Hawthorn | Hope.
Hazel | Peace, Reconciliation.
Heart’s Ease | Think of me.
Heath | Solitude.
Heliotrope, Peruvian | Devoted Attachment.
Hellenium | Tears.
Hepatica | Confidence.
Holly | Foresight.
Hollyhock | Ambition.
Honeysuckle | Generous and Devoted Affection.
Hop | Injustice.
Hornbeam | Ornament.
Horse-Chesnut | Luxury.
Hortensia | You are cold.
Hyacinth | Game, Play.
Ice-plant | Your looks freeze me.
Ipomœa | I attach myself to you.
Iris | Message.
Ivy | Friendship.
Jasmine | Amiability.
—— Carolina | Separation.
Jonquil | Desire.
Juniper | Protection.
Larch | Boldness.
Larkspur | Lightness.
Laurel | Glory.
Laurustinus | I die if neglected.
Lavender | Mistrust.
Leaves, Dead | Sadness, Melancholy.
Lilac | First Emotions of Love.
—— White | Youth.
Lily | Majesty.
Lily of the Valley | Return of Happiness.
Linden-tree | Conjugal Love.
Liverwort | Confidence.
London Pride | Frivolity.
Lotus | Eloquence.
Lucern | Life.
Madder | Calumny.
Maidenhair | Secrecy.
Mallow | Beneficence.
Manchineel-tree | Falsehood.
Maple | Reserve.
Mandrake | Rarity.
Marigold | Grief.
—— Prophetic | Prediction.
—— and Cypress | Despair.
Marvel of Peru | Timidity.
Meadow Saffron | My best days are past.
Mezereon | Coquetry. Desire to please.
Mignonette | Your qualities surpass your charms.
Milkwort | Hermitage.
Mistletoe | I surmount all difficulties.
Moonwort | Forgetfulness.
Moss | Maternal Love.
Mulberry-tree, Black | I shall not survive you.
—— White | Wisdom.
Musk-plant | Weakness.
Myrobalan | Privation.
Myrtle | Love.
Narcissus | Self Love.
Nettle | Cruelty.
Nightshade, Bitter-sweet | Truth.
—— Enchanter’s | Spell.
Nosegay | Gallantry.
Oak | Hospitality.
Olive | Peace.
Ophrys, Spider | Skill.
Orange Flower | Chastity.
—— Tree | Generosity.
Orchis, Bee | Error.
Palm | Victory.
Parsley | Festivity.
Passion Flower | Faith.
Peony | Shame, Bashfulness.
Peppermint | Warmth of Feeling.
Periwinkle | Tender Recollections.
Pineapple | You are perfect.
Pink | Pure Love.
—— Yellow | Disdain.
Plane-tree | Genius.
Plum-tree | Keep your promises.
—— Wild | Independence.
Poplar, black | Courage.
—— White | Time.
Poppy | Consolation.
—— | Sleep.
—— White | My bane, my antidote.
Potato | Beneficence.
Primrose | Childhood.
—— Evening | Inconstancy.
Privet | Prohibition.
Quince | Temptation.
Ranunculus | You are radiant with charms.
Reeds | Music.
Rose | Love.
—— 100-leaved | Grace.
—— Monthly | Beauty ever new.
—— Musk | Capricious Beauty.
—— Single | Simplicity.
—— White | Silence.
—— Withered | Fleeting Beauty.
—— Yellow | Infidelity.
Rosebud | A Young Girl.
—— White | A Heart unacquainted with Love.
Rosemary | Your presence revives me.
Rue, Wild | Morals.
Rush | Docility.
Saffron | Beware of excess.
Sage | Esteem.
Sainfoin, Shaking | Agitation.
St. John’s Wort | Superstition.
Sardonia | Irony.
Sensitive-plant | Chastity.
Snapdragon | Presumption.
Snowdrop | Hope.
Sorrel, Wood | Joy.
Speedwell | Fidelity.
Spindle-tree | Your charms are engraven on my heart.
Star of Bethlehem | Purity.
Stock | Lasting Beauty.
—— Ten Week | Promptness.
Stone Crop | Tranquillity.
Straw, Broken | Rupture of a Contract.
—— Whole | Union.
Strawberry | Perfection.
Sunflower | False Riches.
Sweet Sultan | Happiness.
Sweet William | Finesse.
Sycamore | Curiosity.
Syringa | Fraternal Love.
Tansy, Wild | I declare war against you.
Tendrils of Creepers | Ties.
Thistle | Surliness.
Thorn Apple | Deceitful Charms.
Thrift | Sympathy.
Thyme | Activity.
Tremella Nostoc | Resistance.
Truffle | Surprise.
Tuberose | Dangerous Pleasures.
Tulip | Declaration of Love.
Tussilage, Sweet-scented | Justice shall be done to you.
Valerian | An Accommodating Disposition.
Valerian, Greek | Rupture.
Venus’ Looking-glass | Flattery.
Veronica | Fidelity.
Vervain | Enchantment.
Vine | Intoxication.
Violet | Modesty.
Violet, White | Innocence, Candour.
Wallflower | Fidelity in Misfortune.
Walnut | Stratagem.
Whortleberry | Treachery.
Willow, Weeping | Mourning.
Wormwood | Absence.
Yew | Sorrow.

In the chapter on Magic Plants will be found a list of plants used by maidens and their lovers for the purposes of divination; and in Part II., under the respective headings of the plants thus alluded to, will be found described the several modes of divination. This practice of love divination, it will be seen, is not altogether unconnected with the symbolical meaning or language of flowers, and therefore it is here again adverted to.

In many countries it is customary to pluck off the petals of the Marigold, or some other flower of a similar nature, while certain words are repeated, for the purpose of divining the character of an individual. Göthe, in his tragedy of ‘Faust,’ has touched upon this rustic superstition, and makes Margaret pluck off the leaves of a flower, at the same time alternately repeating the words—“He loves me,”—“He loves me not.” On coming to the last leaf, she joyously exclaims—“He love me!”—and Faust says: “Let this flower pronounce the decree of heaven!”

“And with scarlet Poppies around, like a bower,
The maiden found her mystic flower.
‘Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tell
If my lover loves me, and loves me well;
So may the fall of the morning dew
Keep the sun from fading thy tender blue.
Now must I number the leaves for my lot—
He loves me not—loves me—he loves me not—
He loves me—ah! yes, thou last leaf, yes—
I’ll pluck thee not for that last sweet guess!
He loves me!’—‘Yes,’ a dear voice sighed,
And her lover stands by Margaret’s side.”—Miss Landon.

In some places, the following mode of floral divination is resorted to. The lover, male or female, who wishes to ascertain the character of the beloved one, draws by lot one of the following flowers, the symbolical meaning attached to which will give the information desired:—

1.—Ranunculus | Enterprising.
2.—Wild Pink | Silly.
3.—Auricula | Base.
4.—Blue Cornflower | Loquacious.
5.—Wild Orach | Lazy.
6.—Daisy | Gentle.
7.—Tulip | Ostentatious.
8.—Jonquil | Obstinate.
9.—Orange-flower | Hasty.
10.—Rose | Submissive.
11.—Amaranth | Arbitrary.
12.—Stock | Avaricious.
13.—Spanish | Passionate.
14.—Asphodel | Languishing.
15.—Tricolour | Selfish.
16.—Tuberose | Ambitious.
17.—Jasmine | Cheerful.
18.—Heart’s Ease | Delicate.
19.—Lily | Sincere.
20.—Fritillary | Coquettish.
21.—Snapdragon | Presumptuous.
22.—Carnation | Capricious.
23.—Marigold | Jealous.
24.—Everlasting Flower | Constant.

### CHAPTER XVI.
Funeral Trees and Plants.

The association of certain trees and plants with death and its gloomy surroundings dates from a period remote and shadowy in its antiquity. Allusions to it are found in the most ancient writings and records, and through one of these (the Sanscrit Mahâbhârata) we learn that Pitâ Mahâ, the great Creator, after having created the world, reposed under the tree Salmalî, the leaves of which the winds cannot stir. One of the Sanscrit names applied to this tree is Kantakadruma, Tree of Thorns; and on account of the great size and strength of its spines, it is stated to have been placed as a tree of punishment in the infernal regions, and to have been known as the Tree of Yama (the Hindu god of death). Yama is also spoken of as the dispenser of the ambrosia of immortality, which flows from the fruit of the celestial tree in Paradise (Ficus Indica), and which is known in India as the tree dear to Yama. As king of the spirits of the departed, Yama dwells near the tree. Hel, the Scandinavian goddess of death, has her abode among the roots of Yggdrasill, by the side of one of the fountains. Mîmir, who, according to Scandinavian mythology, gives his name to the fountain of life, is also a king of the dead. The ancients entertained the belief that, on the road traversed by the souls of the departed, there grew a certain tree, the fruit of which was the symbol of eternal life. In the Elysian Fields, where dwelt the spirits of the virtuous in the gloomy regions reigned over by Pluto, whole plains were covered with Asphodel, flowers which were placed by the Greeks and Romans on the graves of the departed as symbolic of the future life. In France, at the beginning of the Christian era, the faithful, with some mystical idea, were wont to scatter on the bottom of coffins, beneath the corpses, seeds of various plants—probably to typify life from the dead.

The belief in a future existence doubtless led to the custom of planting trees on tombs, especially the Cypress, which was regarded as typical both of life and death. The tree growing over the grave, one can easily imagine, was looked upon by the ancient races as an emblem of the soul of the departed become immortal. Evelyn remarks, on this point, that trees and perennial plants are the most natural and instructive hieroglyphics of our expected resurrection and immortality, and that they conduce to the meditation of the living, and the removal of their cogitations from the sphere of vanity and worldliness. This observant writer descants upon the predilection exhibited by the early inhabitants of the world for burial beneath trees, and points out that the venerable Deborah was interred under an Oak at Bethel, and that the bones of Saul and his three sons were buried under the Oak at Jabesh-Gilead. He tells us also that one use made by the ancients of sacred groves was to place in their nemorous shades the bodies of their dead: and that he had read of some nations whose people were wont to hang, not only malefactors, but also their departed friends, and those whom they most esteemed, upon trees, as being so much nearer to heaven, and dedicated to God; believing it far more honourable than to be buried in the earth. He adds that “the same is affirmed of other septentrional people;” and points out that Propertius seems to allude to some such custom in the following lines:—

“The gods forbid my bones in the high road
Should lie, by every wand’ring vulgar trod;
Thus buried lovers are to scorn expos’d,
My tomb in some bye-arbor be inclos’d.”

The ancients were wont to hang their criminals either to barren trees, or to those dedicated to the infernal gods; and we find that in Maundevile’s time the practice of hanging corpses on trees existed in the Indies, or, at any rate, on an island which he describes as being called Caffolos. He gives a sketch of a tree, probably a Palm, with a man suspended from it, and remarks that “Men of that Contree, whan here Frendes ben seke, thei hangen hem upon Trees; and seyn, that it is bettre that briddes, that ben Angeles of God, eten hem, than the foul Wormes of the Erthe.”

The Tree of Death. From Maundevile’s Travels.

We have, in a previous chapter, seen that among the Bengalese there still exists the practice of hanging sickly infants in baskets upon trees, and leaving them there to die. Certain of the wild tribes of India—the Puharris, for example—when burying their infants, place them in earthen pots, and strew leaves over them: these pots they deposit at the foot of trees, sometimes covering them over with brushwood. Similar burial is given to those who die of measles or small-pox: the corpse is placed at the foot of a tree, and left in the underwood or heather, covered with leaves and branches. In about a year the parents repair to the grave-tree, and there, beneath its boughs, take part in a funeral feast.

Grotius states that the Greeks and Romans believed that spirits and ghosts of men delighted to wander and appear in the sombre depths of groves devoted to the sepulture of the departed, and on this account Plato gave permission for trees to be planted over graves—as Evelyn states, “to obumbrate and refresh them.” Since then the custom of planting trees in places devoted to the burial of the dead has become universal, and the trees thus selected have in consequence come to be regarded as funereal.

As a general rule, the trees to which this funereal signification has been attached are those of a pendent or weeping character, and those which are distinguished by their dark and sombre foliage, black berries and fruits, and melancholy-looking blossoms. Others again have been planted in God’s acre on account of the symbolical meaning attached to their form or nature. Thus, whilst the Aloe, the Yew, and the Cypress are suggestive of life, from their perpetual verdure, they typify in floral symbology respectively grief, sorrow, and mourning. The Bay is an emblem of the resurrection, inasmuch as, according to Sir Thomas Browne, when to all outward appearance it is dead and withered, it will unexpectedly revive from the root, and its dry leaves resume their pristine vitality. Evergreen trees and shrubs, whose growth is like a pyramid or spire, the apex of which points heavenward, are deemed emblematic of eternity, and as such are fitly classed among funereal trees: the Arbor Vitæ and the Cypress are examples. The weeping Birch and Willow and the Australian Casuarina, with their foliage mournfully bending to the earth, fitly find their place in churchyards as personifications of woe.

The Yew-tree has been considered an emblem of mourning from a very early period. The Greeks adopted the idea from the Egyptians, the Romans from the Greeks, and the Britons from the Romans. From long habits of association, the Yew acquired a sacred character, and therefore was considered as the best and most appropriate ornament of consecrated ground. Hence in England it became the custom to plant Yews in churchyards, despite the ghastly superstition attached to these trees, that they prey upon the dead who lie beneath their sombre shade. Moreover our forefathers were particularly careful in preserving this funereal tree, whose branches it was at one time usual to carry in solemn procession to the grave, and afterwards to deposit therein under the bodies of departed friends. The custom of planting Yew trees singly in churchyards is also one of considerable antiquity. Statius, in his sixth Thebaid, calls it the solitary Yew. Leyden thus apostrophises this funeral tree:—

“Now more I love thee, melancholy Yew,
Whose still green leaves in silence wave
Above the peasant’s rude unhonoured grave,
Which oft thou moistenest with the morning dew.
To thee the sad, to thee the weary fly;
They rest in peace beneath thy sacred gloom,
Thou sole companion of the lonely tomb;
No leaves but thine in pity o’er them sigh:
Lo! now to fancy’s gaze thou seem’st to spread
Thy shadowy boughs to shroud me with the dead.”

The Mountain Ash is to be found in most Welsh churchyards, where it has been planted, not as a funeral tree, but as a defence against evil spirits. In Montgomeryshire, it is customary to rest the corpse on its way to the churchyard under one of these trees of good omen.

William Cullen Bryant, the American poet, has left us a graceful description of an English churchyard:—

“Erewhile on England’s pleasant shores, our sires
Left not their churchyards unadorned with shades
Or blossoms; and, indulgent to the strong
And natural dread of man’s last home—the grave!
Its frost and silence, they disposed around,
Too sadly on life’s close, the forms and hues
Of vegetable beauty. Then the Yew,
Green even amid the snows of Winter, told
Of immortality; and gracefully
The Willow, a perpetual mourner, drooped;
And there the gadding Woodbine crept about;
And there the ancient Ivy.”

The Walnut-tree, of which it is said that the shadow brings death, is in some countries considered a funeral tree. In India they call the Tamarisk, Yamadutika (Messenger of Yama, the Indian god of death), and the Bombax Heptaphyllum, Yamadruma, the tree of Yama.

The Elm and the Oak, although not strictly funeral trees, are connected with the grave by reason of their wood being used in the construction of coffins, at the present day, just as Cypress and Cedar wood used to be employed by the ancients.

“And well the abounding Elm may grow
In field and hedge so rife;
In forest, copse, and wooded park,
And ’mid the city’s strife;
For every hour that passes by
Shall end a human life.”—Hood.

Brambles are used to bind down graves. Ivy, as an evergreen and a symbol of friendship, is planted to run over the last resting-place of those we love.

In Persia, it is the Basil-tuft that waves its fragrant blossoms over tombs and graves. In Tripoli, Roses, Myrtle, Orange, and Jasmine are planted round tombs; and a large bouquet of flowers is usually fastened at the head of the coffins of females. Upon the death of a Moorish lady of quality every place is filled with fresh flowers and burning perfumes, and at the head of the body is placed a large bouquet. The mausoleum of the royal family is filled with immense wreaths of fresh flowers, and generally tombs are dressed with festoons of choice blossoms. The Chinese plant Roses, a species of Lycoris, and the Anemone on their graves. The Indians attribute a funereal character to the fragrant flowers of the sacred Champak (Michelia Champaca).

The ancients planted the Asphodel around the tombs of the deceased, in the belief that the seeds of this plant, and those of the Mallow, afforded nourishment to the dead.

The Greeks employed the Rose to decorate the tombs of the dead, and the floral decorations were frequently renewed, under the belief that this bush was potent to protect the remains of the departed one. Anacreon alludes to this practice in one of his odes:—

“When pain afflicts and sickness grieves,
Its juice the drooping heart relieves;
And after death its odours shed
A pleasing fragrance o’er the dead.”

The Romans, also, were so partial to the Rose, that we find, by old inscriptions at Ravenna and Milan, that codicils in the wills of the deceased directed that their tombs should be planted with the queen of flowers—a practice said to have been introduced by them into England. Camden speaks of the churchyards in his time as thickly planted with Rose-trees; Aubrey notices a custom at Ockley, in Surrey, of planting Roses on the graves of lovers; and Evelyn, who lived at Wotton Place, not far distant, mentions the same practice. In Wales, White Roses mark the graves of the young and of unmarried females; whilst Red Roses are placed over anyone distinguished for benevolence of character.

All nations at different periods seem to have delighted to deck the graves of their departed relatives with garlands of flowers—emblems at once of beauty and quick fading into death.

“With fairest flowers
While summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,
I’ll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack
The flower that’s like thy face, pale Primrose; nor
The azured Hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of Eglantine, which, not to slander,
Out-sweetened not thy breath.”
Shakspeare (Cymbeline, Act IV.).

The flowers strewed over graves by the Greeks were the Amaranth, Myrtle, and Polyanthus. The practice was reprobated by the primitive Christians; but in Prudentius’s time they had adopted it, and it is expressly mentioned both by St. Ambrose and St. Jerome. The flowers so used were deemed typical of the dead: to the young were assigned the blossoms of Spring and Summer: to middle-age, aromatic herbs and branches of primeval trees.

Amaranthus was employed by the Thessalians to decorate the grave of Achilles; and Electra is represented as uttering the complaint that the tomb of her father Agamemnon had not been adorned with Myrtle:—

“With no libations, nor with Myrtle boughs,
Were my dear father’s manes gratified.”

Virgil, when recounting the sorrow of Anchises at the loss of Marcellus, causes him to exclaim:—

“Full canisters of fragrant Lilies bring,
Mix’d with the purple Roses of the Spring.
Let me with fun’ral flowers his body strew.”

In Germany, and in the German Cantons of Switzerland, the custom of decking graves is very common. The Dianthus is a favourite flower for this purpose in Upper Germany. In the beautiful little churchyard at Schwytz, almost every grave is entirely covered with Pinks.

The cemetery of Père la Chaise, near Paris, exhibits proofs of the extent to which the custom of decking graves is preserved even by a metropolitan population and among persons of some rank. Numerous shops in the neighbourhood of this cemetery are filled with garlands of Immortelles or Everlasting Flowers, which are purchased on fête days and anniversaries, and placed on the graves. The branches of Box, or Bois béni, which are used in the place of Palms and Palm-leaves, are frequently stuck over graves in France.

“Fair flowers in sweet succession should arise
Through the long, blooming year, above the grave;
Spring breezes will breathe gentlier o’er the turf,
And summer glance with mildest, meekest beam,
To cherish piety’s dear offerings. There
Rich sounds of Autumn ever shall be heard,—
Mysterious, solemn music, waked by winds
To hymn the closing year! And when the touch
Of sullen Winter blights the last, last gem,
That bloomed around the tomb—O! there should be
The polished and enduring Laurel—there
The green and glittering Ivy, and all plants,
All hues and forms, delicious, that adorn
The brumal reign, and often waken hopes
Refreshing. Let eternal verdure clothe
The silent fields where rest the honoured dead,
While mute affection comes, and lingers round
With slow soft step, and pensive pause, and sigh,
All holy.”—Carrington.

In Egypt, Basil is scattered over the tombs by the women, who repair to the sepulchres of the dead twice or thrice every week, to pray and weep over the departed. In Italy, the Periwinkle, called by the peasantry fior di morto, or Death’s flower, is used to deck their children who die in infancy. In Norway, branchlets of Juniper and Fir are used at funerals, and exhibited in houses in order to protect the inhabitants from the visitation of evil spirits. The Freemasons of America scatter sprays of Acacia (Robinia) on the coffins of brethren. In Switzerland, a funeral wreath for a young maiden is composed of Hawthorn, Myrtle, and Orange-blossom. In the South of France, chaplets of white Roses and Orange-blossom are placed in the coffins of the young.

The Greeks and Romans crowned the dead with flowers, and the mourners wore them at the funeral ceremonies. It should be mentioned that the Romans did not generally bury their dead before the time of the Antonines. The bodies of the dead were burnt, and the ashes placed in an urn.

The funeral pyre of the ancients consisted of Cypress, Yew, Fir, and other trees and shrubs. The friends of the deceased stood by during the cremation, throwing incense on the fire and libations of wine. The bones and ashes were afterwards collected, cleansed, mixed with precious ointments, and enclosed in funeral urns. Agamemnon is described by Homer in the ‘Odyssey,’ as informing Achilles how this ceremony had been performed upon him:—

“But when the flames your body had consumed,
With oils and odours we your bones perfumed,
And wash’d with unmixed wine.”

Virgil, in describing the self-sacrifice, by fire, of Dido, speaks thus of the necessary preparations:—

“The fatal pile they rear
Within the secret court, exposed in air.
The cloven Holms and Pines are heaped on high;
And garlands in the hollow spaces lie.
Sad Cypress, Vervain, Yew, compose the wreath,
And every baleful flower denoting death.”

The repast set apart by custom for the dead consisted of Lettuces and Beans. It was customary among the ancients to offer Poppies as a propitiation to the manes of the dead. The Romans celebrated festivals in honour of the spirits of the departed, called Lemuria, where Beans were cast into the fire on the altar. The people also threw black Beans on the graves of the deceased, or burnt them, as the smell was supposed to be disagreeable to the manes. In Italy, at the present day, it is customary to eat Beans and to distribute them among the poor on the anniversary of a death.

The practice of embalming the bodies of their dead, which was universal among the ancient Egyptians, had its origin, according to Diodorus, in the desire of the wealthy to be able to contemplate, in the midst of luxurious appointments, the features of their ancestors. Several times a year the mummies were brought out of the splendid chambers where they were kept; incense was burnt over them, and sweet-scented oil was poured over their heads, and carefully wiped off by a priest called in expressly to officiate. Herodotus has given us a description of the Egyptian method of embalming:—The brains having first been extracted through the nostrils by means of a curved iron probe, the head was filled with drugs. Then, with a sharp Ethiopian stone, an incision was made in the side, through which the intestines were drawn out; and the cavity was filled with powdered Myrrh, Cassia, and other perfumes, Frankincense excepted. Thus prepared, the body was sewn up, kept in natron (sesquicarbonate of soda) for seventy days, and then swathed in fine linen, smeared with gum, and finally placed in a wooden case made in the shape of a man. This was the best and most expensive style of embalming. A cheaper mode consisted in injecting oil of Cedar into the body, without removing the intestines, whilst for the poorer classes the body was merely cleansed; subjecting it in both cases to a natron bath, which completely dried the flesh. The Jews borrowed the practice of embalming from the Egyptians; for St. Mark records that, after the death of our Saviour, Nicodemus “brought a mixture of Myrrh and Aloes, about an hundred pound weight. Then took they the body of Jesus, and wound it in linen clothes with the spices, as the manner of Jews is to bury.”

#### Old English Funeral Customs.

In England, there long prevailed an old custom of carrying garlands before the bier of youthful beauty, which were afterwards strewed over her grave, In ‘Hamlet,’ the Queen, scattering flowers over the grave of Ophelia, says:—

“Sweets to the sweet. Farewell!
I hoped thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,
And not have strewed thy grave.”

The practice of planting and scattering flowers over graves is noticed by Gay, who says:—

“Upon her grave the Rosemary they threw,
The Daisy, Butter-flower, and Endive blue.”

Rosemary was considered as an emblem of faithful remembrance. Thus Ophelia says: “There’s Rosemary for you, that’s for remembrance; pray you, love, remember.” Probably this was the reason that the plant was carried by the followers at a funeral in former days: a custom noticed by the poet in the following lines:—

“To show their love, the neighbours far and near
Follow’d with wistful look the damsel’s bier;
Sprigg’d Rosemary the lads and lasses bore,
While dismally the parson walked before.”

It is still customary in some parts of England to distribute Rosemary among the company at a funeral, who frequently throw sprigs of it into the grave.

Wordsworth introduces in one of his smaller poems an allusion to a practice which still prevails in the North of England:—

“The basin of Box-wood, just six months before,
Had stood on the table at Timothy’s door;
A coffin through Timothy’s threshold had passed,
One child did it bear, and that child was his last.”

It is stated in a note that—“In several parts of the North of England, when a funeral takes place, a basin full of sprigs of Box-wood is placed at the door of the house from which the coffin is taken up; and each person who attends the funeral ordinarily takes a sprig of this Box-wood, and throws it into the grave of the deceased.” Pepys mentions a churchyard near Southampton, where, in the year 1662, the graves were all sown with Sage.

Unfortunate lovers had garlands of Yew, Willow, and Rosemary laid on their biers; thus we read in the ‘Maid’s Tragedy’:—

“Lay a garland on my hearse
Of the dismal Yew;
Maidens, Willow branches bear;
Say that I died true.
My love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth.
Upon my buried body lie
Lightly gentle earth.”

It was an old English custom, at the funeral of a virgin, for a young woman to precede the coffin in the procession, carrying on her head a variegated garland of flowers and sweet herbs. Six young girls surrounded the bier, and strewed flowers along the streets to the place of burial. It was also formerly customary to carry garlands of sweet flowers at the funeral of dear friends and relatives, and not only to strew them on the coffin, but to plant them permanently on the grave. This pleasing practice, which gave the churchyard a picturesque appearance, owed its origin to the ancient belief that Paradise is planted with fragrant and beautiful flowers—a conception which is alluded to in the legend of Sir Owain, where the celestial Paradise, which is reached by the blessed after their passage through purgatory, is thus described:—

“Fair were her erbers with floures;
Rose and Lili divers colours,
Primros and Parvink,
Mint, Feverfoy, and Eglenterre,
Columbin and Mother-wer,
Than ani man may bithenke
It berth erbes of other maner,
Than ani in erth groweth here,
Though that is best of priis;
Evermore thai grene springeth,
For Winter no sooner it us cloyeth,
And sweeter than licorice.”

In South Wales, the custom of planting and ornamenting graves is noticed by Brand in his ‘Popular Antiquities,’ as being very common. He tells us that, in Glamorgan, many churchyards have something like the splendour of a rich and various parterre. Besides this, it is usual to strew the graves with flowers and evergreens (within the church as well as out of it) at least thrice a year, on the same principle of delicate respect as the stones are whitened. No flowers or evergreens are permitted to be planted on graves but such as are sweet-scented: the Pink and Polyanthus, Sweet Williams, Gilliflowers and Carnations, Mignonette, Thyme, Hyssop, Camomile, and Rosemary make up the pious decoration of this consecrated garden. Turnesoles, Peonies, the African Marigold, the Anemone, and some other flowers, though beautiful, should never be planted on graves, because they are not sweet-scented.

The prejudice against old maids and old bachelors subsists among the Welsh in a very marked degree, so that their graves have not unfrequently been planted, by some satirical neighbours, not only with Rue, but with Thistles, Nettles, Henbane, and other noxious weeds.

In Glamorganshire, the old custom is still retained of strewing the bed whereon a corpse rests with fragrant flowers. In the South of England a chaplet of white Roses is borne before the corpse of a maiden by a young girl nearest in age and resemblance to the deceased, and afterwards hung up over her accustomed seat at church.

#### Plants as Death Portents.

Though scarcely to be characterised as “funereal,” there are some plants which have obtained a sinister reputation as either predicting death themselves, or being associated in some manner with fatal portents. Mannhardt tells us of a gloomy Swiss tradition, dating from the fifteenth century, which relates that the three children of a bootmaker of Basle having each in their garden a favourite tree, carefully studied the inflorescence during Lent. As the result of their close observation, the two sisters, Adelaide and Catherine, saw from the characteristics of the blossoms that they were predestined to enter a convent; whilst the boy Jean attentively watched the development of a red Rose, which predicted his entry into the Church and his subsequent martyrdom: as a matter of fact, it is said he was martyred at Prague by the Hussites.

The Greeks regarded Parsley as a funereal herb, and were fond of strewing the tombs of their dead with it: hence it came in time to be thought a plant of evil augury, and those who were on the point of death were commonly spoken of as being in need of Parsley. Something of this association of Parsley with death is still to be found in Devonshire, where a belief exists that to transplant Parsley is an offence against the guardian spirit who watches over the Parsley-beds, surely to be punished, either by misfortune or death, on the offender himself or some member of his family within a year.

In the Siebenbürgen of Saxony, the belief exists that at the moment when an infant dies in the house, Death passes like a shadow into the garden, and there plucks a flower.

In Italy, the red Rose is considered to be an emblem of an early death, and it is thought to be an evil omen if its leaves are perchance scattered on the ground. An apt illustration of this belief is found in the tragic story of poor Miss Ray, who was murdered at the Piazza entrance of Covent Garden Theatre, by a man named Hackman, on April 7th, 1779. Just prior to starting with her friend Mrs. Lewis for the theatre, a beautiful Rose fell from her bosom to the ground. She stooped to regain it, but at her touch the red leaves scattered themselves on the carpet, leaving the bare stalk in her hand. The unfortunate girl, who had been depressed in spirits before, was evidently affected by the incident, and said nervously, “I trust I am not to consider this as an evil omen!” Soon rallying, however, she cheerfully asked Mrs. Lewis to be sure and meet her after the theatre—a request the fulfilment of which was prevented by her untimely fate.

Shakspeare has recorded that the withering of the Bay was looked upon as a certain omen of death; and it is an old fancy that if a Fir-tree be struck, withered, or burnt with lightning, the owner will soon after be seized with a mortal illness.

Herrick, in his ‘Hesperides,’ alludes to the Daffodil as being under certain circumstances a death portent.

“When a Daffodill I see
Hanging down her head t’wards me,
Guess I may what I must be:
First, I shall decline my head;
Secondly, I shall be dead;
Lastly, safely buried.”

In Northamptonshire, a belief exists that if an Apple-tree blooms after the fruit is ripe, it surely portends death:—

“A bloom upon the Apple-tree when the Apples are ripe,
Is a sure termination to somebody’s life.”

In Devonshire, it is considered very unlucky to plant a bed of Lilies of the Valley, as the person who does this will in all probability die before twelve months have expired; and in the same county, a plentiful season for Hazel-nuts is believed to portend unusual mortality: hence the saying—

“Many Nits [Nuts],
Many pits [graves].”

Sloes are also sometimes associated with this portent, as another version of the rhyme runs—

“Many Slones [Sloes], many groans,
Many Nits, many pits.”

It is thought very unlucky in Sussex to use green brooms in May, and an old saying is current in the same county that—

“If you sweep the house with Broom in May,
You’ll sweep the head of that house away.”

In West Sussex, there exists the strange idea that if anyone eats a Blackberry after Old Michaelmas Day (October 10th), death or disaster will alight either on the eater or his kinsfolk before the year is out.

In some parts of England a superstition exists that if in a row of Beans one should chance to come up white, instead of green, a death will occur in the family within the year.

In certain English counties there is a superstitious dread that if a drill go from one end of the field to the other without depositing any seed, some person on the farm will die either before the year is out or before the crop then sown is reaped.

There is a very ancient belief that if every vestige of the Christmas decorations is not removed from the church before Candlemas Day (February 2nd), there will be a death during the year in the family occupying the pew where perchance a leaf or a berry has been left. Herrick has alluded to this superstitious notion in his ‘Hesperides’:—

“Down with the Rosemary, and so
Down with the Baies and Mistletoe:
Down with the Holly, Ivy, all
Wherewith ye dress the Christmas hall;
That so the superstitious find
Not one least branch left thar behind
For look, how many leaves there be
Neglected there (maids, trust to me)
So many goblins you shall see.”

## Part the Second.

### ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF PLANTS.

ACACIA.—In the deserts of Arabia the finest tree is the Acacia Seyal, which is reputed to be the Shittah tree of the Old Testament. The timber of this tree was termed Shittim, translated by some as “incorruptible wood.” In Exodus xxv. it is recorded that the Ark of the Lord was made of Shittim wood, overlaid within and without with pure gold, and having a crown of gold round about it; and in chapter xxvi. we read that the staves were made of the same wood, as were also the boards of the Tabernacle and the woodwork of the Altar on which the offerings were presented. From this same Acacia is obtained a fragrant and highly-prized gum which is employed as incense in religious ceremonials.——Tradition affirms that this Acacia—the Nabkha of the Arabians—was the tree from which was fabricated the Saviour’s crown of thorns. It has many small sharp spines, and the leaves resemble those of the Ivy with which the Roman Emperors were crowned, thus making the mockery bitterly complete.——The Buddhists make use of the wood of the Sami (Acacia Suma) to light the fire on their altars: this is done by striking it with the Asvattha, or Peepul—the act symbolising generation. This Acacia is one of the sacred trees of India, and yields an astringent or preservative substance.——The tree usually known in England by the name of Acacia is the Robinia pseudo-Acacia, or Locust-tree of America, named by Linnæus after the two Robins, herbalists to Henri IV., who introduced it into France in 1640. This tree would appear to have somewhat of a funeral character, since we find the American Freemasons make a practice of dropping twigs of it on the coffins of brethren. A sprig of Acacia is one of the emblems specially revered by Freemasons.——“It is curious,” says Mr. Reade, in ‘The Veil of Isis,’ “that Houzza, which Mahomet esteemed an idol—Houzza so honoured in the Arabian works of Ghatfan, Koreisch, Renanâh, and Salem—should be simply the Acacia. Thence was derived the word Huzza! in our language, which was probably at first a religious exclamation like the Evoke! of the Bacchantes.”——The English newspapers lately gave an account of a singular species of American Acacia, stated to be growing at Virginia, Nevada, and exhibiting all the characteristics of a sensitive plant. At the commencement of 1883 the Acacia was reported to be about eight feet high, and growing rapidly. When the sun sets, its leaves fold together and the ends of the twigs coil up like a pig-tail; and if the latter are handled, there is evident uneasiness throughout the plant. Its highest state of agitation was reached when the tree was removed from the pot in which it was matured into a larger one. To use the gardener’s expression, it went very mad. It had scarcely been planted in its new quarters before the leaves began to stand up in all directions, like the hair on the tail of an angry cat, and soon the whole plant was in a quiver. At the same time it gave out a most sickening and pungent odour, resembling that of a rattlesnake when teased. The smell so filled the house, that it was necessary to open all the doors and windows, and it was a full hour before the plant calmed down and folded its leaves in peace.

ACANTHUS.—The Acanthus was a favourite plant amongst both the Greeks and Romans, who employed it for decorative purposes: its leaves form the principal adornment of the Corinthian capital, which was invented by Callimachus. How the idea was suggested to the architect is told us by Vitruvius. A young Corinthian damsel fell ill and died. After her interment, her nurse gathered her trinkets and ornaments into a basket, and lest they should be injured by the weather, she covered the basket with a tile, and placed it near her young mistress’s tomb over the root of an Acanthus, the stalks and leaves of which burst forth in the Spring, and spreading themselves on the outside of the basket, were bent back again at the top by the corner of the tile. Callimachus happening to pass by, was charmed with the beauty and novelty of this accidental arrangement, and took from it the idea of the Corinthian chapter. Both Greeks and Romans made use of the Acanthus mollis in the form of garlands, with which they adorned their buildings, their furniture, and even their clothing. Theocritus speaks of a prize cup as having “a crust of soft Acanthus.” Virgil narrates that the plant formed the basis of a design embroidered on the mantle of Helen of Troy; and tells us that the handles of Alcimedon’s cup were enwreathed with what he elsewhere terms “Smiling Acanthus.”——Old English names for this plant were Brank-ursine and Bear’s-breech.——Acanthus is stated by astrologers to be under the dominion of the Moon.

ACHYRANTHES.—The Apamarga, an Indian variety of this plant, has given the name to the sacrificial rite called Apâmârga Homa, because at daybreak they offer a handful of flour made from the seeds of the Apamarga (Achyranthes aspera). According to a legend quoted by De Gubernatis, Indra had slain Vriitra and other demons, when he encountered the demon Namuchi and wrestled with him. Vanquished, he made peace with Namuchi on the understanding that he should never kill anything with a solid body, nor with a liquid body, neither by night nor by day. So Indra gathered a vegetable, which is neither solid nor liquid, and comes during the daybreak, when the night is past, but the day has not yet come. Then with the vegetable he attacked the monster Namuchi, who complained of this treachery. From the head of Namuchi sprang the plant Apâmârga. Indra afterwards destroyed all the monsters by means of this plant. As may be supposed after such a marvellous origin, the plant was soon looked upon as a powerful talisman. According to the Atharvaveda, it should be held in the hand, and invoked against the malady Kshetriya, and against witches, monsters, and nightmares. They call it the Victor, having in itself the strength of a thousand, destroying the effects of maledictions, and especially of those inimical to generation, which produce hunger, thirst, and poverty. It is also called the Lord of salutary plants, son of Vibhindant, having received all its power from Indra himself. The Hindus believe that the plant is a security against the bites of scorpions.

Aconite.—See Monkshood.

ACORUS.—This aromatic Reed, or Sweet Flag, is absurdly said to have been called Acorus, from the Greek koré, pupil, because it was esteemed good for diseases of the eye. The sacred oil of the Jews—the “oil of holy ointment”—used to anoint the tabernacle, the ark of the testimony, the altar of burnt offerings, the altar of incense, the candlesticks, and all the sacred vessels, has the oil of Acorus as one of its ingredients. It is the “Sweet Calamus” mentioned in Exodus xxx.——The Acorus is a plant of the Moon.

ADDER’S TONGUE.—The Adder’s Tongue, or to give it its old Latin name, Christ’s Spear (Ophioglossum vulgatum), was formerly much prized as a remedy for wounds. Gerarde declared that boiled in olive oil it produced “a most excellent greene oyle, or rather a balsam for greene wounds comparable to oyle of St. John’s wort, if it doth not far surpasse it.” A preparation called the “green oil of charity” is still in request; and Adder’s Spear ointment (a compound of Adder’s Tongue Fern, Plantain, and sundry herbs) is well known in country places as a vulnerary. In olden times an Adder’s Tongue was reputed to be a wondrous cure for tumours, if plucked at the falling of the Moon, and applied with the accompaniment of an incantation.——Witches highly esteemed Adder’s Tongue as a plant to be employed in their spells. Astrologers class it as a herb of the Moon.

Affadyl.—See Narcissus.

AGNUS CASTUS.—The “Chaste Tree” (Vitex Agnus Castus), a species of Willow, derives its name from the Greek hagnos, and Latin castus, both meaning chaste. The name was given to it, according to Pliny, from the custom of the Athenian matrons to strew their beds with it during the festival of the Thesmophora, held in honour of Ceres, when the strictest chastity was enjoined. At the same festival young girls adorned themselves with blossoms of the shrub and slept on its leaves in order to guard their innocence and purity.——Agnus Castus was consecrated to Æsculapius, and also, in the isle of Samos, to Juno. Prometheus was crowned with it. At Grecian weddings, the bride and groom carried crowns of it. It was also employed as a preservative against poisoning.——The seed of this shrub in later years acquired the name of Piper Monachorum, and in explanation it is said that, following the example of the matrons of Athens, who had discovered that the odour of branches of Agnus Castus combatted unchaste thoughts and desires, certain Christian monks made themselves girdles of the flexible boughs of the tree, by wearing which they professed to expel from their hearts all passions that love could excite.——Some of the old herbalists affirm that the seeds of Agnus Castus had a very powerful effect in arresting generation. Gerarde says “Agnus Castus is a singular medicine and remedy for such as would willingly live chaste, for it withstandeth all uncleanness or desire to the flesh, consuming and drying up the seed of generation, in what sort soever it bee taken, whether in pouder onely, or the decoction drunke, or whether the leaves be carried about the body; for which cause it was called castus, that is to say, chaste, cleane, and pure.” The leaves, burnt or strewn about, were reputed to drive away serpents; and, according to Dioscorides, a branch of the shrub, carried in the hand, would keep wayfarers from weariness.——Agnus Castus is held to be under the dominion of Mars in Capricorn.

Albespyne.—See Hawthorn.

AGRIMONY.—The Agrimony or Egrimony (Agrimonia Eupatoria) was a herb much in vogue among the old herbalists, who attributed extraordinary virtues to it. Dioscorides prescribes it as a cure for the bitings and stingings of serpents. Gerarde says it is “good for them that have naughty livers,” and in fact it was at one time known as Liver-wort. Culpeper tells us that it will draw forth “thorns and splinters of wood, nails, or any other such thing gotten into the flesh,” and recommends it further as “a most admirable remedy for such whose lives are annoyed either by heat or cold.” Sore throat, gout, ague, colic, ear-ache, cancers, and ulcers are among the numerous complaints the herbalists professed to cure by means of syrups and salves made of Agrimony, a plant which has formed an ingredient in most of the herb teas which have been from time to time introduced.——The astrological government and virtues of Agrimony appear to the uninitiated somewhat complicated. If we may believe Culpeper, it is a herb under Jupiter and the sign Cancer, and strengthens those parts under the planet and sign, and removes diseases in them by sympathy; and those under Saturn, Mars, and Mercury by antipathy, if they happen in any part of the body governed by Jupiter, or under the signs Cancer, Sagittarius, or Pisces.——Michael Drayton, in his ‘Muse’s Elysium,’ thus refers to Agrimony, among other herbs dear to simplers:—

“Next these here Egrimony is,
That helps the serpent’s biting;
The blessed Betony by this,
Whose cures deserving writing.
“This All-heal, and so named of right,
New wounds so quickly healing;
A thousand more I could recite
Most worthy of revealing.”

ALDER.—The origin of the Alder is to be found in the following lines from Rapin’s poem on Gardens:—

“Of watery race Alders and Willows spread
O’er silver brooks their melancholy shade,
Which heretofore (thus tales have been believed)
Were two poor men, who by their fishing lived;
Till on a day when Pales’ feast was held,
And all the town with pious mirth was filled,
This impious pair alone her rites despised,
Pursued their care, till she their crime chastised:
While from the banks they gazed upon the flood,
The angry goddess fixed them where they stood,
Transformed to sets, and just examples made
To such as slight devotion for their trade.
At length, well watered by the bounteous stream,
They gained a root, and spreading trees became;
Yet pale their leaves, as conscious how they fell,
Which croaking frogs with vile reproaches tell.”

In Germany, Alders have often a funereal and almost diabolic character. It is a popular belief that they commence to weep, to supplicate, and to shed drops of blood if there is any talk of cutting them down.——A legend of the Tyrol narrates how a boy who had climbed a tree, overlooked the ghastly doings of certain witches beneath its boughs. They tore in pieces the corpse of a woman, and threw the portions in the air. The boy caught one, and kept it by him. The witches, on counting the pieces afterwards found that one was missing, and so replaced it by a scrap of Alder-wood, when instantaneously the dead came to life again.——Of the wood of the Alder, Virgil tells us, the first boats were made:—Tunc Alnos primum fluvii sensere cavatas.——The Alder, or Aller, is said to be a tree of Venus, under the celestial signs of either Cancer or Pisces.

Alecost.—See Costmary.

Alehoof, Ground-Ivy.—See Ivy.

ALMOND.—According to an ancient tradition mentioned by Servius, the origin of the Almond-tree is to be traced to Phyllis, a beautiful Thracian queen, who became enamoured of Demophoon, the son of Theseus and Phædra, and was wedded to him. Demophoon, who, whilst returning from the Trojan war, had been cast by a storm on the coast of Thrace soon after his marriage with the Queen, was recalled to Athens by his father’s death. He promised faithfully to return to his royal bride at the expiration of a month, but failed to do so, and Phyllis, distracted at his continued absence, after several futile visits to the sea-shore, expired of grief, and was transformed into an Almond-tree, which is called Phylla by the Greeks. Some time after this metamorphosis the truant consort returned, and upon hearing of the untimely fate of Phyllis, he ran and clasped the tree in remorseful embrace. Loving even in death, his beautiful queen seems to have acknowledged his repentance, for the Almond-tree into which she had been transformed, although at that time stripped of its leaves, suddenly shot forth and blossomed, as if eager to show how unchangeable was poor Phyllis’s love.——A second account of the origin of the Almond-tree states that it sprang from the blood of the monster Agdistis, the offspring of Jupiter. This fable further narrates that the daughter of the river Sangarius fell in love with the beautiful tree, and after gathering its fruit, gave birth to a son named Atys.——A third account relates how Io, daughter of King Midas, was forsaken by Atys, whom she loved; and how Agdistis, on the death of Atys, mutilated his body, from which sprang the bitter Almond-tree, the emblem of grief.——Virgil made the flowering of the Almond a presage of the crop of Wheat.

“With many a bud if flowering Almonds bloom,
And arch their gay festoons that breathe perfume,
So shall thy harvest like profusion yield,
And cloudless suns mature the fertile field.”

The Hebrew word Shakad, from which the Almond derives its name, means to make haste, or to awake early, given to the tree on account of its hasty growth and early maturity. Aaron’s rod, which budded and brought forth fruit in the Tabernacle during one day, was of an Almond-tree: “It budded and brought forth buds, and bloomed blossoms, and yielded Almonds.” (Numbers xvii., 8). Among the Hebrews, the Almond-tree was regarded as the symbol of haste and vigilance, because of the suddenness of its blossoming, which announced the Spring. The Mahommedans consider its flowers typical of hope, because they bloom on the bare branches.——Romanists assign the blossoming Almond-tree to the Madonna, as Queen of Heaven.——In Tuscany, and other countries, a branch of the Almond-tree is employed to discover hidden treasures. It is carried to the place where the treasure is supposed to be concealed, and, according to popular superstition, its point will turn towards the exact spot. In the nuptial ceremonies of the Czechs, Almonds are distributed amongst the wedding guests.——Pliny considered Almonds a most powerful remedy against inebriation, and Plutarch relates an anecdote of a notorious wine-bibber, who, by his habitual use of bitter Almonds, used to escape being intoxicated.——The Almond-tree is under Jupiter. To dream of eating Almonds portends a journey: if they taste sweet, it will be a prosperous one; if bitter, the contrary.

ALOE.—The Hebrews appear to have entertained a great respect for the Aloe (Ahaloth). In the Bible it is frequently referred to in commendatory terms, and its use as a perfume is of very great antiquity. King David, in the Psalms, says: “All thy garments smell of Myrrh, and Aloes, and Cassia.” Solomon, in the Canticles, mentions Aloes as one of the chief spices; and in Proverbs (vii., 17) refers to it as a scent. Aloes is one of the spices mentioned by St. John as having been brought by Nicodemus to embalm the body of our Lord.——There are two trees which yield this fragrant wood, viz., Aloexylum Agallochum, a native of the mountains of Hindostan, and Aquilaria Malaccensis, which grows in Malacca: the wood of these aromatic trees forms the principal ingredient in the scented sticks burned by the Hindus and Chinese in their temples. The heart of the Chinese Aloe, or Wood Aloes, is called Calambac, or Tambac-wood, which is reckoned in the Indies more precious than gold itself: it is used as a perfume; as a specific for persons affected with fainting fits or with the palsy; and as a setting for the most costly jewels. Both the name and the plant of the aromatic Aloe are of Indian origin, and it must not be confounded with the common Aloes, most of which have an offensive smell and a bitter taste.——In Wood’s Zoography we read: “The Mahommedans respect the Aloe as a plant of a superior nature. In Egypt, it may be said to bear some share in their religious ceremonies, since whoever returns from a pilgrimage to Mecca hangs it over his street door as a proof of his having performed that holy journey. The superstitious Egyptians believe that this plant hinders evil spirits and apparitions from entering the house, and on this account whoever walks the streets in Cairo will find it over the doors of both Christians and Jews.”——The Arabic name of the Aloe, Saber, signifies patience, and in Mecca at the end of most graves, facing the epitaph, is planted an Aloe, as an allusion to the patience required by those awaiting the arrival of the great day of resurrection. Most Eastern poets, however, speak of the Aloe as the symbol of bitterness; and the Romans seem to have been well acquainted with this qualification, judging from the allusion to it in Juvenal:—“Plus Aloes quam mellis habere.” “As bitter as Aloes” is a proverbial saying of considerable antiquity, derived doubtless from the acrid taste of the medicines obtained from the plant, and made principally from the pulp of the fleshy leaf of the Succotrine Aloe, the leaves of which have a remarkable efficacy in curing scalds and burns.——Not only, however, for its medicinal properties is the Aloe esteemed, for in some countries, particularly Mexico, the poor derive from it almost every necessary of life. The ancient manuscripts of Mexico are chiefly inscribed upon paper made from the fibres of the pité, or pith. Of the points of the leaves of the Aloe are made nails, darts, and awls, and with these last the Indians pierce holes in their ears when they propose to honour the Devil with some peculiar testimonies of their devotion.

ALYSSUM.—This plant was regarded by the Neapolitans as possessing magic qualities, and was suspended in their houses as a charm against the Evil Eye. Its name Alyssum is derived from the Greek a, not, and lussa, madness. In England, the plant was called Alisson and Madwort, because, as Gerarde says, it is “a present remedie for them that are bitten of a mad dog.”

AMARANTH.—In Spenser’s ‘Fairy Queen’ is to be found the following allusion to the mythological origin of the Amaranth:—

“And all about grew every sort of flower,
To which sad lovers were transformed of yore;
Fresh Hyacinthus, Phœbus’ paramour,
Foolish Narciss, that likes the watery shore:
Sad Amaranthus, made a flower but late,
Sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore
Me seems I see Aminta’s wretched fate,
To whom sweet poets’ verse hath given endless date.”

The Amaranth was a sacred plant among the Greeks and Romans: from the former it received its name, which means “never-fading,” on account of the lasting nature of its blossoms. Hence it is considered the emblem of immortality. The Amaranth was also classed among the funeral flowers. Homer describes the Thessalians as wearing crowns of Amaranth at the funeral of Achilles; and Thessalus decorated the tomb of the same hero with Amaranth-blossoms. Philostratus records the custom of adorning tombs with flowers, and Artemidorus tells us that the Greeks were accustomed to hang wreaths of Amaranth in most of the temples of their divinities: and they regarded the Amaranth as the symbol of friendship. Milton crowns with Amaranth the angelic host assembled before the Deity:—

“With solemn adorations down they cast
Their crowns, inwove with Amaranth and gold—
Immortal Amaranth, a flower which once
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life,
Began to bloom, but soon for man’s offence
To heaven removed, where first it grew.”

The same poet, as well as Spenser, classes the Amaranth amongst “those flowers that sad embroidery wear.”——In Sumatra, the people of the Batta country lead in times of peace a purely pastoral life, and are accustomed to play on a kind of flute crowned with garlands of Amaranth and other flowers.——At the Floral Games at Toulouse, a golden Amaranth was awarded for the best lyric composition.——In modern times, the Amaranth has given its name to an order instituted by Queen Christiana of Sweden, in the year 1633, at an entertainment given in honour of Don Antonio Pimentel, the Spanish Ambassador. On this occasion she appeared in a dress covered with diamonds, attended by a suite nobles and ladies. At the conclusion of the ball she stripped her attire of the diamonds, and distributed them among the company, at the same time presenting the new order of knighthood, consisting of a ribbon and medal, with an Amaranth in enamel, encircled with the motto Dolce nella memoria.——In Roman Catholic countries, more especially in Portugal, the species of the flower known as the Globe Amaranth, Prince’s Feathers, and Cock’s Comb, are much cultivated for church decoration at Christmas time and during the Winter. The Amaranth is also selected as one of the flowers peculiarly appropriate to Ascension Day.——The species of Amaranth which we know as Love-lies-bleeding, has, in France, the singular name of Discipline des religieuses, the Nun’s Scourge.——The Amaranth was formerly known as Flower Gentle, Flower Velure, Floramor, and Velvet Flower. It is said to be under Saturn, and to be an excellent qualifier of the unruly actions of Venus.

AMBROSIA.—The Ambrosia-tree, or tree bearing immortal food, is one of the most popular guises of the Hindu world-trees. The Paradise of Indra had five trees, under the refreshing shade of which the gods reclined and enjoyed life-inspiring draughts of Ambrosia or Amrita. The chief of these trees was the Pârijâta (usually identified with the Erythrina Indica), and this was deemed the Ambrosia-tree.——The Greeks knew a herb which they named Ambrosia, the food of immortals, and it was so called by the ancients because they believed that a continued use of it rendered men long-lived, just as the ambrosia of the gods preserved their immortality. The Moors to this day entertain a belief in the existence of such a plant. The old English name given to this herb was Ambrose, which was applied to the Chenopodium Botrys; but the ancients seem to have applied the name of Ambrosia to the Field Parsley, the Wild Sage, and the Chenopodium ambrosioides. The plant known as Ambrosia at the present day belongs to the Wormwood family.

AMELLUS.—This plant is believed to be a species of Starwort. Virgil, in the Fourth Book of his Georgics, states that at Rome it was employed to decorate the altars of the gods. Gerarde says that the Starwort having a blue or purple flower is that referred to by Virgil as the Amellus in the following lines:—

“In meads there is a flower Amello named,
By him that seeks it easy to be found,
For that it seems by many branches framed
Into a little wood: like gold the ground
Thereof appears; but leaves that it beset
Shine in the colour of the Violet.”

AMORPHOPHALLUS.—The gigantic Aroid, Amorphophallus campanulatus, or Carrion Plant of Java, is regarded with repugnance as a plant of ill-omen. Previous to the sudden bursting, about sunset, of the spathe containing the spadix, there is an accumulation of heat therein. When it opens, it exhales an offensive odour that is quite overpowering, and so much resembles that of carrion, that flies cover the club of the spadix with their eggs.

ANDHAS.—The luminous plant of the Vedic Soma. The plant is also called in general Arjunî, that is to say, Shining. From Andhas it is supposed the Greek word anthos was derived.

ANDROMEDA.—This shrub owes its classical appellation to Linnæus, who gave it the name of Andromeda after the daughter of Cepheus and Cassiope. Ovid, in his ‘Metamorphoses,’ has sung how, lashed to a rock, she was exposed to a sea monster, sent by Neptune to ravage her father’s country, and how she was at last rescued by Perseus, and became his bride. Linnæus thus explains why he gave the Marsh Cistus the name of the classical princess:—“As I contemplated it, I could not help thinking of Andromeda, as described by the poets—a virgin of most exquisite beauty and unrivalled charms. The plant is always fixed in some turfy hillock in the midst of the swamps, as Andromeda herself was chained to a rock in the sea, which bathed her feet as the fresh water does the root of the plant. As the distressed virgin cast down her blushing face through excessive affliction, so does the rosy-coloured flower hang its head, growing paler and paler till it withers away. At length comes Perseus, in the shape of Summer, dries up the surrounding waters, and destroys the monster.” The leaves of this family of plants have noxious properties, and the very honey is said to be poisonous.

ANEMONE.—The origin of the Anemone, according to Ovid, is to be found in the death of Adonis, the favourite of Venus. Desperately wounded by a boar to which he had given chase, the ill-fated youth lay expiring on the blood-stained grass, when he was found by Venus, who, overcome with grief, determined that her fallen lover should hereafter live as a flower.

“Then on the blood sweet nectar she bestows;
The scented blood in little bubbles rose;
Little as rainy drops, which flutt’ring fly,
Borne by the winds, along a lowering sky.
Short time ensued till where the blood was shed
A flower began to rear its purple head.
Such as on Punic Apples is revealed,
Or in the filmy rind but half concealed,
Still here the fate of lovely forms we see,
So sudden fades the sweet Anemone.
The feeble stems to stormy blasts a prey,
Their sickly beauties droop and pine away.
The winds forbid the flowers to flourish long,
Which owe to winds their names in Grecian song.”—Congreve.

The Greek poet, Bion, in his epitaph on Adonis, makes the Anemone the offspring of the tears of the sorrowing Venus.

“Alas the Paphian! fair Adonis slain!
Tears plenteous as his blood she pours amain,
But gentle flowers are born and bloom around
From every drop that falls upon the ground.
Where streams his blood, there blushing springs the Rose,
And where a tear has dropped, a Wind-flower blows.”

Rapin, in his poem, gives a somewhat similar version of the origin of the Anemone. He says:—

“For while what’s mortal from his blood she freed,
And showers of tears on the pale body shed,
Lovely Anemones in order rose,
And veiled with purple palls the cause of all her woes.”

In Wiffen’s translation of the Spanish poet Garcilaso, we find the red colour only of the Anemone attributed to the blood of Adonis:—

“His sunbeam-tinted tresses drooped unbound,
Sweeping the earth with negligence uncouth;
The white Anemones that near him blew
Felt his red blood, and red for ever grew.”

Rapin recounts another story, according to which the Anemone was originally a nymph beloved by Zephyr. This is, perhaps, an explanation of the name of the flower, which is derived from Anemos, the wind.

“Flora, with envy stung, as tales relate,
Condemned a virgin to this change of fate;
From Grecian nymphs her beauty bore the prize,
Beauty the worst of crimes in jealous eyes;
For as with careless steps she trod the plain,
Courting the winds to fill her flowing train,
Suspicious Flora feared she soon would prove
Her rival in her husband Zephyr’s love.
So the fair victim fell, whose beauty’s light
Had been more lasting, had it been less bright:
She, though transformed, as charming as before,
The fairest maid is now the fairest flower.”

The English name of Wind-flower seems to have been given to the Anemone because some of the species flourish in open places exposed to the wind, before the blasts of which they shiver and tremble in the early Spring. Pliny asserts that the flower never blooms except when the winds blow.——With the Egyptians, the Anemone was the emblem of sickness. According to Pliny, the magicians and wise men in olden times were wont to attribute extraordinary powers to the plant, and ordained that everyone should gather the first Anemone he or she saw in the year, the while repeating, with due solemnity—“I gather thee for a remedy against disease.” The flower was then reverently wrapped in scarlet cloth, and kept undisturbed, unless the gatherer became indisposed, when it was tied either around the neck or arm of the patient. This superstition extended to England, as is shown by the following lines in a ballad:—

“The first Spring-blown Anemone she in his doublet wove,
To keep him safe from pestilence wherever he should rove.”

The Anemone was held sacred to Venus, and the flower was highly esteemed by the Romans, who formed it into wreaths for the head.——In some countries, people have a strong prejudice against the flowers of the field Anemone: they believe the air to be so tainted by them, that those who inhale it often incur severe illness. Shakspeare has given to the Anemone the magical power of producing love. In ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ (Act 2), Oberon bids Puck place an Anemone-flower on the eyes of Titania, who, on her awakening, will then fall in love with the first object she sees.——A once famed Parisian florist, named Bachelier, having procured some rare Anemones from the East, would not part with a root, either for love or money. For ten years he contrived to keep the treasures to himself, until a wily senator paid him a visit, and, walking round the garden, observed that the cherished Anemones were in seed. Letting his robe fall upon the plants as if by accident, he so swept off a number of the little feathery seeds, which his servant, following close upon his heels, brushed off his master’s robe and secretly appropriated; and before long the niggardly florist had the mortification of seeing his highly-prized “strain” in the possession of his neighbours and rivals.——The Anemone is held to be under the dominion of Mars.

ANGELICA.—The strong and widely-diffused belief in the manifold virtues of this plant is sufficient to account for its angelic name, although Fuchsius was of opinion that it was called Angelica either from the sweet scent of its root, or its value as a remedy against poisons and the plague. Its old German name of Root of the Holy Ghost is still retained in some northern countries. The Laplanders believe that the use of it strengthens life, and they therefore chew it as they would do Tobacco; they also employ it to crown their poets, who fancy themselves inspired by its odour.——Parkinson says that “it is so goode an herbe that there is no part thereof but is of much use.”——Du Bartas wrote—

“Contagious aire ingendering pestilence
Infects not those that in their mouths have ta’en
Angelica, that happy counterbane
Sent down from heav’n by some celestial scout,
As well the name and nature both avowt.”
Sylvester’s trans., 1641.

Angelica was popularly believed to remove the effects of intoxication; according to Fuchsius, its roots, worn suspended round the neck, would guard the wearer against the baneful power of witches and enchantments; and Gerarde tells us that a piece of the root held in the mouth, or chewed, will drive away pestilential air, and that the plant, besides being a singular remedy against poisons, the plague, and pestilent diseases in general, cures the biting of mad dogs and all other venomous beasts. Regarding its astrological government, Culpeper observes that it is a “herb of the Sun in Leo. Let it be gathered when he is there, the moon applying to his good aspect; let it be gathered either in his hour, or in the hour of Jupiter; let Sol be angular.”

ANTHYLLIS.—The English names of this plant are Kidney Vetch, Lamb Toe, Lady’s Fingers, Silver Bush, and Jupiter’s Beard (from the thick woolly down which covers the calyxes of a species growing in the South of Europe). It was formerly employed as a vulnerary, and was recommended by Gesner as useful in staunching the effusion of blood: hence its old English names of Staunch and Wound-Wort. Clare says of it:—

“The yellow Lambtoe I have often got
Sweet creeping o’er the banks in sunny time.”

ANTIRRHINUM.—Columella alludes to this flower as “the stern and furious lion’s gaping mouth.” Its English names are Snap Dragon, Lion’s Snap, Toad’s Mouth, Dog’s Mouth, and Calf’s Snout.——In many rural districts the Snap Dragon is believed to possess supernatural powers, and to be able to destroy charms. It was formerly supposed that when suspended about the person, this plant was a protection from witchcraft, and that it caused a maiden so wearing it to appear “gracious in the sight of people.”

APPLE.—Whether the Apple, the Orange, the Pomegranate, the Fig, the Banana, or the Grape was the actual fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, which tempted Eve in Paradise, will possibly never be settled; but it is certain that not only is the Apple mystical above all the fruits of the earth, but it is the supreme fruit. To it has been given the Latin name Pomona, which is the generic name of fruit, just as Pomona is the goddess of all the fruit trees.

The Scandinavian goddess Iduna is in a measure identified with the Tree of Immortality, which was an Apple-tree. Iduna religiously guarded in a box the Apples which the gods, when they felt old age approaching, had only to taste the juice of to become young again. The evil genius, Loki, having been instrumental in the abduction of Iduna and her renovating Apples, the gods became old and infirm, and were unable properly to govern the world; they, therefore, threatened Loki with condign punishment unless he succeeded in bringing back Iduna and her mystic Apples: this he fortunately succeeded in doing.

The golden Apples which Juno presented to Jupiter on the day of their nuptials were placed under the watchful care of a fearful dragon, in the garden of the Hesperides; and the obtaining of some of these Apples was one of the twelve labours of Hercules. By stooping to pick up three of these golden Apples presented by Venus to Hippomenes, Atalanta lost her race, but gained him as a husband. The fatal Apple—inscribed DETUR PULCHRIORI—thrown by the malevolent Discordia into the assembly of the gods, and which Paris adjudged to Venus, caused the ruin of Troy and infinite misfortune to the Greeks.

The Apple was sacred to Venus, who is often represented with the fruit in her hand. The Thebans worshipped Hercules, under the name of Melius, and offered Apples at his altar, the custom having, according to tradition, originated as follows:—The river Asopus being once so swollen as to prevent some youths from bringing across it a sheep destined to be sacrificed to Hercules, one of them recollected that the Apple was called by the same name—Mêlon. In this emergency, therefore, it was determined to offer an Apple, with four little sticks stuck in it to resemble legs, as a substitute for a sheep; and it being deemed that the sacrifice was acceptable, the Apple was thenceforth devoted to Hercules. The god Apollo was sometimes represented with an Apple in his hand.

The Celtic “Isle of the Blest,” the “fair Avalon,” is the “Island of Apples,”

“Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly, but it lies
Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns,
And bowery hollows crowned with Summer sea.”

It has been attempted to localise the Island of Apples either at Glastonbury, in Somersetshire, or at Aiguilon, in Brittany. A Gaelic legend which asserts the claims of an island in Loch Awe to be identified as the Isle of the Blest, changes the mystic Apples into the fruit of the Pyrus cordata, a species of wild Pear, indigenous both to the Scotch island and to Aiguilon.

The Druids highly reverenced the Apple-tree, partly on account of its fruit, but chiefly because they believed that the Mistletoe thrived on it and on the Oak only. In consequence of its reputed sanctity, therefore, the Apple was largely cultivated by the early Britons, and Glastonbury was known as the “Apple Orchard,” from the quantity of fruit grown there previous to the Roman invasion. The Druids were wont to cut their divining-rods from the Apple-tree.

The Saxons highly prized the Apple, and in many towns established a separate market for the fruit. The following sentence from their Coronation Benediction shows with what importance it was regarded:—“May the Almighty bless thee with the blessing of heaven above, and the mountains and the valleys, with the blessings of the deep below, with the blessing of Grapes and Apples. Bless, O Lord, the courage of this Prince, and prosper the work of his hands; and by Thy blessing may this land be filled with Apples, with the fruit and dew of heaven, from the top of the ancient mountains, from the Apples of the eternal hills, from the fruits of the earth and its fulness.”

The old Saxon chronicles relate that before the battle of Senlac, King Harold pitched his camp beside the “hoar Apple-tree”—evidently a well-known object, that had doubtless preserved its quondam sacred character. Saint Serf, when on his way to Fife, threw his staff across the sea, from Inch Keith to Culross, and this staff, we are told, straightway took root and became the Apple-tree called Morglas.

Many ancient rites and ceremonies connected with this mystic tree are still practised in certain parts of the country, whilst others have of late become obsolete. In remote districts, the farmers and peasantry in Herefordshire, Devonshire, and Cornwall still preserve the ancient customs of saluting the Apple-trees on Christmas Eve. In some places, the parishioners walk in procession visiting the principal orchards in the parish. In each orchard one tree is selected as the representative of the rest; this is saluted with a certain form of words, which have in them the air of an incantation, and then the tree is either sprinkled with cider, or a bowl of cider is dashed against it, to ensure its bearing plentifully the ensuing year. In other places, the farmer and his servants only assemble on the occasion, and after immersing cakes in cider, they hang them on the Apple-trees. They then sprinkle the trees with cider, and encircling the largest, they chant the following toast three times:—

“Here’s to thee, old Apple-tree,
Whence thou may’st bud, and whence thou may’st blow;
And whence thou may’st bear Apples enow.
Hats full! caps full!
Bushel, bushel, sacks full!
And my pockets full, too!
Huzza! Huzza!”

After this the men dance round the tree, and retire to the farm-house to conclude, with copious draughts of cider, these solemn rites, which are undoubtedly relics of paganism.

In Sussex, the custom of “worsling” or wassailing Apple-trees still exists. Formerly it took place, according to the locality, some time between Christmas Eve and Twelfth Day. The most popular wassail rhyme was similar to the above, but others were sung by the “howlers.” At Chailey this verse is used:—

“Stand fast root, bear well top,
Pray that God send us a good howling crop.
Every twig, Apples big.
Every bough, Apples enow.
Hats full, caps full,
Full quarters, sacks full.”

In West Sussex, during Christmas, the farmers’ labourers assemble for the purpose of wassailing the Apple-trees. A trumpeter sounds blasts on a bullock’s horn, and the party proceed to the orchard, where they encircle a tree or group of trees, and chant sonorously—

“Stand fast at root, bear well top,
Every twig, bear Apple big,
Every bough, bear Apple enow.”

A loud shout completes the ceremony, which is repeated till all the trees in the orchard have been encircled; after which the men proceed to the homestead, and sing at the owner’s door a song common for the occasion. They are then admitted, and partake of his hospitality.

At West Wickham, in Kent, a curious custom used to prevail in Rogation week. The young men went into the orchards, and, encircling each tree, said:—

“Stand fast, root, bear well, top,
God send us a youling sop;
Every twig, Apple big;
Every bough, Apple enow.”

Cider was formerly not the only drink concocted from the Apple; another famous potation was called “Lambswool,” or more correctly, lamasool, the derivation of the word being the Celtic lámaesabhal—the day of Apple fruit. This appellation was given to the first day of November, dedicated in olden times to the titular saint of fruit and seeds. The Lambswool was composed of ale and roasted Apples, flavoured with sugar and spice; and a bowl of this beverage was drunk, with some ceremony, on the last night of October. Roasted Apples formed an important item in the composition of the famed wassail-bowl. Shakspeare probably alludes to this beverage in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ where we find the mischievous Puck saying,

“Sometimes I lurk in a gossip’s bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted Crab.”

In Sussex, the wassail-bowl was formerly made at Christmas time; it was compounded of ale, sugar, Nutmeg, and roasted Apples, the latter being called Lambswool. On St. Clement’s day, in East Sussex, the custom exists of going round from house to house asking for Apples and beer: this is called Clemmening. A similar custom prevails on St. Catherine’s Day, when the children sing a rhyme commencing—

“Cattern’ and Clemen’ be here, here, here,
Give us your Apples and give us your beer.”

In Lowland Scotland, there is an old charm still practised by village maidens on Hallow-e’en. It is to go alone into a room, and eat an Apple in front of a looking-glass, when the face of the future husband will appear looking over the maid’s shoulder.

In Scotland, on Hallow-e’en, Apples are thrown into a tub of water, and you endeavour to catch one in your mouth as they bob around in provoking fashion. When you have caught one, you peel it carefully, and pass the long strip of peel thrice sunwise round your head, after which you throw it over your shoulder, and it falls to the ground in the shape of the initial letter of your true love’s name.

In some places, on this mystic night, a stick is suspended horizontally from the ceiling, with a candle at one end and an Apple at the other. While it is made to revolve rapidly, the revellers successively leap up, and endeavour to grasp the Apple with their teeth (the hands must not be used); if they fail, the candle generally swings round in time to salute them disagreeably. Another amusement is to dive for Apples in a tub of water.

In Sussex, on this eve, every person present fastens an Apple on a string, and hangs and twirls it before the fire. The owner of the Apple that first falls off is declared to be upon the point of marriage; and as they fall successively, the order in which the rest of the party will attain to matrimonial honours is clearly indicated, single blessedness being the lot of the one whose Apple is the last to drop.

The custom of throwing the peel of an Apple over the head, marriage or celibacy being foretold by its remaining whole or breaking, is well known, as is also that of finding in a peel so cast the initial of the coming sweetheart.

Mr. Dyer, in his ‘English Folk-lore,’ details a form of divination by means of an Apple-pip. “In Lancashire,” he says, “in order to ascertain the abode of a lover, the anxious inquirer moves round in a circle, at the same time squeezing an Apple-pippin between his finger and thumb. This, on being subjected to pressure, flies from the rind, in the supposed direction of the lover’s residence. Meanwhile, the following rhyme is repeated:—

‘Pippin, pippin, paradise,
Tell me where my true love lies;
East, west, north, and south,
Pilling brig or Cocker mouth.’”

It was formerly customary for Apples to be blessed by priests on July 25th; and in the manual of the Church of Sarum is preserved an especial form for this purpose. In Derbyshire, there is a saying that if the sun shines through the trees on Christmas Day, it ensures a good crop. In Northamptonshire, if the Apple-tree should bloom after the fruit is ripe, it is regarded as a sure omen of death. In the Apple-growing districts, there is an old saying that if it rains on St. Swithin’s Day, it is the Saint christening the Apples.

De Gubernatis, in his Mythologie des Plantes, gives several curious customs connected with the Apple, which are still extant in foreign countries. In Serbia, when a maiden accepts from her lover an Apple, she is engaged. In Hungary, a betrothed maiden, after having received from her lover the “engaged” ring, presents him with an Apple, the special symbol of all nuptial gifts. Young Greek girls never cease to invoke, upon marriage, the golden Apple. In Sicily, when a young man is in love, he presents the object of his affections with a love Apple. At Mount San Giuliano, in Sicily, on St. John’s Day, every young girl throws from the window of her room an Apple into the street, and watches to see who picks it up: should a woman do so, it is a sign that the maiden will not be married during the year; if the Apple is only looked at and not touched, it signifies that the maiden, after her marriage, will soon become a widow: if the first person passing is a priest, the young girl will die a virgin. In Montenegro, the mother-in-law presents an Apple to the young bride, who must try and throw it on the roof of her husband’s house: if the Apple falls on the roof, the marriage will be blest, that is to say there will be children. At Taranto, in Southern Italy, at the wedding breakfast, when the Apples are introduced, each guest takes one, and having pierced it with a knife, places a piece of silver money in the incision: then all the Apples are offered to the young bride, who bites each, and takes out the money.

In a Roumanian legend, the infant Jesus, in the arms of the blessed Virgin, becomes restless, will not go to sleep, and begins to cry. The Virgin, to calm the Holy Child, gives Him two Apples. The infant throws one upwards, and it becomes the Moon; He then throws the second, and it becomes the Sun. After this exploit, the Virgin Mary addresses Him and foretells that He will become the Lord of Heaven.

In old pictures of St. Dorothea, the virgin martyr is represented with a basket containing Apples and Roses: this is in allusion to the legend of her death, which tells that as Dorothea was being led forth to martyrdom, Theophilus, a lawyer, mockingly bade her send him fruits and flowers from Paradise. Dorothea, inclining her head, said, “Thy request, O Theophilus, is granted!” Whereat he laughed aloud with his companions, but she went on cheerfully to death. Arrived at the place of execution, she knelt down and prayed; and suddenly there appeared at her side a beautiful boy, with hair bright as sunbeams. In his hand he held a basket containing three Apples and three fresh-gathered and fragrant Roses. She said to him, “Carry these to Theophilus, and say that Dorothea hath sent them, and that I go before him to the garden whence they came, and await him there.” With these words she bent her neck, and received the death-stroke. Meantime, the angelic boy sought Theophilus, and placed before him the basket of celestial fruit and flowers, saying, “Dorothea sends thee these,” and vanished. Struck by the marvellous incident, Theophilus tasted of the heavenly fruit, and commenced a new life, following in Dorothea’s footsteps, and eventually obtaining the crown of martyrdom.

Mr. Dyer quotes the following from ‘Notes and Queries’:—“In South-east Devon and the neighbourhood, a curious legend is, we learn, current among the farmers respecting St. Dunstan and the Apple-trees. It is said that he bought up a quantity of Barley, and therewith made beer. The Devil, knowing that the Saint would naturally desire to get a good sale for his beer, which he had just brewed, went to him and said, that if he would sell himself to him, then he (the Devil) would go and blight the Apple-trees, so that there should be no cider, and, consequently there would be a far greater demand for beer. St. Dunstan, naturally wishing to drive a brisk trade in his beer, accepted the offer at once; but stipulated that the trees should be blighted in three days, which days fell on the 17th, 18th, and 19th of May. In the almanacs, the 19th is marked as St. Dunstan’s Day, and, as about this time the Apple-trees are in blossom, many anxious allusions are generally made to St. Dunstan; and should, as is sometimes the case, a sharp frost nip the Apple-blossoms, they believe they know who has been at the bottom of the mischief. There seems to be several versions of this legendary superstition. According to some, on a certain night in June, three powerful witches pass through the air, and if they drop certain charms on the blossoming orchards, the crops will be blighted. In other parts of the country, this is known as ‘Frankum’s Night,’ and the story is, that long ago, on this night, one Frankum made ‘a sacrifice’ in his orchard, with the object of getting a specially fine crop. His spells were answered by a blight; and the night is thus regarded as most critical.”

In a Polish legend, derived doubtless from the myth of the Hesperides, the hawk takes the place of the dragon. A young princess, through magic, is shut up in a golden castle situated on a mountain of ice: before the castle she finds an Apple-tree bearing golden Apples. No one is able to come to this castle. Whenever a cavalier ascends the side of the ice mountain in order to release the princess, the hawk darts down and blinds his horse, and both horse and rider are precipitated down the abyss. At length the appointed hero arrives, slays the hawk, gathers the golden Apples, and delivers the princess.

According to a Hanoverian legend, a young girl descends to the infernal regions by means of a staircase, which she discovers under an Apple-tree growing at the back of the house. She sees a garden, where the sun seems to shine more brightly than on earth; the trees are blossoming or are loaded with fruit. The damsel fills her apron with Apples, which become golden when she returns to earth.

In the popular tales of all countries, the Apple is represented as the magical fruit par excellence. The Celtic priests held the Apple sacred, and in Gaelic, Norse, German, and Italian stories it is constantly introduced as a mysterious and enchanted fruit. Mr. Campbell, in the introduction to his Tales of the West Highlands, points out that when the hero wishes to pass from Islay to Ireland, he pulls out sixteen Apples and throws them into the sea one after another, and he steps from one to the other. When the giant’s daughter runs away with the king’s son, she cuts an Apple into a mystical number of small bits, and each bit talks. When she kills the giant, she puts an Apple under the hoof of the magic filly, and he dies, for his life is the Apple, and it is crushed. When the byre is cleansed, it is so clean, that a golden Apple would run from end to end and never raise a stain. There is a Gruagach who has a golden Apple, which is thrown at all comers, who, if they fail to catch it, die. When it is caught and thrown back by the hero, Gruagach an Ubhail, dies. There is a certain game called cluich an ubhail—the Apple play—which seems to have been a deadly game. When the king’s daughter transports the soldier to the green island on the magic table-cloth, he finds magic Apples which transform him, and others which cure him, and by which he transforms the cruel princess, and recovers his magic treasures. When the two eldest idle king’s sons go out to herd the giant’s cattle, they find an Apple-tree whose fruit moves up and down as they vainly strive to pluck it; in fact, in all Gaelic stories, the Apple when introduced has something marvellous about it.

So, in the German, in the ‘Man of Iron,’ a princess throws a golden Apple as a prize, which the hero catches three times, and carries off, and wins. In ‘Snow White,’ where the poisoned comb occurs, there is a poisoned magic Apple also. In the ‘Old Griffin,’ the rich princess is cured by rosy-cheeked Apples. In the ‘White Snake,’ a servant who understands the voice of birds, helps creatures in distress, gets them aid, and procures golden Apples from three ravens which fly over the sea to the end of the world, where stands the tree of life. When he had got the Apple, he and the princess eat it and marry. Again, in the ‘Wonderful Hares,’ a golden Apple is the gift for which the finder is to gain a princess; and that Apple grew on a tree, the sole one of its kind.

In Norse it is the same: the princess on the glass mountain held three golden Apples in her lap, and he who could ride up the hill and carry off the Apples was to win the prize; and the princess rolled them down to the hero, and they rolled into his shoe. The good girl plucked the Apples from the tree which spoke to her when she went down the well to the underground world; but the ill-tempered step-sister thrashed down the fruit; and when the time of trial came, the Apple-tree played its part and protected the poor girl.

In a French tale, a singing Apple is one of the marvels which Princess Belle Etoile and her brothers and her cousin bring from the end of the world. In an Italian story, a lady when she has lost her husband goes off to the Atlantic Ocean with three golden Apples; and the mermaid who has swallowed the husband shows first his head, then his body to the waist, and then to the knees, each time for a golden Apple. Then, finally, in the ‘Arabian Nights,’ there is a long story, called the Three Apples, which turns upon the theft of one, which was considered to have been of priceless value. The Apple-blossom is considered to be an emblem of preference. To dream of Apples betokens long life, success in trade, and a lover’s faithfulness.

APPLE OF SODOM.—The Solanum Sodomeum is a purple Egg-plant of which the fruit is naturally large and handsome. It is, however, subject to the attacks of an insect (a species of Cynips), which punctures the rind, and converts the interior of the fruit into a substance like ashes, while the outside remains fair and beautiful. It is found on the desolate shores of the Dead Sea, on the site of those cities of the plain the dreadful judgment on which is recorded in sacred history. Hence the fruit, called the Apple of Sodom, has acquired a sinister reputation, and is regarded as the symbol of sin. Its first appearance, it is said, is always attended with a bitter north-east wind, and therefore ships for the Black Sea take care to sail before the harbinger of bad weather comes forth. The fruit is reputed to be poisonous. Josephus, the Jewish historian, speaks of them as having “a fair colour, as if they were fit to be eaten; but if you pluck them with your hand, they vanish into smoke and ashes.” Milton, describing an Apple which added new torments to the fallen angels, compares it to the Apples of Sodom:—

“Greedily they pluck’d
The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew
Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed.
This mere delusion, not the touch but taste
Deceived; they fondly thinking to allay
Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit
Chewed bitter ashes.”

Henry Teonge, who visited the country round the Dead Sea in 1675, describes it as being “all over full of stones which looke just like burnt syndurs, and on some low shrubbs there grow small round things which are called Apples, but no witt like them. They are somewhat fayre to looke at, but touch them and they smoulder all to black ashes, like soote both for looks and smell.”—The name Apple of Sodom is also given to a kind of Gall-nut, which is found growing on various species of dwarf Oaks on the banks of the Jordan.—Dead Sea Apples is a term applied to the Bussorah Gall-nut, which is formed on the Oak Quercus infectoria by an insect, and being of a bright ruddy purple, but filled with a gritty powder, they are suggestive of the deceptive Apple of Sodom.

“Dead Sea fruits, that tempt the eye,
But turn to ashes on the lips.”

Apple of Paradise, or Adam’s Apple.—See Banana.

Apple, Love.—See Solanum.

Apple, Mad.—See Solanum.

APRICOT.—According to Columella, the Persians sent the Peach to Egypt to poison the inhabitants; and a species of Apricot is called by the people of Barbary, Matza Franca, or the “Killer of Christians.” The Persians call the Apricot of Iran, the “Seed of the Sun.” The ancients appear to have regarded it as a prophetical or oracular tree.——It was in the solitude of a grove of Apricot-trees that Confucius, the venerated Chinese sage, completed his commentaries on the King or ancient books of China, and beneath this shade he erected an altar, and solemnly thanked Heaven for having permitted him to accomplish his cherished task.——The name has undergone curious transformations: it is traceable to the Latin præcoqua, early; the fruit being supposed by the Romans to be an early Peach. The Arabs (although living near the region of which the tree is a native) took the Latin name, and twisted it into al burquq; the Spaniards altered its Moorish name into albaricoque; the Italians reproduced it as albicoces; the French from them got abricot; and we, in England, although taking the name from the French, first called it Abricock, or Aprecock, and finally Apricot.——The Apricot is under the dominion of Venus. To dream of this fruit denotes health, a speedy marriage, and every success in life.

ARBOR VITÆ.—This tree, otherwise known as Thuja, is called by Pliny, Thya (from thyon, a sacrifice). The resin of the Eastern variety is, in certain localities, frequently used instead of incense at sacrifices. How the tree acquired the name of Arbor Vitæ is not known, unless from some supposed virtue of its berries. Gerarde, who had only seen the Canadian variety, says of it that, of all the trees from that country, the Arbor Vitæ, or Thya, was “the most principall, and best agreeing unto the nature of man, as an excellent cordial, and of a very pleasant smell.” He also tells us that it was sometimes called Cedrus Lycia, and that it is not to be confounded with the Tree of Life mentioned in Genesis.

ARBUTUS.—The Arbutus, or Strawberry-tree (Arbutus unedo), was held sacred by the Romans. It was one of the attributes of Cardea, a sister of Apollo, who was beloved by Janus, guardian of gates and avenues. With a rod of Arbutus—virga Janalis—Cardea drove away witches and protected little children when ill or bewitched. The Romans employed the Arbutus, with other symbolic trees and flowers, at the Palilia, a festival held in honour of the pastoral goddess Pales. It was a Roman custom to deposit branches of the Arbutus on coffins, and Virgil tells us that Arbutus rods and Oak twigs formed the bier of young Pallas, the son of Evander. Horace, in his Odes, has celebrated the shade afforded by the Arbutus. Ovid speaks of the tree as “the Arbutus heavy with its ruby fruit,” and tells us that, in the Golden Age, the fruit afforded food to man. This fruit is called unedo, and Pliny is stated to have given it that name became it was so bitter that he who ate one would eat no more.——The Oriental Arbutus, or Andrachne, bears fruit resembling a scarlet Strawberry in size and flavour. In Greece, it has the reputation of so affecting serpents who feed upon it, that they speedily cease to be venomous. The water distilled from the leaves and blossom of the Arbutus was accounted a very powerful agent against the plague and poisons.

ARCHANGEL.—The name of Archangel is applied to the Angelica archangelica; the Red Archangel, Stachys sylvatica; the White Archangel, Lamium album; and the Yellow Archangel, L. Galeobdolon. Nemnich says, the plant originally obtained its name from its having been revealed by an angel, in a dream. Parkinson considers it was so called on account of its heavenly virtues. Gerarde remarks of it, that “the flowers are baked with sugar, as Roses are, which is called Sugar Roset: as also the distilled water of them, which is used to make the heart merry, to make a good colour in the face, and to refresh the vitall spirits.”

ARECA.—The Areca Catechu is one of the sacred plants of India, producing the perfumed Areca Nuts, favourite masticatories of the Indian races. So highly is this nut esteemed by the natives, that they would rather forego meat and drink than their precious Areca Nuts, which they cut into narrow pieces, and roll up with a little lime in the leaves of the Pepper, and chew. The Areca Palm is known in Hindostan as Supyari, and in Japan as Jambi. The Hindus adorn their gods with these Nuts, and forbid respectable women to deck either their heads or bosoms with them. According to Indian tradition, Devadamani, subduer of the gods, once appeared at the court of King Vikramâditya, to play with him, clothed in a robe the colour of the sky, having in his hand and in his mouth an Areca Nut enveloped in a leaf of the Kalpa-tree. This probably explains the Indian custom of presenting an Areca Nut to guests, which is eaten with the leaf of the Betel. In China, a similar custom prevails, but the Nut given there is the Betel Nut.

ARISTOLOCHIA.—The old English name of this plant was Birth-wort, derived from its reputed remedial powers in parturition—probably first suggested by the shape of the corolla—whence also its Greek name, from aristos, best, and locheia, delivery. According to Pliny, if the expectant mother desired to have a son, she employed Aristolochia, with the flesh of an ox.——Certain of the species are renowned, in some European countries, for having a wonderful influence over fishes and serpents. A. Serpentaria is reputed to be so offensive to the serpent tribe, that they will not only shun the place where it grows, but will even flee from any traveller who carries a piece of the plant in his hand. The snake jugglers of Egypt are believed to stupefy these reptiles by means of a decoction distilled from the plant, and it is asserted that a few drops introduced into the mouth of a serpent will so intoxicate it as to render it insensible and harmless.——Apuleius recommends the use of Aristolochia against the Evil Eye.——The Birth-wort is under the dominion of Venus.

ARKA.—This is the Indian name of the Calotropis gigantea, also called Arkapatra and Arkaparna (the lightning-leaved), the leaves of which present the cuneiform symbols of lightning. Arka, says De Gubernatis, is also the name of the Sun, and this explains why the Brahmins employed the leaf of the Calotropis on the occasion of sacrificing to the Sun. In each part of the Arka it is stated that a portion of the human body can be distinguished. Notwithstanding its grand name, and its beautiful appearance, people have a dread of approaching it, lest it should strike them blind. The origin of this superstition is to be found in the word Arka, which means both the sun and the lightning.

ARTEMISIA.—The genus of plants known as Artemisia was so called after the goddess Artemis (who was regarded by the Romans as identical with Diana, or the Moon), by reason of some of its species being used in bringing on precocious puberty. On this account, also, it is one of the plants specially under the influence of the Moon.—(See Southernwood and Wormwood).

ARUNDHATI.—This is the Brahminical name of a climbing plant of good omen, and to which, according to De Gubernatis, the Atharvaveda attributes magical properties against diseases of the skin. It gives milk to sterile cows, it heals wounds, it delivers men from sickness, it protects those who drink its juices. It is the sister of the water and of the gods; the night is its mother; the mist, the horse of Yama, its father; Aryaman its grandfather. It descends from the mouth of the horse of Yama.

ARUM.—The Germans call the Arum Aronswurzel, and entertain the notion that where this flourishes, the spirits of the wood rejoice. The majestic Ethiopian species of the Arum (Calla Æthiopica) is commonly called the Horn-flower, from the shape of its large white calyx. In tropical climates, the plant is a deadly poison. The Arum of English hedgerows, a flower of a very much humbler character, is known by a variety of quaint names, viz., Aaron, Cuckoo-pint, Cuckoo-pintle, Wake Robin, Friar’s Cowl, Priest’s-pintle, Lords-and-Ladies, Cows-and-Calves, Ramp, Starchwort, and, in Worcestershire, Bloody Men’s Fingers (from the red berries that surround the spadix). These blood-red spots have caused the plant to received in Cheshire the name of Gethsemane, because it is said to have been growing at the foot of the Cross, and to have received some drops of our Saviour’s blood.

“Those deep inwrought marks,
The villagers will tell thee,
Are the flower’s portion from the atoning blood
On Calvary shed. Beneath the Cross it grew.”

This flower, the Arum maculatum, is the English Passion-flower: its berries are highly poisonous, and every part of the plant is acrid; yet the root contains a farinaceous substance, which, when properly prepared, and its acrid juice expressed, is good for food, and is indeed sold under the name of Portland Sago.——Starch has been made from the root, and the French use it in compounding the cosmetic known as Cypress powder. A drachm weight of the spotted Wake Robin, either fresh or dry, was formerly considered as a sure remedy for poison and the plague. The juice of the herb swallowed, to the quantity of a spoonful, had the same effect. Beaten up with Ox-dung, the berries or roots were believed to ease the pains of gout.——Arum is under the dominion of Mars.

ASOKA.—The Saraca Indica, or Jonesia Asoka, is one of the sacred plants of India, which has from remotest ages been consecrated to their temple decoration, probably on account of the beauty of its orange-red blossoms and the delicacy of its perfume, which in the months of March and April is exhaled throughout the night. The tree is the symbol of love, and dedicated to Kâma, the Indian god of love. Like the Agnus Castus, it is reported to have a certain charm in preserving chastity: thus Sîtâ, the wife of Râma, when abducted by the monster Râvana, escapes from the caresses of the monster and finds refuge in a grove of Asokas. In the legend of Buddha, when Mâyâ is conscious of having conceived the Bodhisattva, under the guise of an elephant, she retires to a wood of Asoka trees, and then sends for her husband. The Hindus entertain the superstition that a single touch of the foot of a pretty woman is sufficient to cause the Asoka to flourish. The word asoka signifies that which is deprived of grief, and Asoka, or the tree without grief, is also one of the names of the Bodhidruma, the sacred tree of Buddha.

ASPEN.—A legend referring to the tremulous motion of this tree (Populus tremula—see Poplar) is to the following effect:—“At the awful hour of the Passion, when the Saviour of the world felt deserted in His agony, when earth, shaken with horror, rang the parting knell for Deity, and universal nature groaned: then, from the loftiest tree to the lowliest flower, all felt a sudden thrill, and trembling bowed their heads, all save the Aspen, which said: ‘Why should we weep and tremble? The trees and flowers are pure and never sinned!’ Ere it ceased to speak, an involuntary trembling seized its every leaf, and the word went forth that it should never rest, but tremble on until the Day of Judgment.” An old saying affirmed that the leaves of the Aspen were made from women’s tongues, which never ceased wagging; and allusion is made to this in the following rhyme by Hannay, 1622:—

“The quaking Aspen, light and thin,
In the air quick passage gives;
Resembling still
The trembling ill
Of tempers of womankind,
Which never rest,
But still are prest
To wave with every wind.”

The Bretons have a legend that the Saviour’s cross was made of Aspen wood; and that the ceaseless trembling of the leaves of this tree marks the shuddering of sympathetic horror. The Germans preserve an ancient tradition that, during their flight into Egypt, the Holy Family came to a dense forest, in which, but for an angelic guide, they must have lost their way. As they entered this wilderness, all the trees bowed themselves down in reverence to the infant God; only the Aspen, in her exceeding pride and arrogance, refused to acknowledge Him, and stood upright. Then the Holy Child pronounced a curse against her, as He in after life cursed the barren Fig-tree; and at the sound of His words the Aspen began to tremble through all her leaves, and has not ceased to tremble to this day. Mr. Henderson, in his ‘Folk-lore of the Northern Counties,’ states that this tradition has been embodied in a little poem, which may be thus translated:—

“Once as our Saviour walked with men below,
His path of mercy through a forest lay;
And mark how all the drooping branches show,
What homage best a silent tree may pay!
“Only the Aspen stands erect and free,
Scorning to join the voiceless worship pure;
But see! He casts one look upon the tree,
Struck to the heart she trembles evermore!”

The Kirghises, who have become almost Mussulmans, have nevertheless preserved a profound veneration for the sacred Aspen.——Astrologers hold that the Aspen is a lunar tree.

ASPHODEL.—The Asphodel is the flower which flourished in the Elysian Fields. Orpheus, in Pope’s ‘Ode on St. Cecilia’s Day,’ conjures the infernal deities—

“By the streams that ever flow;
By the fragrant winds that blow
O’er the Elysian flowers;
By those happy souls who dwell
In yellow meads of Asphodel,
Or Amaranthine bowers.”

Homer tells us that, having crossed the Styx, the shades passed over a long prairie of Asphodel; and Lucian makes old Charon say:—“I know why Mercury keeps us waiting so long. Down here with us there is nothing to be had but Asphodel, and libations and oblations, and that in the midst of mist and darkness: but up in heaven it is all bright and clear, and plenty of ambrosia there, and nectar without stint.” The fine flowers of this plant of the infernal regions produced grains which were believed by the ancients to afford nourishment to the dead. Accordingly we find that the Greeks planted Asphodel and Mallows round graves. The edible roots of the Asphodel were also wont to be laid as offerings in the tombs of the departed, and, according to Hesiod, they served as food for the poor. The Asphodel was held sacred to Bacchus, probably because he visited the infernal regions, and rescued his mother Semele from the kingdom of the departed. Wreaths of the Asphodel were worn by Bacchus, Proserpine, Diana, and Semele. Asphodels were among the flowers forming the couch of Jupiter and Juno, and Milton has named them as put to the same use by Adam and Eve.

“Flowers were the couch,
Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel,
And Hyacinth, earth’s freshest, softest lap.”

Dr. Prior says that the Asphodel root was, under the name of cibo regio (food for a king), highly esteemed in the middle ages, but, however improved by cultivation, it is likely to have been troublesome by its diuretic qualities, and has probably on that account gone out of fashion. Rapin, in his poem, refers to the Asphodel as forming an article of food—

“And rising Asphodel forsakes her bed,
On whose sweet root our rustic fathers fed.”

ASTER.—The old English name of the Aster is Star-wort. Rapin says of this flower—

“The Attic star, so named in Grecian use,
But called Amellus by the Mantuan Muse
In meadows reigns near some cool streamlet’s side,
Or marshy vales where winding currents glide.
Wreaths of this gilded flower the shepherds twine,
When grapes now ripe in clusters load the vine.”

The Aster is thus identified with the Amellus, of the Greek and Latin poets, and, according to Virgil, the altars of the gods were often adorned with wreaths of these flowers. In his Fourth Georgic the poet prescribes the root of the Italian Star-wort (Aster Amellus) for sickly bees. (See Amellus). The leaves of the Attic Star-wort (when burnt) had the reputation of driving away serpents. In Germany, the Star-wort is used by lovers as an oracle, to decide whether their love is returned or not. The person consulting it repeats the words—

“Er liebt mich von Herzen
Mit Schmerzen,
Ja—oder Nein.”

At the recurrence of the words ja and nein a leaf is pulled out, and the answer depends on which of these words is pronounced as the last of the leaves is plucked. Göthe introduces this rustic superstition in his tragedy of ‘Faust,’ where the luckless heroine consults the floral oracle as to the affection entertained for her by Faust. The French call the Italian Star-wort, or Amellus, l’Œil de Christ, and the China Aster la Reine Marguerite——The Aster is considered to be a herb of Venus.

ASH.—This tree (Fraxinus excelsior), called, on account of its elegance, the Venus of the forest, and from its utility, the husbandman’s tree, was regarded by the ancient Greeks, Romans, and Scandinavians as a sacred tree, and as one of good omen. In the Teutonic mythology, the Ash is the most venerated of trees, and the Scandinavian Edda, the sacred book of the Northmen, furnishes a detailed account of the mystic Ash Yggdrasill, or mundane tree, beneath whose shade was the chief or holiest seat of the gods, where they assembled every day in council. (See Yggdrasill.) According to the old Norse tradition, it was out of the wood of the Ash that man was first formed; and the Greeks entertained a similar belief, for we find Hesiod deriving his brazen race of men from it. The goddess Nemesis was sometimes represented with an Ashen wand. Cupid, before he learnt to use the more potent Cypress, employed Ash for the wood of his arrows. At the Nuptials of Peleus and Thetis, Chiron appeared with a branch of Ash, from which was made the lance of Peleus, which afterwards became the spear of Achilles. Rapin writes of this tree—

“But on fair levels and a gentle soil
The noble Ash rewards the planter’s toil.
Noble e’er since Achilles from her side
Took the dire spear by which brave Hector died;
Whose word resembling much the hero’s mind,
Will sooner break than bend—a stubborn kind.”

There exists an old superstition, that a serpent will rather creep into the fire than over a twig of the Ash-tree, founded upon the statements of Pliny with respect to the magical powers of the Ash against serpents. It was said that serpents always avoided the shade of the Ash; so that if a fire and a serpent were placed within a circle of Ash-leaves, the serpent, to avoid the Ash, would even run into the midst of the fire. Cowley, enumerating various prodigies, says:—

“On the wild Ash’s tops, the bats and owls,
With, all night, ominous and baleful fowls,
Sate brooding, while the screeches of these droves
Profaned and violated all the groves.
* * * * * * * *
But that which gave more wonder than the rest,
Within an Ash a serpent built her nest,
And laid her eggs; when once to come beneath
The very shadow of an Ash was death.”

There exists a popular belief in Cornwall, that no kind of snake is ever found near the “Ashen-tree,” and that a branch of the Ash will prevent a snake from coming near a person. There is a legend that a child, who was in the habit of receiving its portion of bread and milk at the cottage door, was found to be in the habit of sharing its food with one of the poisonous adders. The reptile came regularly every morning, and the child, pleased with the beauty of his companion, encouraged the visits. So the babe and the adder thus became close friends. Eventually this became known to the mother (who, being a labourer in the fields, was compelled to leave her child all day), and she found it to be a matter of great difficulty to keep the snake from the child whenever it was left alone. She therefore adopted the precaution of binding an Ashen-twig about its body. The adder no longer came near the child; but, from that day forward, the poor little one pined away, and eventually died, as all around said, through grief at having lost the companion by whom it had been fascinated.

On the subject of the serpent’s antipathy to the Ash, we find Gerarde writing as follows:—“The leaves of this tree are of so great vertue against serpents, that they dare not so much as touch the morning and evening shadowes of the tree, but shun them afar off, as Pliny reports (lib. 16, c. 13). He also affirmeth that the serpent being penned in with boughes laid round about, will sooner run into the fire, if any be there, than come neare the boughes of the Ash; and that the Ash floureth before the serpents appeare, and doth not cast its leaves before they be gon againe. We write (saith he) upon experience, that if the serpent be set within a circle of fire and the branches, the serpent will sooner run into the fire than into the boughes. It is a wonderfull courtesie in nature, that the Ash should floure before the serpents appeare, and not cast his leaves before they be gon againe.” Other old writers affirm that the leaves, either taken inwardly, or applied outwardly, are singularly good against the biting of snakes or venomous beasts; and that the water distilled from them, and taken every morning fasting, is thought to abate corpulence. The ashes of the Ash and Juniper are stated to cure leprosy.

The pendent winged seeds, called spinners or keys, were believed to have the same effect as the leaves: in country places there is to this day an opinion current, that when these keys are abundant, a severe Winter will follow. A bunch of Ash-keys is still thought efficacious as a protection against witchcraft.

In marshy situations, the roots of the Ash will run a long way at a considerable depth, thus acting as sub-drains: hence the proverb, in some parts of the country, “May your foot-fall be by the root of the Ash.” In the Spring, when the Ash and Oak are coming into leaf, Kentish folk exclaim:—“Oak, smoke; Ash, squash.” If the Oak comes out first, they believe the Summer will prove hot; if the Ash, it will be wet.

“If the Oak’s before the Ash,
You will only get a splash;
If the Ash precedes the Oak,
You will surely have a soak.”

Gilbert White tells us of a superstitious custom, still extant, which he thinks was derived from the Saxons, who practised it before their conversion to Christianity. Ash-trees, when young and flexible, were severed, and held open by wedges, while ruptured children, stripped naked, were pushed through the apertures, under a persuasion that they would be cured of their infirmity. The operation over, the tree was plastered up with loam, and carefully swathed. If the severed parts coalesced in due course, the babe was sure to be cured; but if not, the operation would probably be ineffectual. The same writer relates another extraordinary custom among rustics: they bore a deep hole in an Ash-tree, and imprison a live shrew mouse therein: the tree then becomes a Shrew-Ash, whose twigs or branches, gently applied to the limbs of cattle, will immediately relieve the cramp, lameness, and pain supposed to attack the animal wherever a shrew mouse has crept over it.

Lightfoot says that, in the Highlands, at the birth of an infant, the nurse takes a green Ash stick, one end of which she puts into the fire; and, while it is burning, receives in a spoon the sap that oozes from the other, which she administers to the child as its first food: this custom is thought to be derived from the old Aryan practice of feeding young children with the honey-like juice of the Fraxinus Ornus. The sap of the Ash, tapped on certain days, is drunk in Germany as a remedy for the bites of serpents.

In Northumberland, there is a belief that if the first parings of an infant’s nails are buried under an Ash, the child will turn out a “top singer.” In Staffordshire, the common people believe that it is very dangerous to break a bough from the Ash. In Leicestershire, the Ash is employed as a charm for warts. In the month of April or May, the sufferer is taken to an Ash-tree: the operator (who is provided with a paper of new pins) takes a pin, and having first struck it through the bark, presses it through the wart until it produces pain; the pin is then taken out and stuck into the tree, where it is left. Each wart is similarly treated, a separate pin being used for each. The warts will disappear in a few weeks. It is a wide-spread custom to stroke with a twig from an Ash-tree, under the roots of which a horse-shoe has been buried, any animal which is supposed to have been bewitched.

An Ashen herding stick is preferred by Scotch boys to any other, because in throwing it at their cattle it is sure not to strike in a vital part, and so kill or injure the animal, a contingency which may occur, it seems, with other sticks. It is worthy of note that the lituus of the Roman Augur—a staff with a crook at one end—was formed of an Ash-tree bough, the crook being sometimes produced naturally, but more often by artificial means.

In many parts of England, the finding of an even Ash-leaf is considered to be an augury of good luck; hence the old saying, so dear to tender maids—

“If you find an even Ash or a four-leaved Clover,
Rest assured you’ll see your true-love ere the day is over.”

In Cornwall, this charm is frequently made use of for invoking good luck:—

“Even Ash I thee do pluck,
Hoping thus to meet good luck.
If no good luck I get from thee,
I shall wish thee on the tree.”

In Henderson’s ‘Northern Folk-lore,’ occur the following lines regarding the virtues of even Ash-leaves:—

“The even Ash-leaf in my left hand,
The first man I meet shall be my husband.
The even Ash-leaf in my glove,
The first I meet shall be my love.
The even Ash-leaf for my breast,
The first man I meet’s whom I love best.
The even Ash-leaf in my hand,
The first I meet shall be my man.”
“Even Ash, even Ash, I pluck thee,
This night my true love for to see;
Neither in his rick nor in his rear,
But in the clothes he does every day wear.”

It is a tradition among the gipsies that the cross our Saviour was crucified upon was made of Ash.

In Devonshire, it is customary to burn an Ashen faggot at Christmastide, in commemoration of the fact that the Divine Infant at Bethlehem was first washed and dressed by a fire of Ash-wood.

The Yule-clog or -log which ancient custom prescribes to be burnt on Christmas Eve, used to be of Ash: thus we read in an old poem:—

“Thy welcome Eve, loved Christmas, now arrived,
The parish bells their tuneful peals resound,
And mirth and gladness every breast pervade.
The ponderous Ashen-faggot, from the yard,
The jolly farmer to his crowded hall
Conveys with speed; where, on the rising flames
(Already fed with store of massy brands),
It blazes soon; nine bandages it bears,
And, as they each disjoin (so custom wills),
A mighty jug of sparkling cider’s brought
With brandy mixt, to elevate the guests.”

Spenser speaks of the Ash as being “for nothing ill,” but the tree has always been regarded as a special attractor of lightning, and there is a very old couplet, which says:—

“Avoid an Ash,
It courts the flash.”

Its character as an embodiment of fire is manifested in a remarkable Swedish legend given in Grimm’s ‘German Mythology.’ Some seafaring people, it is said, received an Ash-tree from a giant, with directions to set it upon the altar of a church he wished to destroy. Instead, however, of carrying out his instructions, they placed the Ash on the mound over a grave, which to their astonishment instantly burst into flames.

There is an old belief that to prevent pearls from being discoloured, it is sufficient to keep them shut up with a piece of Ash-root.

Astrologers appear to be divided in their opinions as to whether the Ash is under the dominion of the Sun or of Jupiter.

ASVATTHA.—The Indian Veda prescribes that for the purpose of kindling the sacred fire, the wood of an Asvattha (Ficus religiosa), growing upon a Sami (Mimosa Suma), should be employed. The idea of a marriage suggested by such a union of the two trees is also developed in the Vedas with much minuteness of detail. The process by which, in the Hindu temples, fire is obtained from wood resembles churning. It consists in drilling one piece of wood (the Asvattha, symbolising the male element) into another (the Sami, representing the female element). This is effected by pulling a string tied to it, with a jerk, with one hand, while the other is slackened, and so alternately until the wood takes fire. The fire is received on cotton or flax held in the hand of an assistant Brahman. This Indian fire-generator is known as the “chark.” (See also Sami and Peepul).

AURICULA.—The old Latin name of this plant was Auricula ursi, from the shape of the leaves resembling a bear’s ear. It is thought to be the Alisma of Dioscorides. Matthiolus and Pena call it Sanicula Alpina, from its potency in healing wounds. Old herbalists have also named it Paralytica on account of its being esteemed a remedy for the palsy. Gerarde calls it Bear’s-ear, or Mountain Cowslip, and tells us that the root was in great request among Alpine hunters, for the effect it produced in strengthening the head and preventing giddiness and swimming of the brain overtaking them on high elevations. The plant is reputed to be somewhat carnivorous, and cultivators place juicy pieces of meat about the roots, so that they may absorb the blood.——In Germany, the Auricula is considered emblematical of love of home.

AVAKA.—The Avaka or Sîpâla is an India aquatic plant, which plays an important part in their funeral ceremonies. It is placed in a cavity made, according to their custom, to the north-east of the sacred fire Ahavanîya, and it is believed that the soul of the deceased person passes into this cavity, and thence ascends with the smoke to heaven. The Avaka or Sîpâla forms the food of the Gandharvas, who preside over the India waters.

Avens.—See Herb Bennett.

AZALEA.—This handsome shrub is narcotic and poisonous in all its parts. Xenophon, in his narrative of the ‘Retreat of the Ten Thousand,’ in Asia, after the death of Cyrus, tells how his soldiers became temporarily stupefied and delirious, as if intoxicated, after partaking of the honey of Trebizond on the Black Sea. The baneful properties of this honey arose from the poisonous nature of the blossoms of the Azalea Pontica, from which the bees had collected it.

BACCHARIS.—This plant is the Inula Conyza, and was called Baccharis after the god Bacchus, to whom it was dedicated. Virgil speaks of Baccharis as being used for making garlands, and recommends it as a plant which is efficacious as a charm for repelling calumny—

“Bacchari frontem
Cingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua futuro.”

Its English name is the Ploughman’s Spikenard; and it was highly esteemed by the old herbalists on account of the sweet and aromatic qualities of its root, from which the ancients compounded an ointment which was also known as Baccharis.

Bachelor’s Buttons.—See Ranunculus.

BALBAGA.—The Indian Grass, Eleusine Indica, had, according to De Gubernatis, the Vedic name of Balbaja: and, as a sacred herb, was employed in Indian religious festivals for litter, in ceremonials connected with the worship of the sacred Cow.

BALDMONEY.—According to Gerarde, the Gentian was formerly called Baldmoyne and Baldmoney; but Dr. Prior considers that the name appertains to Meum athamanticum, and that it is a corruption of the Latin valde bona, very good. The Grete Herball, speaking of Sistra, he says, gives the following explanation:—“Sistra is Dyll, some call it Mew; but that is not so. Howbeit they be very like in properties and vertue, and be put eche for other; but Sistra is of more vertue then Mew, and the leaves be lyke an herbe called Valde Bona, and beareth smaller sprigges as Spiknarde. It groweth on hye hylles” (See Feldwode).

BALIS.—This herb was believed by the ancients to possess the property of restoring the dead to life. By its means Æsculapius himself was said to have been once resuscitated; and Pliny reports that, according to the Greek historian Xanthus, a little dog, killed by a serpent, was brought back to life by this wonderful herb Balis.

BALSAM.—The seed vessel of this plant contains five cells. When maturity approaches, each of these divisions curls up at the slightest touch, and darts out its seeds by a spontaneous movement: hence its generic name Impatiens, and its English appellation Noli me tangere—Touch me not. Gerarde calls it the Balsam Apple, or Apple of Jerusalem, and tells us that its old Latin name was Pomum Mirabile, or Marvellous Apple. He also states that the plant was highly esteemed for its property of alleviating the pains of maternity, and that it was considered a valuable agent to remove sterility—the patient first bathing and then anointing herself with an oil compounded with the fruit.——The Turks represent ardent love by this flower.——Balsam is under the planetary influence of Jupiter.

BALM.—The Melissa, or Garden Balm, was renowned among the Arabian physicians, by whom it was recommended for hypochondria and affections of the heart, and according to Paracelsus the primum ens Melissa promised a complete renovation of man. Drunk in wine, it was believed to be efficacious against the bitings of venomous beasts and mad dogs. A variety called Smith’s or Carpenter’s Balm, or Bawm, was noted as a vulnerary, and Pliny describes it of such magical virtue, that Gerarde remarks, “though it be but tied to his sword that hath given the wound, it stancheth the blood.” On account of its being a favourite plant of the bees, it was one of the herbs directed by the ancients to be placed in the hive, to render it agreeable to the swarm: hence it was called Apiastrum.——The astrologers claimed the herb both for Jupiter and the Sun.——In connection with the Garden Balm, Aubrey relates a legend of the Wandering Jew, the scene of which he places in the Staffordshire moors. When on the weary way to Golgotha, Jesus Christ, fainting and sinking beneath the burden of the cross, asked the Jew Ahasuerus for a cup of water to cool his parched throat, he spurned the supplication, and bade him speed on faster. “I go,” said the Saviour, “but thou shalt thirst and tarry till I come.” And ever since that hour, by day and night, through the long centuries, he has been doomed to wander about the earth, ever craving for water, and ever expecting the Day of Judgment, which alone shall end his frightful pilgrimage. One Whitsun evening, overcome with thirst, he knocked at the door of a Staffordshire cottager, and craved of him a cup of small beer. The cottager, who was wasted with a lingering consumption, asked him in and gave him the desired refreshment. After finishing the beer, Ahasuerus asked his host the nature of the disease he was suffering from, and being told that the doctors had given him up, said, “Friend, I will tell thee what thou shalt do; and by the help and power of Almighty God above, thou shalt be well. To-morrow, when thou risest up, go into thy garden, and gather there three Balm-leaves, and put them into a cup of thy small beer. Drink as often as you need, and when the cup is empty, fill it again, and put in fresh Balm-leaves every fourth day, and thou shalt see, through our Lord’s great goodness and mercy, that before twelve days shall be past, thy disease shall be cured and thy body altered.” So saying, and declining to eat, he departed and was never seen again. But the cottager gathered his Balm-leaves, followed the prescription of the Wandering Jew, and before twelve days were passed was a new man.

BALM OF GILEAD.—The mountains of Gilead, in the east of the Holy Land, were covered with fragrant shrubs, the most plentiful being the Amyris, which yielded the celebrated Balm of Gilead, a precious gum which, at a very early period, the Ishmaelites or Arabian carriers trafficked in. It was to a party of these merchants that Joseph was sold by his brethren as they came from Gilead, with their camels, bearing spicery, and Balm, and Myrrh, going to carry it down to Egypt (Gen. xxxvii., 25). There were three productions from this tree, all highly esteemed by the ancients, viz.: Xylobalsamum, a decoction of the new twigs; the Carpobalsamum, an expression of the native fruit; and the Opobalsum, or juice, the finest kind, composed of the greenish liquor found in the kernel of the fruit. The principal quantity of Balm has, however, always been produced by excision. The juice is received in a small earthen bottle, and every day’s produce is poured into a larger, which is kept closely corked. So marvellous were the properties of this Balm considered, that in order to test its quality, the operator dipped his finger in the juice, and then set fire to it, expecting fully to remain scathless if the Balm was of average strength. The Balm of Gilead has always had a wonderful reputation as a cosmetic among ladies. The manner of applying it in the East is thus given by a traveller in Abyssinia:—“You first go into the tepid bath, till the pores are sufficiently opened; you then anoint yourself with a small quantity, and as much as the vessels will absorb: never-fading youth and beauty are said to be the consequences.” By the Arabs, it is employed as a stomachic and antiseptic, and is believed by them to prevent any infection of the plague.——Tradition relates that there is an aspic that guards the Balm-tree, and will allow no one to approach. Fortunately, however, it has a weakness—it cannot endure the sound of a musical instrument. As soon as it hears the approaching torment, it thrusts its tail into one of its ears, and rubs the other against the ground, till it is filled with mud. While it is lying in this helpless condition, the Balm-gatherers go round to the other side of the tree, and hurry away with their spoil.——Maundevile says that the true Balm-trees only grew in Egypt (near Cairo), and in India. The Egyptian trees were tended solely by Christians, as they refused to bear if the husbandmen were Saracens. It was necessary, also, to cut the branches with a sharp flint-stone or bone, for if touched with iron, the Balm lost its incomparable virtue. The Indian Balm-trees grew “in that desert where the trees of the Sun and of the Moon spake to King Alexander,” and warned him of his death. The fruit of these Balm-trees possessed such marvellous properties, that the people of the country, who were in the habit of partaking of it, lived four or five hundred years in consequence.

BAMBOO.—The Bambusa Arundinaceæ is one of the sacred plants of India: it is the tree of shelter, audience, and friendship. As jungle fires were thought to be caused by the stems of Bamboos rubbing together, the tree derived from that fact a mystic and holy character, as an emblem of the sacred fire.——Indian anchorites carry a long Bamboo staff with seven nodes, as a mark of their calling. At Indian weddings, the bride and bridegroom, as part of the nuptial ceremony, get into two Bamboo baskets, placed side by side, and remain standing therein for some specified time. The savage Indian tribe called Garrows possess neither temples nor altars, but they set up a pillar of Bamboo before their huts, and decorate it with flowers and tufts of cotton, and sacrifice before it to their deity. In various parts of India there is a superstitious belief that the flowering and seeding of various species of Bamboo is a sure prognostication of an approaching famine.——Europeans have noticed, as an invariable rule, in Canara, that when the Bamboos flower and seed, fever prevails. At the foot of the Ghauts, and round Yellapûr, it has been observed that when the Bamboos flowered and seeded, fever made its appearance, few persons escaping it. During blossom, the fever closely resembles hay fever at home, but the type becomes more severe as the seeds fall.——The poor, homeless fishermen of China, to supply themselves with vegetables, have invented a system of culture which may move with them, and they thus transport their gardens wherever they may go. This they do by constructing rafts of Bamboo, which are well woven with weeds and strong grass, and then launched on the water and covered with earth. These floating gardens are made fast to the stern of their junks and boats, and towed after them.

BANANA.—The Banana (Musa sapientum) and the Plantain (M. paradisiaca) are so closely related, as to be generally spoken of together. The Banana has been well designated the king of all fruit, and the greatest boon bestowed by Providence on the inhabitants of hot countries. According to Gerarde, who calls it in his Herbal, Adam’s Apple Tree, it was supposed in his time by the Grecians and Christians inhabiting Syria, as well as by the Jews, to be that tree of whose fruit Adam partook at Eve’s solicitation—the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, planted by the Lord Himself in the midst of the Garden of Eden. It has also been supposed that the Grapes brought by the Israelites’ spies to Moses out of the Holy Land, were in reality the fruit of the Banana-tree.——In the Canary Islands, the Banana is never cut across with a knife because it then exhibits a representation of the Crucifixion. Gerarde refers to this mark, remarking that the fruit “pleaseth and entiseth a man to eate liberally thereof, by a certaine entising sweetnesse it yields; in which fruit, if it be cut according to the length, oblique, transverse, or any other way, whatsoever, may be seene the shape and forme of a crosse, with a man fastened thereto. My selfe have seene the fruit, and cut it in pieces, which was brought me from Aleppo, in pickle: the crosse, I might perceive, as the form of a spred-Egle in the root of Ferne; but the man I leave to be sought for by those which have better eies and judgement than my selfe.”——A certain sect of Brahmans, called Yogis, place all their food in the leaves of the Plantain, or Apple of Paradise, and other large leaves; these they use dry, never green, for they say that the green leaves have a soul in them; and so it would be sinful.

BANYAN TREE.—The Indian Fig-tree (Ficus Indica), of which one of the Sanscrit names is Bahupâda, or the Tree of Many Feet, is one of the sacred trees of India, and is remarkable for its vast size and the singularity of its growth: it throws out from its lateral branches shoots which, as soon as they reach the earth, take root, till, in course of time, a single tree extends itself to a considerable grove. Pliny described the Banyan with great accuracy, and Milton has rendered his description almost literally:

“Branching so broad along, that in the ground
The bending twigs take root, and daughters grow
About the mother tree; a pillared shade,
High over-arched, with echoing walks between.
There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat,
Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds
At loop-holes cut through thickest shade.”

The Banyan rarely vegetates on the ground, but usually in the crown of Palms, where the seed has been deposited by birds. Roots are sent down to the ground, which embrace, and eventually kill, the Nurse-Palm. Hence, the Hindus have given the Banyan the name of Vaibâdha (the breaker), and invoke it in order that it may at the same time break the heads of enemies.——In the Indian mythology, the Banyan is often confounded with the Bo-tree, and hence it is given a place in heaven, where an enormous tree is said to grow on the summit of the mountain Supârsva, to the south of the celestial mountain Meru, where it occupies a vast space. Beneath the pillared shade of the Banyan, the god Vishnu was born. His mother had sought its shelter, but she was sad and fearful lest the terrible Kansa should put to death her seventh babe, Vishnu, as he had already done her first six. Yasodâ, to console the weeping mother, gave up her own infant daughter, who was at once killed by Kansa’s servants; but Vishnu was saved. It is, says De Gubernatis, at the foot of a gigantic Banyan, a Bhândîra, near Mount Govardhana, that the Buddhist Vishnu plays with his companions, and, by his presence, illuminates everything around him. The Banyan of the Vedas is represented as being peopled with Indian parroquets, who eat its fruit, which, however, does not exceed a Hazel-nut in size. The Chinese Buddhists represent that Buddha sits under a Banyan-tree, turned towards the East, to receive the homage of the god Brahma. Like the sacred Bo-tree, the Banyan is regarded not only as the Tree of Knowledge, but also as the tree of Indian seers and ascetic devotees. Wherever a Bo-tree or a Banyan has stood, the place where it formerly flourished is always held sacred.——There is in India a Banyan-tree that is the object of particular veneration. It grows on the banks of the Nerbudda, not far from Surat, and is the largest and oldest Banyan in the country. According to tradition, it was planted by the Seer Kabira, and is supposed to be three thousand years old. It is said to be the identical tree visited by Nearchus, one of the officers of Alexander the Great. The Hindus never cut it or touch it with steel, for fear of offending the god concealed in its sacred foliage. De Gubernatis quotes the following description of this sacred tree given by Pietro Della Valle at the commencement of the seventeenth century:—“On one side of the town, on a large open space, one sees towering a magnificent tree, similar to those which I had noticed near Hormuz, and which were called Lul, but here were known as Ber. The peasants of this country have a profound veneration for this tree, both on account of its grandeur and its antiquity: they make pilgrimages to it, and honour it with their superstitious ceremonies, believing that the goddess Pârvatî, the wife of Mahâdeva, to whom it is dedicated, has it under her protection. In the trunk of this tree, at a little distance from the ground, they have roughly carved what is supposed to be the head of an idol, but which no one can recognise as bearing any semblance to a human being; however, like the Romans, they paint the face of the idol red, and adorn it with flowers, and with leaves of a tree which they call here Pan, but in other parts of India Betel. These flowers and leaves ought to be always fresh, and so they are often changed. The pilgrims who come to visit the tree receive as a pious souvenir the dried leaves which have been replaced by fresh ones. The idol has eyes of gold and silver, and is decorated with jewellery offered by pious persons who have attributed to it the miraculous cure of ophthalmic complaints they have suffered from.... They take the greatest care of the tree, of every branch, nay, of every leaf, and will not permit either man or beast to damage or profane it. Other Banyan or Pagod trees have obtained great eminence. One near Mangee, near Patna, spread over a diameter of three hundred and seventy feet, and it required nine hundred and twenty feet to surround the fifty or sixty stems by which the tree was supported. Another covered an area of one thousand seven hundred square yards; and many of almost equal dimensions are found in different parts of India and Cochin-China.”——In the Atharvaveda mention is made of an all-powerful amulet, which is a reduction, on a small scale, of a Banyan-tree, possessing a thousand stems, to each of which is attributed a special magical property.

BAOBAB.—The leviathan Baobab (Adansonia) is an object of reverential worship to the negroes of Senegal, where it is asserted that some of these trees exist which are five thousand years old. It is reputed to be the largest tree in the world, and may readily be taken at a distance for a grove: its trunk is often one hundred feet in circumference; but its height is not so wonderful as its enormous lateral bulk. The central branch rises perpendicularly, the others spread out in all directions, and attain a length of sixty feet, touching the ground at their extremities, and equalling in bulk the noblest trees. The wood is spongy and soon decays, leaving the trunks hollow. In these hollow trunks the negroes suspend the dead bodies of those who are refused the honour of burial; and in this position the bodies are preserved without any process of embalming. The magnificent snowy blossoms are regarded with peculiar reverence at the instant they open into bloom. The leaves are used medicinally, and as a condiment; dried and powdered, they constitute Lalo, a favourite article with the Africans, who mix it daily with their food, to prevent undue perspiration; a fibre is obtained from the bark that is so strong as to have given rise in Bengal to the saying, “As secure as an elephant bound with a Baobab rope.” The gourd-like fruit, called Monkey-bread and Ethiopian Sour Gourd, is also eaten, and is prized for its febrifugal qualities.

BARBERRY.—The Barberry (Berberis vulgaris) was formerly called the Pipperidge-bush, and was regarded with superstitious dislike by farmers, who believed that it injured Wheat crops, even if growing a hundred yards off, by imparting to the Corn the fungus which causes rust.——In Italy, the Barberry is looked upon as the Holy Thorn, or the plant which furnished the crown of Thorns used at our Lord’s crucifixion: it seems to be so regarded because its Thorns grow together in sets of three at each joint of the branch.——The Barberry is under the dominion of Venus.

BARLEY.—Barley is a symbol of riches and abundance. The God Indra is called “He who ripens Barley,” and in many of their religious ceremonies the Indians introduce this cereal, viz., at the birth of an infant, at weddings, at funerals, and at certain of their sacrificial rites.——Barley is claimed by astrologers as a notable plant of Saturn.

BAROMETZ.—The Barometz, or Scythian Lamb (Polypodium Barometz), is a name given to a Fern growing in Tartary, the root of which, says Prof. Martyn, from the variety of its form, is easily made by art to take the form of a lamb (called by the Tartars Borametz), “or rather that of a rufous dog, which the common names in China and Cochin-China imply, namely, Cau-tich and Kew-tsie.” The description given of this strange Fern represents the root as rising above the ground in an oblong form, covered all over with hairs: towards one end it frequently becomes narrower and then thicker, so as to give somewhat of the shape of a head and neck, and it has sometimes two pendulous hairy excrescences resembling ears; at the other end a short shoot extends out into a tail. Four fronds are chosen in a suitable position, and are cut off to a proper length, to represent the legs: and thus a vegetable lamb is produced. Loureiro affirms that the root, when fresh cut, yields a juice closely resembling the blood of animals.——Kircher has given a figure of the Tartarian Lamb, in which the lamb is represented as the fruit of some plant on the top of a stalk.——Parkinson, in the frontispiece to his Paradisus Terrestris, has depicted this Lamb-plant as growing in the Garden of Eden, where it appears to be browsing on the surrounding herbage.——Scaliger has given a detailed account of the Barometz, which he calls “a wondrous plant indeed among the Tartars.” After remarking that Zavolha is the most considerable of the Tartar hordes, he proceeds:—“In that province they sow a seed not unlike the seed of a Melon, except that it is not so long. There comes from it a plant which they call Borametz, that is to say, a lamb; and, indeed, the fruit of that plant has exactly the shape of a lamb. We see distinctly all the exterior parts—the body, the feet, the hoofs, the head, and the ears; there wants, indeed, nothing but the horns, instead of which it has a sort of wool that imitates them not amiss. The Tartars fleece it, and make themselves caps of the skin. The pulp that is within the fruit is very much like the flesh of crabs. Cut it, and the blood gushes out, as from a wounded animal. This lamb feeds itself upon all the grass that grows around it, and when it has eaten it all up, it dries and dies away. But what perfects the similitude between the Borametz and a lamb is that the wolves are very greedy of this fruit, which no other animals ever care for.”——The elder Darwin, in his poem on ‘The Loves of the Plants,’ makes the following allusion to the Barometz:—

“Cradled in snow and fanned by Arctic air,
Shines, gentle Barometz! thy golden hair;
Rooted in earth, each cloven hoof descends,
And round and round her flexile neck she bends;
Crops the gray coral Moss and hoary Thyme,
Or laps with rosy tongue the melting rime,
Eyes with mute tenderness her distant dam,
Or seems to bleat, a vegetable Lamb.”

BASIL.—The English name of the Ocymum basilicum is derived from the Greek basilikon, royal, probably from its having been used in some royal unguent, bath, or medicine.——Holy Basil, or Tulasî (Ocymum sanctum), is by the Hindus regarded as a most sacred herb, and they have given one of its names to a sacred grove of their Parnassus, on the banks of the Yamuna. This holy herb is grown in pots near every temple and dwelling of devout Hindus. It is sacred to Vishnu, Kushna, and Lakshmi, but all the gods are interested in it. Narada, the celestial sage, has sung the praises of the immortal plant, which is perfection itself, and which, whilst protecting from every misfortune those who cultivate it, sanctifies and guides them to heaven. For this double sanctity it is reared in every Hindu house, where it is daily watered and worshipped by all the members of the household. Perhaps, also, it was on account of its virtues in disinfecting and vivifying malarious air that it first became inseparable from Hindu houses in India as the protecting spirit or Lar of the family. The pious Hindus invoke the divine herb for the protection of every part of the body, for life and for death, and in every action of life; but above all in its capacity of ensuring children to those who desire to have them. Among the appellations given to the Tulasî are—“propitious,” “perfumed,” “multi-leaved,” “devil-destroying,” &c. The root is made into beads, which are worn round the neck and arms of the votaries of Vishnu, who carry also a rosary made of the seeds of the Holy Basil or the Sacred Lotus. De Gubernatis has given some interesting details of the Tulasî cultus:—“Under the mystery of this herb,” he says, “created with ambrosia, is shrouded without doubt the god-creator himself. The worship of the herb Tulasî is strongly recommended in the last part of the Padmapurâna, consecrated to Vishnu; but it is, perhaps, no less adored by the votaries of Siva; Krishna, the popular incarnation of the god Vishnu, has also adopted this herb for his worship; from thence its names of Krishna and Krishnatulasî. Sîtâ, the epic personification of the goddess Lakshmî, was transformed, according to the Râmâyana, into the Tulasî, from whence the name of Sitâhvayâ given to the herb.” Because of the belief that the Tulasî opens the gates of heaven to the pious worshipper, Prof. De Gubernatis tells us that “when an Indian dies, they place on his breast a leaf of Tulasî; when he is dead, they wash the head of the corpse with water, in which have been dropped, during the prayer of the priest, some Flax seeds and Tulasî leaves. According to the Kriyâyogasâras (xxiii.), in religiously planting and cultivating the Tulasî, the Hindu obtains the privilege of ascending to the Palace of Vishnu, surrounded by ten millions of parents. It is a good omen for a house if it has been built on a spot where the Tulasî grows well. Vishnu renders unhappy for life and for eternity infidels who wilfully, or the imprudent who inadvertently, uproot the herb Tulasî: no happiness, no health, no children for such! This sacred plant cannot be gathered excepting with a good and pious intention, and above all, for the worship of Vishnu or of Krishna, at the same time offering up this prayer:—‘Mother Tulasî, be thou propitious. If I gather you with care, be merciful unto me, O Tulasî, mother of the world, I beseech you.’”——Like the Lotus, the Basil is not only venerated as a plant sacred to the gods, but it is also worshipped as a deity itself. Hence we find the herb specially invoked, as the goddess Tulasî, for the protection of every part of the human frame, from the head to the feet. It is also supposed that the heart of Vishnu, the husband of the Tulasî, is profoundly agitated and tormented whenever the least sprig is broken of a plant of Tulasî, his wife.——In Malabar, sweet Basil is cultivated as a sacred plant, under the name of Collo, and kept in a little shrine placed before the house.——In the Deccan villages, the fair Brahminee mother may be seen early every morning, after having first ground the corn for the day’s bread and performed her simple toilet, walking with glad steps and waving hands round and round the pot of Holy Basil, planted on the four-horned altar built up before each house, invoking the blessings of heaven on her husband and his children. The herb is planted largely on the river banks, where the natives bathe, as well as at the entrance to their temples. They believe that the deities love this herb, and that the god Ganavedi abides in it continually. When travelling, if they cannot obtain the herb, they draw the form of the plant on the ground with its root.——It is difficult to understand why so sacred and so fragrant a herb as Sweet Basil should have become the symbol of Hatred, unless it be because the ancients sometimes represented Poverty by the figure of a female clothed in rags, and seated by a plant of Basil. The ancient Greeks thought that when Basil was sown, the act should be accompanied by abuse, without which it would not flourish. Pliny also records that it throve best when sown with cursing and railing. This explains the French saying, “Semer le Basilic,” equivalent to slandering.——The plant has a decided funereal symbolism. In Persia, where it is called Rayhan,

“the Basil-tuft, that waves
Its fragrant blossom over graves,”

is usually found in cemeteries. In Egypt, the same plant is scattered over the tombs by the women who go twice or oftener a week to pray and weep at the sepulchres of the dead. In Crete, the Basil is considered a symbol of the Evil One, although it is to be found on every window-ledge. It is unfortunate to dream of Basil, for it is supposed to betoken grief and misfortune. It was probably these sinister and funereal associations of the plant that induced Boccaccio to make the unhappy Isabella conceal her murdered lover’s head by planting Basil in the pot that contained it; although it is surmised that the author of the ‘Decameron’ obtained the idea from Grecian sources.——It is, however, satisfactory to find that in Italy the Basil is utilised for other than funereal purposes. De Gubernatis tells us that in some districts pieces of Basil are worn by maidens in their bosoms or at their waists, and by married women in their hair: they believe also that the perfume of Basil engenders sympathy, from which comes its familiar name, Bacia-nicola—Kiss me, Nicholas! Rarely does the young peasant girl pay a visit to her sweetheart without affixing behind her ear a sprig of Basil, which she takes special care not to part with, as that would be a token of scorn. In Turkey, they call Basil, Amorino. In Moldavia, the Basil is regarded as an enchanted flower, whose spells can stop the wandering youth upon his way, and make him love the maiden from whose hand he shall accept a sprig.——In the East, Basil seeds are employed to counteract the poison of serpents: in India the leaves are used for the same purpose, as well as for the cure of several diseases. Gerarde says that “they of Africke do also affirme that they who are stung of the scorpion, and have eaten of it, shall feele no paine at all.” Orisabius likewise asserts that the plant is an antidote to the sting of those insects; but, on the other hand, Hollerius declares that it propagates scorpions, and that to his knowledge an acquaintance of his, through only smelling it, had a scorpion bred in his brain.——Lord Bacon, in his Natural History, states that if Basil is exposed too much to the sun, it changes into Wild Thyme, although the two herbs seem to have small affinity. Culpeper quaintly remarks: “Something is the matter; this herb and Rue will never grow together—no, nor near one another; and we know the Rue is as great an enemy to poison as any that grows.” Gerarde, however, tells us that the smell of Basil is good for the heart and for the head.——The plant is a paradox:—sacred and revered, yet dedicated to the Evil One; of happy augury, yet funereal; dear to women and lovers, yet emblem of hatred; propagator of scorpions, yet the antidote to their stings.——Astrologers rule that Basil is a herb of Mars, and under the Scorpion, and therefore called Basilicon.

BAUHINIA.—The leaves of the Bauhinia or Ebony-tree are two-lobed, or twin—a character, which suggested to Plumier the happy idea of naming the genus after the two famous brothers, John and Caspar Bauhin, botanists of the sixteenth century.

BEANS.—Among the ancients, there appears to have been a superstitious aversion to Beans as an article of food, arising from the resemblance of the fruit to a portion of the human body. The Egyptians, among whom the Sacred Bean was an object of actual worship, would not partake of it as food, probably on that account; because by so doing they would be fearful of eating what they considered was human, and of consuming a soul. By some nations the seed was consecrated to the gods.——The eating of Beans was interdicted to the Jewish High Priest on the Day of Atonement from its decided tendency to bring on sleep.——The goddess Ceres, when bestowing her gifts upon mankind, expressly excluded Beans. The unhappy Orpheus refused to eat them; Amphiaraus, the diviner, in order to preserve a clear vision, always abstained from them; the Flamines, Roman priests, instituted by Numa, would neither touch nor mention them; and the Grecian philosopher Pythagoras, who lived only on the purest and most innocuous food, invariably declined to partake of Beans of any description, giving as his reason that, in the Bean, he recognised blood, and consequently an animal, which, as a vegetarian, he could not consume. According to tradition, the great philosopher, being pursued by his enemies, was overtaken and killed, solely because, having in his flight reached a field of Beans, he would not cross it for fear of trampling upon living beings, the souls of the dead, who had entered temporarily, into the vegetable existence. Cicero considered that the antipathy to Beans as an article of food arose from their being considered impure, inasmuch as they corrupted the blood, distended the stomach, and excited the passions. Hippocrates considered them unwholesome and injurious to the eyesight. They were also believed to cause bad dreams, and, moreover, if seen in dreams, were deemed to portend evil.——One of the Greek words for Bean is Puanos, and at the festival of Puanepsia, held in the month of October, at Athens, in honour of Apollo, Beans and Pulse, we are told, were sodden. The Romans offered Beans to their goddess Carna on the occasion of her festival in the month of June.——The Lemures, or evil spirits of those who had lived bad lives, according to a Roman superstition, were in the habit, during the night-time, of approaching houses, and then throwing Beans against them. The Romans celebrated festivals in their honour in the month of May, when the people were accustomed to throw black Beans on the graves of the deceased, or to burn them, as the smell was supposed to be disagreeable to the manes. This association of Beans with the dead is still preserved in some parts of Italy, where, on the anniversary of a death, it is customary to eat Beans and to distribute them to the poor. Black Beans were considered to be male, and white female, the latter being the inferior.——De Gubernatis relates several curious customs connected with Beans. In Tuscany, the fire of St. John is lighted in a Bean-field, so that it shall burn quickly. In Sicily, on Midsummer Eve, Beans are eaten with some little ceremony, and the good St. John is thanked for having obtained the blessings of a bountiful harvest from God. At Modica, in Sicily, on October 1st, a maiden in love will sow two Beans in the same pot. The one represents herself, the other the youth she loves. If both Beans shoot forth before the feast of St. Raphael, then marriage will come to pass; but if only one of the Beans sprouts, there will be betrayal on the part of the other. In Sicily and Tuscany, girls who desire a husband learn their fate by means of Beans, in this fashion:—They put into a bag three Beans—one whole, another without the eye, a third without the rind. Then, after shaking them up, they draw one from the bag. The whole Bean signifies a rich husband; the Bean without an eye signifies a sickly husband; and the Bean without rind a husband without a penny.——The French have a legend, of one Pipette, who, like our Jack, reaches the sky by means of a Bean-stalk. In France, some parts of Italy, and Russia, on Twelfth Night, children eat a cake in which has been baked a white Bean and a black Bean. The children to whose lot fall the portions of cake containing the Beans become the King and Queen of the evening.——An old English charm to cure warts is to take the shell of a broad Bean, and rub the affected part with the inside thereof; the shell is then to be buried, and no one is to be told about the matter; then, as the shell withers away, so will the wart gradually disappear. It is a popular tradition that during the flowering of the Bean more cases of lunacy occur than at any other season. In Leap Year, it is a common notion that broad Beans grow the wrong way, i.e., the seed is set in the pods in quite the contrary way to what it is in other years. The reason given is that, because it is the ladies’ year, the Beans always lie the wrong way—in reference to the privilege possessed by the fair sex of courting in Leap Year. There is a saying in Leicestershire, that if you wish for awful dreams or desire to go crazy, you have only to sleep in a Bean-field all night.——Beans are under the dominion of Venus. To dream of them under any circumstances means trouble of some kind.

BEDSTRAW.—Our Lady’s Bedstraw (Galium verum) filled the manger on which the infant Jesus was laid. In a painting of the Nativity by N. Poussin, this straw is introduced. From its soft puffy stems and golden flowers, this grass was in bygone times used for bedding, even by ladies of rank,—whence the expression of their being “in the straw.”——Galium was formerly employed to curdle the milk in cheese-making, and was also used before the introduction of Annatto, to give a rich colour to Cheshire cheese. The old herbalists affirmed that the root stirred up amorous desires, if drunk in wine, and that the flowers would produce the same effect if smelt long enough. Robert Turner says: “It challenges the preheminence above Maywort, for preventing the sore weariness of travellers: the decoction of the herb and flowers, used warm, is excellent good to bath the surbated feet of footmen and lackies in hot weather, and also to lissome and mollifie the stiffness and weariness of their joynts and sinews.”——In France, Galium is considered to be a remedy in cases of epilepsy.——Lady’s Bedstraw is under the dominion of Venus.

BEECH.—Vieing with the Ash in stateliness and grandeur of outline, the Beech (Fagus) is worthily given by Rapin the second place among trees.

“Mixt with huge Oaks, as next in rank and state,
Their kindred Beech and Cerris claim a seat.”

According to Lucian, the oracles of Jupiter at Dodona were delivered not only through the medium of the sacred Oaks in the prophetic grove surrounding the temple, but also by Beeches which grew there. A large part, if not the whole, of the Greek ship Argo was built of Fagus, or Beech timber, and as certain beams in the vessel gave oracles to the Argonauts, and warned them against the approach of calamities, it is probable that some, at least, of these prophetic beams were hewn from the Dodonæan Beeches. It was from the top of two Beech-trees that Minerva and Apollo, in the form of vultures, selected to watch the fight between the Greeks and the Trojans.——The connection of the tree with the god Bacchus appears to have been confined to its employment in the manufacture of bowls for wine in the happy time when “No wars did men molest, and only Beechen bowls were in request.” Cowley alludes to this in the words—

“He sings the Bacchus, patron of the Vine,
The Beechen bowl foams with a flood of wine.”

Virgil notices the use of its smooth and green bark for receiving inscriptions from the “sylvan pen of lovers;” and Ovid, in his epistle from Œnone to Paris, refers to the same custom, gracefully noting that the name of the fair one would grow and spread with the growth of the tree:—

“The Beeches, faithful guardians of your flame,
Bear on their wounded trunks Œnone’s name,
And as their trunks, so still the letters grow;
Spread on, and fair aloft my titles show.”

According to a French tradition, a blacksmith, who was one day beating a bar of red-hot iron on his anvil, raised such a shower of sparks, that some of them reached the eyes of God himself, who forthwith, in His wrath, condemned the man to become a bear, with the condition that he might climb at his pleasure all the trees excepting the Beech. Changed into a bear, the man was for ever afterwards cogitating how to uproot the tree. In this legend, the Beech, which is generally considered a tree of good augury, becomes a specially favoured or privileged tree. Pliny wrote that it should not be cut for fuel. Gerarde says of it: “The wood is hard and firme, which being brought into the house there follows hard travail of child and miserable deaths, as it is reported; and therefore it is to be forborne, and not used as fire wood.” The Beech-tree is believed to be exempt from the action of lightning, and it is well known that Indians will seek its shelter during a thunderstorm. It is the Danish symbol.—Astrologers rule the Beech to be under the dominion of Saturn.

BELINUNCIA.—Under the appellation of Kêd, or Ceridwen, the Druids worshipped the Moon, who was believed to exercise a peculiar influence on storms, diseases, and certain plants. They consecrated a herb to her, called Belinuncia, in the poisonous sap of which they dipped their arrows, to render them as deadly as those malignant rays of the Moon which were deemed to shed both death and madness upon men.

BEL-TREE.—The Ægle Marmelos, Bilva (Sanscrit), or Bel-tree, is held sacred in India. Belonging to the same natural order as the Orange, its leaves, which are divided into three separate leaflets, are dedicated to the Hindu Trinity, and Indians are accustomed to carry one of them folded in the turban or sash, in order to propitiate Siva, and ensure safety from accidents. The wood is used to form the sacrificial pillars.——The Hindu women of the Punjab throw flowers into a sacred river, by means of which they can foretell whether or not they are to survive their husbands: but a much more ingenious rite is practised by the Newars of Nepaul. To obviate the terrible hardships to a young Hindu girl of becoming a widow, she is, in the first instance, married to a Bel-fruit, which is then cast into a sacred river. Should her future husband prove distasteful to her, this rite enables her to obtain a divorce; and should the husband die, she can still claim the title of wife to the sacred Bel-fruit, which is immortal; so that she is always a wife and never a widow.

Bell-flower.—See Blue-bell, and Campanula.

BETEL.—According to Indian traditions, the Betel was brought from heaven by Arjuna, who, during his journey to Paradise, stole a little bough of the sacred tree, which, upon his return to earth, he carefully planted. In remembrance of this celestial origin of the tree, and of the manner of its introduction to earth, Indians who desire to plant the Betel invariably steal a few young shoots.——The Betel, or Pepper-tree (Piper betle), is most highly esteemed by the Indian races, who attribute to its leaves no less than thirty properties or virtues, the possession of which, even by a plant of heavenly origin, can scarcely be credited. It is the leaf of the Betel which serves to enclose a few slices of the Areca Nut (sometimes erroneously called the Betel Nut); and these, together with a little Chunam or shell-lime, are what the natives universally chew to sweeten the breath and strengthen the stomach. The poor, indeed, employ it to keep off the pangs of hunger. In certain parts of the East, it is not considered polite to speak to a superior without some of the Betel and Areca compound in the mouth. At Indian marriage ceremonies, the bride and bridegroom exchange between themselves the same Areca Nut, with its accompanying Betel-leaf.——In Borneo, a favoured lover may enter the house of the loved one’s parents, at night, and awaken her, to sit and eat Betel Nut and the finest of Sirih-leaves from his garden.

BETONY.—The ‘Medicinal Betony,’ as Clare calls it, is Betonica officinalis, and of all the simples praised by old herbalists, both English and foreign, none (the Vervain excepted) was awarded a higher place than Wood Betony. Turner, in his ‘Brittish Physician’ (1687), writes:—“It would seem a miracle to tell what experience I have had of it. This herb is hot and dry, almost to the second degree, a plant of Jupiter in Aries, and is appropriated to the head and eyes, for the infirmities whereof it is excellent, as also for the breast and lungs; being boiled in milk, and drunk, it takes away pains in the head and eyes. Probatum. Some write it will cure those that are possessed with devils, or frantic, being stamped and applied to the forehead.” He gives a list of between twenty or thirty complaints which Betony will cure, and then says, “I shall conclude with the words I found in an old manuscript under the virtues of it: ‘More than all this have been proved of Betony.’” Gerarde gives a similar list, and adds, that Betony is “a remedy against the bitings of mad dogs and venomous serpents, being drunk, and also applied to the hurts, and is most singular against poyson.” There is an old saying that, when a person is ill, he should sell his coat, and buy Betony.——The Romans were well acquainted with the medicinal properties of this herb. Pliny wrote of the marvellous results obtained from its use, and also affirmed that serpents would kill one another if surrounded by a ring composed of Betonica. Antonius Musa, physician to Augustus, wrote a treatise on the excellencies of Betonica, which he affirmed would cure forty-seven different ailments. Franzius went so far as to assert that the wild beasts of the forest, aware of its surpassing virtues, availed themselves of its efficacy when they were wounded.——At a time when a belief in witchcraft was rife in England, it was generally understood that the house where Herba Betonica was sown, was free from all mischief. In Yorkshire, the Water Betony was formerly called Bishop’s Leaves. In Italy, at the present day, there are several proverbs relating to the virtues of Betony, one of which is, “May you have more virtues than Betony;” and another, “Known as well as Betony.”

BIGNONIA.—One of the native names of the Bignonia Indica, or Indian Trumpet-flower, is Kâmadûti, or the Messenger of Love. Under the name of Patala, the Bignonia suaveolens is specially consecrated by the Indians to the god Brahma. The name of Patala, however, is given in the Sanscrit to Durgâ, the wife of Siva, probably on account of the colour of her idols, which assimilate to the colour of the flowers of the Bignonia.

BILBERRY.—The origin of the Bilberry or Whortleberry (Vaccinium Myrtillus), according to the mythology of the ancients, is as follows:—Œnomaüs, father of the lovely Hippodamia, chose for his attendant the young Myrtillus, son of Mercury. Proud of his skill, he stipulated that all his daughter’s suitors should compete for the prize in a chariot race with him. Pelops, who was eager to obtain the beautiful Hippodamia, promised Myrtillus a large reward if he would take out the linch-pin of his master’s chariot. Myrtillus was not proof againt the offer: in consequence, the chariot was overturned, and Œnomaüs mortally injured; but as he expired, he implored Pelops to avenge him, which he did by throwing the treacherous attendant into the sea. The waters having borne back his body to the shore, Mercury changed it to the shrub called after his name, Myrtillus, a name formerly given to the plant producing the Myrtle-berry, a fruit largely imported in the middle ages, and used in medicine and cookery—of the same genus as the English Bilberry, which is often found growing on the sea-shore. The Scotch name of this shrub is Blaeberry, the praises of which are often sung in Northern ballads.

“Will ye go, lassie, go to the braes of Balquhidder,
Whare the Blaeberries grow ’mong the bonny blooming Heather?”

Bilberries are held by the astrologers to be under Jupiter. (See also Whortleberry.)

BIRCH.—According to Scandinavian mythology, the Birch (Betula alba) was consecrated to the god Thor, and symbolised the return of Spring. The Greeks and Romans had not much knowledge of the tree, but the latter seem to have regarded it with a feeling of dread in consequence of the fasces of the magistracy being composed of it, as now, says Evelyn, “are the gentler rods of our tyrannical pedagogues for lighter faults.” According to Pliny, the celebrated books which Numa Pompilius composed seven hundred years before Christ, and which were buried with him, were written on the bark of the Birch-tree.——It is in the northern countries of Europe that the Birch flourishes, and it is there the tree is held in the highest esteem. The Russians have a proverb that the Birch excels in four qualities:—It gives light to the world (with Birch-boughs torches are made); it stifles cries (from Birch they extract a lubricant which they apply to the wheels of carriages); it cleanses (in Russian baths, to promote perspiration, they scourge the body with branches of Birch); it cures diseases (by incision they obtain a liquor stated to have all the virtues of the spirit of salt, and from which a wine is distilled, excellent as a cordial and useful in cases of consumption). Moreover, in Russia, the oil of the Birch is used as a vermifuge and a balsam in the cure of wounds. In fact, to the peasants of the North, the Birch is as beneficent as is the Palm to the Indians. No wonder, then, that the Russians are very fond of the Birch, and surround their dwellings with it; believing, as they do, that this tree is never struck by lightning.——On the Day of Pentecost, it is a custom among young Russian maidens to suspend garlands on the trees they love best, and they are careful to tie round the stems of the Birch-trees a little red ribbon as a charm to cause them to flourish and to protect them from the Evil Eye. De Gubernatis quotes from a Russian author named Afanassief, who tells us of a Birch that showed its appreciation of the kindly attentions of a young girl in decking its stem, by protecting her from the persecutions of a witch, who had become her step-mother; and the same author makes mention of a certain white Birch, which grew in the island of Buian, on the topmost of whose branches it was currently believed the Mother of God might be seen sitting.——Grohmann, a German writer, recounts the legend of a young shepherdess, who was spinning in the midst of a forest of Birch-trees, when suddenly the Wild Woman of the forest accosted her. The Wild Woman was dressed in white, and had a garland of flowers upon her head: she persuaded the shepherdess to dance with her, and for three days kept up the dance until sunset, but so lightly that the grass under her feet was neither trampled upon nor bent. At the conclusion of the dance, all the yarn was spun, and the Wild Woman was so satisfied, that she filled the pocket of the little shepherdess with Birch-leaves, which soon turned into golden money.——Professor Mannhardt, says De Gubernatis, divulges to us the means employed by the Russian peasants to evoke the Lieschi, or Geni of the forest. They cut down some very young Birch-trees, and arrange them in a circle in such a manner that the points shall be turned towards the middle: they enter this circle, and then they call up the spirit, who forthwith makes his appearance. They place him on the stump of one of the felled trees, with his face turned towards the East. They kiss his hand, and, whilst looking between his legs, they utter these words:—“Uncle Lieschi, show yourself to us, not as a grey wolf, not as a fierce fire, but as I myself appear.” Then the leaves of the Aspen quiver and tremble, and the Lieschi shows himself in human form, and is quite disposed to render no matter what service to him who has conjured him—provided only that he will promise him his soul.——De Gubernatis relates one other anecdote respecting the Birch, which he says to the Esthonian is the living personification of his country. It is related that an Esthonian peasant noticed a stranger asleep beneath a tree at the moment when it was struck by lightning. He awoke him. The stranger, thanking him for his good offices, said: “When, far from your native country, and feeling sorrowful and home-sick, you shall see a crooked Birch, strike and ask of it: ‘Is the crooked one at home?’” One day the peasant, who had become a soldier, and was serving in Finland, felt dispirited and unhappy, for he could not help thinking of his home and the little ones he had left behind. Suddenly he sees the crooked Birch! He strikes it, and asks: “Is the crooked one at home?” Forthwith the mysterious stranger appears, and, calling to one of his spirits, bids him instantly transport the soldier to his native country, with his knapsack full of silver.——The Swedes have a superstition that our Saviour was scourged with a rod of the dwarf Birch, which was formerly a well-grown tree, but has ever since that day been doomed to hide its miserable and stunted head. It is called Láng Fredags Ris, or Good Friday rod.——In France, it was in mediæval times the custom to preserve a bough of the Birch as a sacred object. In the country districts around Valenciennes, it is an old custom for lovers to hang a bough of Birch or Hornbeam over the doorway of his lady-love. In Haute Bretagne, as a charm to strengthen a weakly infant, they place in its cot Birch-leaves, which have been previously dried in an oven. There is an old English proverb, “Birchen twigs break no bones,” which has reference to the exceedingly slender branches of the tree.——In former days, churches were decked with boughs of the Birch, and Gerarde tell us that “it serveth well to the decking up of houses and banqueting-rooms, for places of pleasure, and for beautifying of streets in the crosse and gang [procession] weeke, and such like.” According to Herrick, it was customary to use Birch and fresh flowers for decorative purposes at Whitsuntide:—

“When Yew is out, then Birch comes in,
And many flowers besides;
Both of a fresh and fragrant kinne,
To honour Whitsontide.”

The Scotch Highlanders think very highly of the Birch, and turn it to all sorts of uses. With Burns, the budding Birch was a prime favourite in the Spring-time. The Scotch proverb, which says of a very poor man that he is “Bare as a Birk at Yule e’en,” probably refers to an old custom of stripping the bark of the tree prior to converting it into the yule log. The tree known in the Highlands as the Drooping Birk is often grown in churchyards, where, as Scott says, “Weeps the Birch of silver bark with long dishevell’d hair.” In Scottish ballads, the Birch is associated with the dead, and more especially with the wraiths or spirits of those who appear to be living after death. The following is a good example:—

“I dreamed a dreary dream last nicht;
God keep us a’ frae sorrow!
I dreamed I pu’d the Birk sae green
Wi’ my true love on Yarrow.
“I’ll redde your dream, my sister dear,
I’ll tell you a’ your sorrow;
You pu’d the Birk wi’ your true love;
He’s killed, he’s killed on Yarrow.”

The Birch-tree is held to be under the dominion of Venus.

Bitter-Sweet.—See Solanum.

BITTER VETCH.—The Orobus, or Bitter Vetch, is supposed to represent the herb mentioned in a passage in Pulci, which relates how an enchanter preserves two knights from starvation, during a long journey, by giving them a herb which, being held in the mouth, answers all the purposes of food.——The Scotch Highlanders have a great esteem for the tubercles of the Orobus root (which they call Corr or Cormeille); they use them as masticatories, to flavour their liquor. They also affirm that by the use of them they are enabled to repel hunger and thirst for a considerable time. In times of scarcity, the roots have served as a substitute for bread, and many think that the Bitter Vetch is the Chara, mentioned by Cæsar, as affording food to his famished soldiers at the siege of Dyrrhachium. The seeds, ground and tempered with wine, were applied to heal the bitings of dogs and venomous beasts.

Black-Thorn.—See Thorn.

Blaeberry.—See Bilberry and Whortleberry.

BLUE-BELL.—The Blue-bells of Scotland have long since become household words. The flower (Campanula latifolia) is the finest and most stately of the species, and although common enough on its native hills, is scarce in England. It is associated with the feast of St. George. (See Campanula.)

Blue-Bottle and Bluet.—See Centaury.

Bo-Tree.—See Peepul.

BORAGE.—In former days, Borage (Borago officinalis) was noted as one of the four “cordial flowers” most deserving of esteem for cheering the spirits—the other three being the Rose, Violet, and Alkanet. Pliny called Borage Euphrosynum, because it made men merry and joyful: and to the same purport is the old Latin rhyme, “Ego Borago gaudia semper ago.” All the old herbalists praise the plant for its exhilarating effects, and agree with Pliny that when put into wine the leaves and flowers of Borage make men and women glad and merry, driving away all sadness, dulness, and melancholy. The “cool tankard” of our forefathers was a beverage composed of the young shoots and blossoms of Borage mingled with wine, water, lemon, and sugar. Lord Bacon was of opinion that “if in the must of wine or wort of beer, while it worketh, before it be tunned, the Burrage stay a short time, and be changed with fresh, it will make a sovereign drink for melancholy passion.”——Borage, astrologers tell us, is one of Jupiter’s cordials.

BOX.—The evergreen Box (Buxus semperviva) was specially consecrated by the Greeks to Pluto, the protector of all evergreen trees, as being symbolical of the life which continues through the winter in the infernal regions, and in the other world.——A curious superstition existed among the ancients in regard to the Box: although it very much resembles the Myrtle, which was held sacred to Venus, yet they carefully refrained from dedicating the Box to that goddess, because they were afraid that through such an offering they would lose their virility. They also, according to Bacon, entertained the belief that the Box produced honey, and that in Trebizonde the honey issuing from this tree was so noxious, that it drove men mad. Corsican honey was supposed to owe its ill repute to the fact that the bees fed upon Box. The Box is referred to by the Prophet Isaiah in his description of the glory of the latter days of the Church: “The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the Fir-tree, the Pine-tree, and the Box-tree together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary.” It is thought, also, to be the Ashur-wood of the Scriptures, and to be referred to by Ezekiel when, in describing the splendour of Tyre, he alludes to the benches of the rowers as made of Ashur wood, inlaid with ivory. That the ancients were accustomed to inlay Box-wood with ivory we know from Virgil and other writers, who allude to this practice.——The Jews employ branches of Box in erecting their tents at the Feast of Tabernacles.——Boughs of Box were used formerly for decorative purposes, instead of the Willow, on Palm Sundays. According to Herrick, it was once a time-honoured custom on Candlemas Day to replace the Christmas evergreens with sprigs of Box, which were kept up till Easter Eve, when they gave place to Yew.

“Down with the Rosemary and Bays,
Down with the Mistletoe;
Instead of Holly now upraise
The greener Box for show.”

Box-boughs were also in olden times regularly gathered at Whitsuntide for decking the large open fire-places then in vogue.——In several parts of the North of England, when a funeral takes place, a basin full of sprigs of Box is placed at the door of the house from which the coffin is taken up, and each mourner is expected to take a sprig, and afterwards cast it on the grave of the deceased.——In Turkey, it is a practice with widows, who go weekly to pray at their husbands’ tomb, to plant a sprig of Box at the head of the grave. The monastery of St. Christine, in the Pyrenees, assumes the arms of the Knights of St. Christine, viz., a white pigeon with a cross in its beak, to which is attached the following legend:—The workmen who were employed to build the monastery had the greatest difficulty in finding a suitable foundation. After several ineffectual attempts, they one morning perceived a white pigeon flying with a cross in its beak. They pursued the bird, which perched on a Box-tree, but though it flew away on their near approach, they found in the branches the cross which it had left: this they took as a good omen, and proceeded successfully to lay the foundation on the spot where the Box-tree had stood, and completed the edifice.——To dream of Box denotes long life and prosperity, also a happy marriage.

BRACKEN FERN.—There was formerly a proverb respecting the Pteris aquilina, or common Brake Fern, popular in the country:—

“When the Fern is as high as a spoon,
You may sleep an hour at noon;
When the Fern is as high as a ladle,
You may sleep as long as you’re able;
When the Fern begins to look red,
Then milk is good with brown bread.”

In Ireland, the Bracken Fern is called the Fern of God, from an old belief that if the stem be cut into three pieces, there will be seen on the first slice the letter G, on the second O, and on the third D,—the whole forming the sacred word God. There is still a superstition in England, probably derived from some holy father, that in the cut stem of the Bracken Fern may be traced the sacred letters I.H.S. In Kent, and some other counties, these letters are deciphered as J.C. In other parts of the country, the marks are supposed to delineate an Oak, and to have first grown there in memory of the tree in which King Charles sought shelter during his flight.——An old legend is yet told, that James, the unfortunate Duke of Monmouth, after the battle of Sedgemoor, was able to lie concealed for some days beneath the dense Bracken Ferns; but one day, emerging from his retreat, he sat down and began cutting some of the Fern-stems which had sheltered him. Whilst doing this, he was seen by some peasants, who noticed the flash of a diamond ring on one of his fingers. When, therefore, a reward was offered soon afterwards for the Duke’s capture, they recalled the circumstance, and sought for him where he lay concealed among the Brakes.——Connected with this figure of an Oak in the Bracken-stem, there is a saying, that if you cut the Bracken slantwise, you’ll see a picture of an Oak-tree; the more perfect, the luckier your chance will be. In Germany, the figure portrayed in the stem is popularly recognised as the Russian Double Eagle. Of still more ancient origin, however, is the opinion that the figure in the Brake Fern-stem is that of an eagle, from whence it derived its name of Eagle Fern. In Henderson’s ‘Folk Lore of the Northern Counties,’ we read that witches detest the Bracken Fern because it bears on its root the letter C, the initial of the holy name of Christ, which may be plainly seen on cutting the root horizontally. It has, however, been suggested that the letter intended is not the English C, but the Greek Χ, the initial letter of the word Christos, which resembles closely the marks on the root of the Bracken. These marks, however, have been also stated to represent Adam and Eve standing on either side of the Tree of Knowledge, and King Charles in the Oak. In some parts, lads and lasses try to discover in the Bracken-stem the initials of their future wife or husband.——Astrologers state that the Bracken Fern is under the dominion of Mercury.

BRAMBLE, or BLACKBERRY.—The Bramble or Blackberry-bush (Rubus fruticosus) is said to be the burning bush, in the midst of which Jehovah appeared to Moses. It is the subject of the oldest apologue extant. We read in Judges ix., 8–15, how Jotham, when bitterly reproaching the men of Shechem for their ingratitude to his father’s house, narrated to them, after the Oriental fashion, the parable of the trees choosing a king, in which their choice eventually fell upon the Bramble. According to some accounts, it was the Bramble that supplied the Thorns which were plaited into a crown, and worn by our Saviour just prior to the Crucifixion.——On St. Simon and St. Jude’s Day (October 28th) tradition avers that Satan sets his foot on the Bramble, after which day not a single edible Blackberry can be found. In Sussex, they say that, after Old Michaelmas Day (10th October), the Devil goes round the county and spits on the Blackberries. In Scotland, it is thought that, late in the Autumn, the Devil throws his cloak over the Blackberries, and renders them unwholesome. In Ireland, there is an old saying, that “at Michaelmas the Devil put his foot on the Blackberries;” and in some parts of that country the peasants will tell their children, after Michaelmas Day, not to eat the Grian-mhuine (Blackberries); and they attribute the decay in them, which about that time commences, to the operation of the Phooka, a mischievous goblin, sometimes assuming the form of a bat or bird, at other times appearing as a horse or goat.——The ancients deemed both the fruit and flowers of the Bramble efficacious against the bites of serpents; and it was at one time believed that so astringent were the qualities of this bush, that even its young shoots, when eaten as a salad, would fasten teeth that were loose. Gerarde, however, for that purpose recommends a decoction of the leaves, mixed with honey, alum, and a little wine, and adds that the leaves “heale the eies that hang out.”——In Cornwall, Bramble-leaves, wetted with spring water, are employed as a charm for a scald or burn. The moistened leaves are applied to the burn whilst the patient repeats the following formula:—

“There came three angels out of the East,
One brought fire, and two brought frost;
Out fire and in frost;
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Amen.”

A similar incantation to the above is used as a charm for inflammatory disease. The formula is repeated three times to each one of nine Bramble-leaves immersed in spring water, passes being meanwhile made with the leaves from the diseased part. A cure for rheumatism is to crawl under a Bramble, which has formed a second root in the ground; and to charm away boils, the sufferer should pass nine times, against the Sun, under a Bramble-bush growing at both ends. In Devonshire, a curious charm for the cure of blackhead or pinsoles consisted in creeping under an arched Bramble. The person affected by this troublesome malady has to creep on hands and knees under or through a Bramble three times, with the Sun—that is, from east to west. The Bramble must be of peculiar growth, forming an arch rooting at both ends, and if possible reaching into two proprietors’ lands; so that a Bramble is by preference selected, of which the original root is in the hedge of one owner, and the end of the branch forming the arch is rooted in the meadow of another.——The Bramble has funereal associations, and its young shoots have long been used to bind down the sods on newly-made graves in village churchyards. Jeremy Taylor, when commenting on mortality, says, referring to this custom: “The Summer gives green turf and Brambles to bind upon our graves.”——The Moat of Moybolgue, in the County of Cavan, is a sacred place in Ireland, where St. Patrick ministered. According to a legend, Honor Garrigan, one Sunday during the saint’s lifetime, rode up the hill to church; but espying a bunch of ripe Blackberries, she dismounted in order to gather them. Her servant lad remonstrated upon the wickedness of her breaking her fast before receiving the Holy Communion, but in vain; his mistress ate the Blackberries, and then her hunger increased to famine pitch, and she ate the boy and then the horse. St. Patrick, alarmed by the cries of his congregation, who were afraid the wicked woman would devour them also, shot her with his bow and arrow—her body separating into four sections, which were buried in a field outside the churchyard; St. Patrick prophesying to the terrified crowd that she would lie quiet till nine times nine of the name of Garrigan should cross the stream which separated the roads from the churchyard. When that took place, she would rise again, and devour all before her; and that would be the way she would be destroyed. The water of the stream has ever since been held sacred, and effects miraculous cures.——The Bramble is said to be a plant of Mars. To dream of passing through places covered with Brambles, portends troubles; if they prick you, secret enemies will do you an injury with your friends; if they draw blood, expect heavy losses in trade. To dream of passing through Brambles unhurt, denotes a triumph over enemies.

Breakstone.—See Saxifrage.

BROOM.—The English royal line of Plantagenet undoubtedly derived its name from the Broom (Planta genista), the Gen of the Celts, the Genêt of the French, and from time immemorial the badge of Brittany. According to Skinner, the house of Anjou derived the name of Plantagenet from Fulke, the first earl of that name, who, it is said, having killed his brother in order that he might enjoy his principality, afterwards, touched by remorse, undertook a pilgrimage to Jerusalem as a work of atonement; and being there soundly scourged with Broom-twigs, which grew plentifully on the spot, he ever after took the surname of Plantagenet, and bore the Genêt as his personal cognisance, which was retained by his noble posterity. Another legend, however, relates that this badge was first adopted by Gefroi, Earl of Anjou, the father of Henry II., and husband of Matilda, Empress of Germany. Passing on his way to the battle-field through a rocky pathway, on either side of which bushes of yellow Broom clung firmly to the boulders, or upheld the crumbling earth, Gefroi broke off a branch and fixed it as a plume in his cap, saying, “Thus shall this golden plant ever be my cognisance—rooted firmly among rocks, and yet upholding that which is ready to fall.” He afterwards took the name of Plantagenet (Planta genista) and transmitted it to his princely posterity. His son Henry was called the Royal Sprig of Genista, and the Broom continued to be the family device down to the last of the Plantagenets, Richard III. It may be seen on the great seal of Richard I., its first official heraldic appearance.——In 1234, St. Louis of France established a new order of Knighthood, called l’Ordre du Genest, on the occasion of his marriage with Queen Marguerite. The Knights of the Genest wore a chain composed of blossoms of the Genêt (Broom) in gold alternately with white enamelled Fleurs de Lis, from which was suspended, a gold cross with the motto “Deus exaltat humiles.” One hundred Knights of the Order of the Genest acted as a body-guard to the King. The order was long held in high esteem, and one of its recipients was Richard II.——The Broom may well be symbolic of humility, for, according to a Sicilian legend, it was accursed for having made such a noise in the garden of Gethsemane during the time that Jesus Christ was praying there, that His persecutors were thus enabled to surprise Him. Hemmed in by His enemies, Jesus, turning towards the traitorous shrub, pronounced on it this malediction: “May you always make as much noise when you are being burnt.”——In England, the Broom has always been held as one of the plants beloved by witches. In Germany, the Broom is the plant selected for decorations on Whit-Sunday: it is also used as a charm. When a limb has been amputated, the charmer takes a twig from a Broom, and after pressing the wound together with it, wraps it in the bloody linen, and lays it in a dry place, saying:

“The wounds of our Lord Christ
They are not bound;
But these wounds they are bound
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”

In Tuscany, on the day of the Fête-Dieu, it is often employed. In England, it is considered that if the Broom has plenty of blossoms, it is the sign of a plentiful grain harvest. In Suffolk and Sussex, there is a saying that—

“If you sweep the house with blossomed Broom in May,
You are sure to sweep the head of the house away.”

By the old herbalists the Broom was considered a panacea for a multiplicity of disorders, and Gerarde tells us that no less a personage than “that worthy Prince of famous memory, Henry VIII., of England, was wont to drink the distilled water of Broome-floures, against surfets and diseases thereof arising.”——Broom is under the planetary influence of Mars.

BRIONY.—The poisonous fruit or berries of the Black Briony (Tamus) are supposed to remove sunburns, freckles, bruises, black eyes, and other blemishes of the skin. Another name of this wild Vine is Our Lady’s Seal. The root of the White Briony may be made to grow in any shape by placing it when young in an earthenware mould. In olden times, designing people by this means obtained roots of frightful forms, which they exhibited as curiosities, or sold as charms. The anodyne necklace, which was a profitable affair for one Doctor Turner in the early part of the present century, consisted of beads made of white Briony-root: it was believed to assist in cutting the teeth of infants, around whose neck it was hung.——Briony is under the dominion of Mars.

BUCKTHORN.—Of one variety of Buckthorn (Rhamnus palinurus) it is said that Christ’s Crown of Thorns was composed. Of another variety (R. Frangula) the Mongols make their idols, selecting the wood on account of its rich hue.——The Buckthorn is under the dominion of Saturn.

BUGLOSS.—The Bugloss (Anchusa) has been made the emblem of Falsehood, because the roots of one of its species (A. tinctoria) are used in making rouge for the face. In the wilds of America, the Indians paint their bodies red with the root of a Bugloss (Anchusa Virginica) indigenous to their country. Galen notices the use of the Bugloss as a cosmetic in his time, and the rouge made from the roots of this plant is said to be the most ancient of all the paints prepared for the face.——Pliny says that the Anchusa was used by the Romans for colouring and dyeing; and adds, that if a person who has chewed this plant should spit in the mouth of a venomous creature, he would kill it.——The Viper’s Bugloss (Echium vulgare) derives its name from its seed being like the head of a viper, and, according to Matthiolus, was celebrated for curing its bites. Nicander also speaks of the Viper’s Bugloss as one of those plants which cure the biting of serpents, and especially of the viper, and that drive serpents away. Dioscorides, as quoted by Gerarde, writes, “The root drunk with wine is good for those that be bitten with serpents, and it keepeth such from being stung as have drunk of it before: the leaves and seeds do the same.”——Bugloss is reputed to be under the dominion of Jupiter.

BULRUSH.—King Midas, having preferred the singing of Marsyas, the satyr, to that of Apollo, the god clapped upon him a pair of ass’s ears. The king’s barber saw them, and, unable to keep the secret, buried it at the foot of a cluster of Bulrushes. These Reeds, shaken by the wind, continually murmured, “King Midas has ass’s ears.” Both the Scirpus lacustris and Typha latifolia (the Reed Mace) are popularly known as the Bulrush (a corruption of Pole Rush or Pool Rush). The Typha is depicted by Rubens, and the earlier Italian painters, as the Reed put into the hands of Jesus Christ upon His crucifixion. The same Reed is, on certain days, put into the hands of the Roman Catholic statues of our Saviour. Gerarde calls this Reed Cat’s-tail, and points out that Aristophanes makes mention of it in his ‘Comedy of Frogs,’ “where he bringeth them forth, one talking with another, being very glad that they had spent the whole day in skipping and leaping among Galingale and Cat’s-tail.”——The Bulrushes, among which the infant Moses was placed on the banks of the Nile, were Reeds not unlike the Typha. The ark in which he was laid was probably a small canoe constructed with the same Reed—the Papyrus Nilotica, which, according to Egyptian belief, was a protection from crocodiles. Gerarde says: “It is thought by men of great learning and understanding in the Scriptures, and set downe by them for truth, that this plant is the same Reed mentioned in the second chapter of Exodus, whereof was made that basket or cradle, which was daubed within and without with slime of that country, called Bitumen Judaicum, wherein Moses was put, being committed to the water, when Pharaoh gave commandment that all the male children of the Hebrews should be drowned.”——Boats and canoes formed of the Papyrus are common in Abyssinia. In South America, a similar kind of Bulrush is used for a like purpose.——The Bulrush is under the dominion of Saturn.

BURDOCK.—Everyone is acquainted with the prickly burs of the Arctium Lappa, or Burdock, which, by means of their hooks, are apt to cling so tenaciously to the passer-by. There exists an old belief among country lads, that they can catch bats by throwing these burs at them. The plant is also known by the names of Great-bur, Hur-bur, and Clot-bur, and has an ancient reputation for curing rheumatism.——It was under the great leaf of a Burdock that the original Hop-o’-my-Thumb, of nursery-rhyme celebrity, sought refuge from a storm, and was, unfortunately, swallowed, enclosed in the leaf, by a passing hungry cow.——In Albania, there is a superstitious belief that, if a man has been influenced by the demons of the forest, the evil spirit must be exorcised by the priest; a portion of the ceremony consisting of the steeping of bread in wine, and spreading it on the broad leaves of a Burdock.——Venus is the planet under whose rule astrologers place Burdock.

BURITI.—The Buriti Palm (Mauritia vinifera) attains, in Brazil, gigantic proportions, and its rich red and yellow fruit, “like quilted cannon balls,” hang in bunches five feet long. From it flour, wine, and butter are made, whilst the fibre of the leaves supplies thread for weaving, &c. Another species, M. flexuosa, flourishes in the valleys and swamps of South America, where the native Indians regard it with great reverence, living almost entirely on its products; and, what is very remarkable, building their houses high up amongst its leaves, where they live during the floods.

BURNET.—The Burnet Saxifrage (Pimpinella Saxifraga) appears to be considered a magical plant in Hungary, where it is called Châbairje, or Chaba’s Salve, from an old tradition that King Chaba discovered it, and cured the wounds of fifteen thousand of his soldiers after a sanguinary battle fought against his brother.——In a work on astrology, purported to be written by King Solomon, and translated from the Hebrew by Iroé Grego, it is stated that the magician’s sword ought to be steeped in the blood of a mole and in the juice of Pimpinella.——In Piedmont, the Pimpinella is thought to possess the property of increasing the beauty of women.——Burnet is a herb of the Sun.

BUTCHER’S BROOM.—A species of Butcher’s Broom, Ruscus hypoglossum, was the Alexandrian Laurel of the Romans, who formed of this shrub the so-called Laurel crowns worn by distinguished personages. It is the Laurel generally depicted on busts, coins, &c.——The name of Butcher’s Broom was given to this plant because in olden times butchers were in the habit of sweeping their blocks with hand brooms made of its green shoots. In Italy, branches of the plant, tied together, are commonly employed as besoms for sweeping houses; and hucksters place boughs of it round bacon and cheese to defend them from the mice. The Ruscus aculeatus, besides its ordinary name of Butcher’s Broom, is called Knee-holme, Knee-pulver, Knee-holly, Pettigree, and sometimes Jews’ Myrtle, because it is sold to the Jews for use during the Feast of the Tabernacles. In combination with Horse-radish, the plant, boiled for a decoction, is said to be serviceable in cases of dropsy; and its boughs are often used in this country for flogging chilblains.——Butcher’s Broom has been used and claimed by the Earls of Sutherland as the distinguishing badge of their followers and clan. The present Duke retains it, and every Sutherland volunteer still wears a sprig of Butcher’s Broom in his bonnet on field days.——Butcher’s Broom is under the dominion of Mars.

Buttercups.—See Ranunculus.

CABBAGE.—A Grecian legend recounts that the Cabbage (Brassica) sprang from the tears of Lycurgus, Prince of Thrace, whom Dionysus had bound to a Vine-stock as a punishment for the destruction of Vines of which the Prince had been guilty. Perhaps this ancient legend may account for the belief that the Cabbage, like the Laurel, is inimical to the Vine; and it may also have given rise to the employment by the Egyptians and the Greeks of this vegetable as a most powerful remedy for the intoxication produced by the fruit of the Vine. Bacon, in his Sylva Sylvarum, says: “So the Colewort (Cabbage) is not an enemy (though that were anciently received) to the Vine onely; but it is an enemy to any other plant, because it draweth strongly the fattest juyce of the earth.” He also tells us that “it is reported that the shrub called Our Ladie’s Seal (which is a kinde of Briony) and Coleworts, set neare together, one or both will die.” Gerarde says that the Greeks called the Cabbage Amethustos, “not onely because it driveth away drunkennesse, but also for that it is like in colour to the pretious stone called the Amethyst.”——The ancient Ionians, in their oaths, invoked the Cabbage. Nicander calls the Cabbage a sacred plant.——In Scotland, young women determine the figure and size of their future husbands by drawing Cabbages, blindfolded, on Hallowe’en.——In some country places, the housewife considers it a lucky omen if her Cabbages grow “double,” i.e., with two shoots from one root; or “lucker,” that is, with the leaves spreading open.——A Cabbage stalk or stump is a favourite steed upon which the “good people,” or fairies, are wont to travel in the air. Mr. Croker, in his ‘Fairy Legends of Ireland,’ relates that at Dundaniel, a village near Cork, in a pleasant outlet called Blackrock, there lived not many years ago a gardener named Crowley, who was considered by his neighbours as under fairy control, and suffered from what they termed “the falling sickness” resulting from the fatigue attendant on the journeys which he was compelled to take; being forced to travel night after night with the good people on one of his own Cabbage-stumps.——The Italian expressions, “Go among the Cabbages,” and “Go hide among the Cabbages,” mean to die. In the North, however, children are told that “Baby was fetched out of the Cabbage-bed.”——In Jersey, the Palm Cabbage is much cultivated, and reaches a considerable height. In La Vendée, the Cæsarean Cow Cabbage grows sixteen feet high. Possibly these gigantic Cabbages may have given rise to the nursery tales of some of the continental states, in which the young hero emulates the exploits of the English Jack and his Bean-stalk, by means of a little Cabbage, which grows larger and larger, and finally, becoming colossal, reaches the skies.——In England, there is a nursery legend which relates how the three daughters of a widow were one day sent into the kitchen garden to protect the Cabbages from the ravages of a grey horse which was continually stealing them. Watching their opportunity, they caught him by the mane and would not be shaken off; so the grey horse trotted away to a neighbouring hill, dragging the three girls after him. Arrived at the hill, he commanded it to open, and the widows’ daughters found themselves in an enchanted palace.——A tradition in the Havel country, North Germany, relates that one Christmas Eve a peasant felt a great desire to eat Cabbage, and having none himself, he slipped into a neighbour’s garden to cut some. Just as he had filled his basket, the Christ Child rode past on his white horse, and said: “Because thou hast stolen on the holy night, thou shalt immediately sit in the moon with thy basket of Cabbage.” The culprit was immediately wafted up to the moon, and there, as the man in the moon, he is still undergoing his penalty for stealing Cabbages on Christmas Eve.——To dream of cutting Cabbages denotes jealousy on the part of wife, husband, or lover, as the case may be. To dream of anyone else cutting them portends an attempt by some person to create jealousy in the loved one’s mind. To dream of eating Cabbage implies sickness to loved ones and loss of money.——Cabbages are plants of the Moon.

CACTUS.—The Cacti are for the most part natives of South America, where their weird and grotesque columns or stems, devoid of leaves, dot with green the arid plains of New Barcelona or the dark hillsides of Mexico and California. They often attain the height of fifty feet, and live to such an age as to have gained the name of “imperishable statues.” Standing for centuries, they have been selected to mark national boundaries, as for instance, between the English and French possessions in the Island of St. Christopher, West Indies, and they are also employed as hedges to lanes and roadways. In the arid plains of Mexico and Brazil, the Cacti serve as reservoirs of moisture, and not only the natives, by probing the fleshy stems with their long forest knives, supply themselves with a cool and refreshing juice, but even the parched cattle contrive to break through the skin with their hoofs, and then to suck the liquid they contain. The splendid colours of the Cactus flowers are in vivid contrast with the ugly and ungainly stems.——There are sundry local legends and superstitions about these plants of the desert. A certain one poisons every white spot on a horse, but not one of any other colour. Another, eaten by horses, makes them lazy and imbecile.——The number of known genera is eighteen, and there are six hundred species, two of which are specially cultivated, viz., Opuntia Cochinellifera (Nopal plant), largely grown in Mexico, as the food plant of the Cochineal insect (Coccus Cacti), which produces a beautiful crimson dye; and C. vulgaris, or Prickly Pear, which is cultivated for its grateful Gooseberry-like fruits in barren rocky parts of North Africa and Southern Europe.——Peruvian sorcerers make rag dolls, and stick the thorns of Cactus in them, or hide these thorns in holes under or about houses, or in the wool of beds and cushions, that those they wish to harm may be crippled, maddened, or suffocated.

Calf’s-snout.—See Antirrhinum.

CAMELLIA.—The flower of the beauteous Rose of Japan (Camellia Japonica) has been well described as—

“The chaste Camellia’s pure and spotless bloom,
That boasts no fragrance and conceals no Thorn.”

The tree was introduced into Europe in 1639, and is named after G. J. Kamel, or Camellus, a Moravian Jesuit, and traveller in Asia, who, returning to Spain from the Isle of Luzon, sought an audience of Queen Maria Theresa, and presented her with a mother-o’-pearl vase, in which grew a small shrub with glossy green leaves, bearing two flowers of dazzling whiteness. Plucking the fair bloom, she ran to the king’s chamber, which he was pacing in one of his periodical fits of melancholy. “Behold the new flower of the Philippines,” she cried, as her husband welcomed her with a fond embrace; “I have kept the best for you; the other you shall present to-night to Rosalez, who plays so well in Cinna, at the Theatre del Principe.” Ferdinand pronounced the flower of which his wife was so enraptured to be “beautiful but scentless,” but spite of the latter defect, the plant was assiduously cultivated in the hothouses of El Buen Retiro, and called after the giver, the Camellia.——In Japan, the Camellia is a large and lofty tree, greatly esteemed by the natives for the beauty of its flowers and evergreen foliage, and grown everywhere in their groves and gardens: it is also a native of China, and figures frequently in Chinese paintings. The Camellia Sasanqua, the Cha-Hwa of the Chinese, has fragrant flowers, and its dried leaves are prized for the scent obtained from them; a decoction is used by the ladies of China and Japan as a hair-wash.——This shrub so resembles the Tea-plant, both in leaf and blossom, that they are not readily distinguished: the leaves are mixed with Tea to render its odour more grateful.

CAMPANULA.—One of the chief favourites in the family of Campanulaceæ, or Bell-flowers, is Campanula Speculum, or Venus’s Looking-glass. The English name was given to this little plant probably because its brilliant corollas appear to reflect the sun’s rays, although some authorities state that it is so called from the glossiness of the seeds. Still another derivation is the resemblance of the flower’s round-shaped bloom to the form of the mirror of the ancients, which was always circular; and the plant being graceful and extremely pretty, it was appropriated to the Goddess of Beauty. The classics, however, ignore all these derivations, and give us the following account of the origin of the

“Floral bough that swingeth
And tolls its perfume on the passing air.”

In one of her rambles on earth, Venus accidentally dropped a certain mirror which she was carrying, and which possessed the quality of beautifying whatever it reflected. A shepherd picked it up; but no sooner had he gazed upon its wondrous reflecting surface, than he forgot forthwith his favourite nymph, and it is to be presumed himself as well; for, like another Narcissus, he became enamoured of his own visage, and could do nothing but admire his own charms. Cupid, who had discovered his mother’s loss, and found out how matters stood with the foolish shepherd, became fearful of the consequences of such a silly error; he, therefore, broke the magic mirror, and transformed the glittering fragments into those bright little flowers, which have ever since been called Venus’s Looking-glass.——Miller mentions seventy-eight kinds of Campanula, the best known of which are the Canterbury-bells, Coventry-bells, the Heath-bell, and the Giant Throat-wort, a flower mentioned by Sir Walter Scott in his poem of ‘Rokeby’:—

“He laid him down,
Where purple Heath profusely strown,
And Throat-wort, with its azure bell,
And Moss, and Thyme, his cushion swell.”

(See also Canterbury Bells).

CAMPHOR.—The Camphire or Camphor-tree (Laurus Camphora) is principally found in China and Japan. Camphor is obtained by boiling the wood of this tree, in which the gum exists, ready formed. The Arabians at a very early period were acquainted with the virtues of the Camphor-trees of Sumatra and Borneo, the produce of which is known as Native Camphor.

Campion.—See Lychnis, and Ragged Robin.

CANDY-TUFT.—The Iberis, or, as we call it in English, Candy-tuft (from Candia, whence we first received the plant), is singularly devoid of any poetical or traditional lore. Old Gerarde tells us that Lord Edward Zouche sent him some seeds which he sowed in his garden, and reared in due course. He calls it Candie Mustard, Thlaspi Candiæ, the latter being one of the names by which the plant was known in France. In that country, more importance seems to have been attached to the flower, or, at any rate, more notice was taken of it by poets and literati, for we find that one of the species was distinguished as being the emblem of architecture, from the fact that its flowers are disposed in stories from the base to the summit of the stalk, resembling in some little degree the open columns of one of the most delicate orders of architecture. Rapin, the French Jesuit poet, alludes to this flower in his poem on Gardens, and briefly gives the mythology of Thlaspis in the following lines:—

“Now, on high stems will Matricaria rear
Her silver blooms, and with her will appear
Thlaspis, a Cretan youth, who won the fair:
Happy if more auspicious Hymen’s rites
Had with pure flames adorned their nuptial lights.”

CANNA.—The Burmese esteem as sacred the Bohdda Tharanat (Canna Indica, or Indian Shot), so named from its seeds, which are used for the beads of the rosary. The flowers are red, or sometimes white. The Burman believes that it sprang from Buddha’s blood; and the legend relates that his evil-minded brother-in-law and cousin Dewadat, enraged that he was not allowed to have a separate assembly of his own, went to the top of a hill, and rolled down a huge stone, intending to destroy the most excellent payah. But the boulder burst into a thousand pieces, and only one little piece bruised Buddha’s toe, and drew a few drops of blood, whence sprang the sacred flower, the Bohdda Tharanat. The renowned physician Zaywaku healed the great teacher’s wound in a single day. The earth soon afterwards opened and swallowed up the sacrilegious Dewadat.

CANTERBURY BELLS.—The Nettle-leaved Bell-flower, Campanula Trachelium, was so called by Gerarde from growing plentifully in the low woods about Canterbury, and possibly in allusion to its resemblance to the hand-bells which were placed on poles, and rung by pilgrims when proceeding to the shrine of Thomas à Becket—St. Thomas, of England. There is, however, a tradition extant that the name of Canterbury Bells was given to the Campanula in memory of St. Augustine.

CARDAMINE.—The faint sweet Cuckoo-flower, common in meadows and by brook sides, is the Cardamine pratensis. It was so called, says Gerarde, because it flowers in April and May, “when the cuckoo doth begin to sing her pleasant notes without stammering.” The flower is also called Lady’s Smock, and Our Lady’s Smock, from the resemblance of its pale flowers to little smocks hung out to dry, as they used to be once a year, at that season especially. Shakspeare alludes to it in these lines:—

“When Daisies pied and Violets blue,
And Lady-smocks all silver white,
And Cuckoo-buds of yellow hue,
Do paint the meadows with delight.
When shepherd’s pipe on oaten straws,
And maidens bleach their Summer smocks,” &c.

The Cuckoo-buds here alluded to are supposed to be a species of Ranunculus; and, perhaps, as the Cardamine pratensis is rather a pale blue than a silver-white flower, Shakspeare alluded in these lines to C. amara, whose brilliantly-white blossoms might well be taken for linen laid out to bleach. The plant derives its name Cardamine from its taste of Cardamoms. It is also called Meadow Cress. For some reason, if this flower was found introduced into a May-day garland, it was torn to pieces immediately on discovery. Our Lady’s Smock is associated by the Catholics with the Day of the Annunciation.——The Cardamine is a herb of the Moon.

CARDINAL-FLOWER.—Of the extensive Lobelia family the L. Cardinalis, or Cardinal’s Flower, is, perhaps, the most beautiful. Its blossoms are of so brilliant a scarlet, as to have reminded the originator of its name of the scarlet cloth of Rome, while its shape is not altogether dissimilar to the hat of the Romish dignitary. Alphonse Karr, remarking on the vivid hue of the Cardinal’s Flower, says that even the Verbena will pale before it.

CARLINE THISTLE.—The white and red Carline Thistles (Carlina vulgaris) derive their name from Charlemagne, regarding whom the legend relates that once—“a horrible pestilence broke out in his army, and carried off many thousand men, which greatly troubled the pious Emperor. Wherefore, he prayed earnestly to God; and in his sleep there appeared to him an angel, who shot an arrow from the cross-bow, telling him to mark the plant upon which it fell, for that with that plant he might cure his army of the pestilence. And so it really happened.” The plant upon which the arrow alighted was the Carline Thistle, and, as Gerarde tells us, Charlemagne’s army was, through the benefit of the root delivered and preserved from the plague.—The Carline Thistle is under the dominion of Mars.

CARNATION.—The Carnation (Dianthus caryophyllus) is generally supposed to have obtained its name from the flesh-colour of its flowers; but it was more correctly spelt by old writers, Coronation, as representing the Vetonica coronaria of the early herbalists, and so called from its flowers being used in the classic coronæ or chaplets. Thus Spenser, in his ‘Shepherd’s Calendar’ says: “Bring Coronations and Sops-in-wine, worn of paramours.” From Chaucer we learn that the flower was formerly called the Clove Gilliflower, and that it was cultivated in English gardens in Edward the Third’s reign. In those days, it was used to give a spicy flavour to wine and ale, and from hence obtained its name of Sop-in-wine:—

“Her springen herbes, grete and smale,
The Licoris and the Setewales,
And many a Clove Gilofre,
————to put in ale,
Whether it be moist or stale.”

The name Gilliflower (formerly spelt Gyllofer and Gilofre) is a corruption of the Latin Caryophyllum, a Clove (Greek, Karuophullon); and has reference to the spicy odour of the flower, which was used as a substitute for the costly Indian Cloves in flavouring dainty dishes as well as liquors. The Gilliflower was also thought to possess medicinal properties. Gerarde assures us, that “The conserve made of the flowers of the Clove Gilloflower and sugar is exceeding cordiall, and woonderfully above measure doth comfort the heart, being eaten now and then.” It was, also, thought good against pestilential fevers.——A red Carnation distinguishes several of the Italian painters. Benvenuto Tisio was called “Il Garofalo,” from his having painted a Gilliflower in the corner of his pictures.——The Carnation is under the dominion of Jupiter. (See also Gilliflower).

CAROB.—The Carob-tree, or St. John’s Bread (Ceratonia Siliqua) flourishes in the East, and in Palestine (to quote from Gerarde) there is “such plenty of it, that it is left unto swine and other wilde beasts to feed upon, as our Acorns and Beech-mast.” Hence it has long been supposed by many that the shells of the Carob-pod were the husks which the Prodigal Son was fain to feed upon, although they were what “the swine did eat; and no man gave unto him’ (Luke xv., 16).——In Germany, as in England, the Carob obtained the name of St. John’s Bread, from the popular belief that the Baptist fed upon it whilst in the wilderness. Gerarde says: “This is of some called Saint John’s Bread, and thought to be that which is translated Locusts, whereon Saint John did feed when he was in the wildernesse, besides the wilde honey whereof he did also eat; but there is small certainty of this; but it is most certain that the people of that country doe feed on these pods.” By others it has been supposed that the Locusts on which John the Baptist fed were the tender shoots of plants, and that the wild honey was the pulp in the pod of the Carob, whence it derived the name of St. John’s Bread.——According to a Sicilian tradition, the Carob is a tree of ill-repute, because it was on one of this species that the traitor Judas Iscariot hung himself.——In Syria and Asia Minor, the Carob, venerated alike by Christian and Mussulman, is dedicated to St. George, whose shrines are always erected beneath the shadow of its boughs.

CARROT.—The wild Carrot (Daucus Carota) is also called Bird’s-nest or Bee’s-nest, because, in its seeding state, the umbel resembles a nest.——In the reign of James the First, ladies adorned their head-dresses with Carrot-leaves, the light feathery verdure of which was considered a pleasing substitute for the plumage of birds.——The ancient Greeks called the Carrot Phileon, because of its connection with amatory affairs. We read in Gerarde in what this consisted. He remarks that the Carrot “serveth for love matters; and Orpheus, as Pliny writeth, said that the use hereof winneth love; which things be written of wilde Carrot, the root whereof is more effectual than that of the garden.” According to Galen, the root of the wild Carrot possessed the power of exciting the passions. The seed was administered to women under the belief that it induced and helped conception.——To dream of Carrots signifies profit and strength to them that are at law for an inheritance, for we pluck them out of the ground with our hand, branches, strings, and veins.——Carrots are held to be under Mercury.

CASHEW.—The nuts of the Cashew (Anacardium occidentale) are supposed by the Indians to excite the passions. The negroes of the West Indies say a branch of the Cashew-tree supplied the crown of Thorns used at our Saviour’s crucifixion, and that, in consequence, one of the bright golden petals of the flower became black and blood-stained.

CASSAVA.—The South American Cassava (Jatropha Manihot) is also known as the edible-rooted physic-nut, and in Brazil it bears the name of Mandioc. There are two kinds of Cassavas—the bitter and the sweet. From the roots of both bread is made, the tubers being first peeled and then ground into farina, and a poisonous juice expressed. Should this juice be drunk by cattle or poultry, they will become speedily much swollen, and die in convulsions; but if the same liquid is boiled with meat, and seasoned, it forms a favourite soup, called by the Brazilians Casserepo. The juice is used by the Indians for the poisoning of arrows: it is sometimes fermented, and converted into an intoxicating liquor in great favour with the Indians and negroes. Tapioca is a kind of starch prepared from the farina of Cassava roots.

CASSIA.—The Cassia mentioned by Moses in Exodus xxx., 24 (called in Hebrew Kidda, the bark), was a sweet spice commanded to be used in the composition of the holy oil employed in the consecration of the sacred vessels of the Tabernacle. It is supposed to have been the bark of an aromatic tree, known by the ancients as Costus, preparations of the bark and root of which were sometimes burnt on the pagan altars. There were three sorts of Costus—the Arabian, the Indian, and the Syrian; the root of the first of these was most esteemed for its aromatic properties: it had a fragrant smell similar to the perfume of Orris or Violets, and was called Costus dulcis or odoratus.

CASSIA-TREE.—The Cassia, or Senna-tree, belongs to a genus numerous in species, which are generally diffused in warm countries: among them is the Moon-tree of the Chinese, and this Cassia is considered by them to be the first of all medicaments. They have a saying, “The Cassia can be eaten, therefore it is cut down,” which probably explains their belief that in the middle of the Moon there grows a Cassia-tree, at the foot of which is a man who is endeavouring continually to fell it. This man is one Kang Wou, a native of Si-ho. Whilst under the tuition of a Geni, he committed a grave fault, for which he was condemned from henceforth to cut down the Cassia-tree. They call the Moon, therefore, the Kueïlan, or the disk of the Cassia. The Chinese give other reasons for associating the Cassia with the Moon. They say that it is the only tree producing flowers with four petals which are yellow—the colour of a metal, an element appertaining to the West, the region where the Moon appears to rise. Then the Cassia-flower opens in Autumn, a period when sacrifices are offered to the Moon; and it has, like the Moon, four phases of existence. During the seventh Moon (August) it blossoms. At the fourth Moon (May) its inflorescence ceases. During the fifth and sixth Moon (June and July) its buds are put forth, and after these have opened into leaf, the tree again bears flowers. Anglo-Indians call the Cassia Fistula, or Umultuss-tree, the Indian Laburnum: its long cylindrical pods are imported into England, and a sugary substance extracted from the pulp between the seeds is commonly used as a laxative. Gerarde says this pulp of Cassia Fistula, when extracted with Violet water, is a most sweet and pleasant medicine, and may be given without danger to all weak people of what age and sex soever. Lord Bacon writes in his Natural History:—“It is reported by one of the ancients, that Cassia, when it is gathered, is put into the skins of beasts, newly flayed, and that the skins corrupting, and breeding wormes, the wormes doe devoure the pith and marrow it, and so make of it hollow; but meddle not with the barke, because to them it is bitter.”

CATCH-FLY.—The Silene, or Catch-fly, received its English name from its glutinous stalk, from which flies, happening to light upon it, cannot disengage themselves. Gerarde gives the plant the additional name of Limewort, and adds, that in his time they were grown in London gardens, “rather for toies of pleasure than any virtues they are possessed with.”

CAT MINT.—Gerarde, probably copying from Dodoens, says of Cat Mint or Cat Nep, that “cats are very much delighted herewith, for the smell of it is so pleasant unto them, that they rub themselves upon it, and swallow or tumble in it, and also feed on the branches very greedily.” There is an old proverb respecting this herb—

“If you set it, the cats will eat it;
If you sow it, the cats won’t know it.”

According to Hoffman, the root of the Cat Mint, if chewed, will make the most gentle person fierce and quarrelsome; and there is a legend of a certain hangman who could never find courage to execute his task until he had chewed this aromatic root. Nep or Cat Mint is considered a herb of Venus.

CEDAR.—Numerous are the allusions made in the Bible to the Cedars of Lebanon (Cedrus Libani), the tree which Josephus says was first planted in Judea by Solomon, who greatly admired this noble tree, and built himself a palace of Cedar on Lebanon itself. The celebrated Temple of Solomon was built of hewn stone, lined with Cedar, which was “carved with knops and open flowers; all was Cedar, there was no stone seen.” Since King Solomon’s time, the Cedar forest of Lebanon has become terribly reduced, but Dr. Hooker, in 1860, counted some four hundred trees, and Mr. Tristram, a more recent traveller in the Holy Land, discovered a new locality in the mountains of Lebanon, where the Cedar was more abundant. Twelve of the oldest of these Cedars of Lebanon bear the title of “Friends of Solomon,” or the “Twelve Apostles.” The Arabs call all the older trees, saints, and believe an evil fate will overtake anyone who injures them. Every year, at the feast of the Transfiguration, the Maronites, Greeks, and Armenians go up to the Cedars, and celebrate mass on a rough stone altar at their feet.——The Cedar is made the emblem of the righteous in the 92nd Psalm, and is likened to the countenance of the Son of God in the inspired Canticles of Solomon. Ezekiel (xxxi., 3–9) compares the mighty King of Assyria to a Cedar in Lebanon, with fair branches, and says, as a proof of his greatness and power, that “the Cedars in the garden of God could not hide him.” In the Romish Church, the Cedar of Lebanon, because of its height, its incorruptible substance, and the healing virtues attributed to it in the East, is a symbol of the Virgin, expressing her greatness, her beauty, and her goodness.——The Jews evidently regarded the Cedar as a sacred tree: hence it was used in the making of idols. According to a very old tradition, the Cedar was the tree from which Adam obtained the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. The ancient legend relating how the Cross of Christ was formed of a tree combining in itself the wood of the Cypress, Cedar, and Pine, will be found under the heading Cypress. Another tradition states that of the three woods of which the Cross was composed, and which symbolised the three persons of the Holy Trinity, the Cedar symbolised God the Father.——Pythagoras recommended the Cedar, the Laurel, the Cypress, the Oak, and the Myrtle, as the woods most befitting to honour the Divinity.——The Shittim wood of the Scriptures is considered by some to have been a species of Cedar, of which the most precious utensils were made: hence the expression Cedro digna signified “worthy of eternity.”——The Cedar is the emblem of immortality.——The ancients called the Cedar “life from the dead,” because the perfume of its wood drove away the insects and never-dying worms of the tombs. According to Evelyn, in the temple of Apollo at Utica, there was found Cedar-wood nearly two thousand years old; “and in Sagunti, of Spain, a beam, in a certain oratory consecrated to Diana, which had been brought from Zant two hundred years before the destruction of Troy. The statue of that goddess in the famous Ephesian Temple was of this material also, as was most of the timber-work in all their sacred edifices.” In a temple at Rome there was a statue of Apollo Sosianus in Cedar-wood originally brought from Seleucia. Virgil states that Cedar-wood was considered to be so durable, that it was employed for making images of the gods, and that the effigies of the ancestors of Latinus were carved out of an old Cedar. He also informs us that Cedar-wood was used for fragrant torches.——Sesostris, King of Egypt, is reported to have built a ship of Cedar timber, which, according to Evelyn, was “of 280 cubits, all gilded without and within.”——Gerarde says that the Egyptians used Cedar for the coffins of their dead, and Cedar-pitch in the process of embalming the bodies.——The books of Numa, recovered in Rome after a lapse of 535 years, are stated to have been perfumed with Cedar.——The Chinese have a legend which tells how a husband and wife were transformed into two Cedars, in order that their mutual love might be perpetuated. A certain King Kang, in the time of the Soungs, had as secretary one Hanpang, whose young and beautiful wife Ho the King unfortunately coveted. Both husband and wife were tenderly attached to one another, so the King threw Hanpang into prison, where he shortly died of grief. His wife, to escape the odious attentions of the King, threw herself from the summit of a high terrace. After her death, a letter was discovered in her bosom, addressed to the King, in which she asked, as a last favour, to be buried beside her dear husband. The King, however, terribly angered, would not accede to poor Ho’s request, but ordered her to be interred separately. The will of heaven was not long being revealed. That same night two Cedars sprang from the two graves, and in ten days had become so tall and vigorous in their growth, that they were able to interlace their branches and roots, although separated from one another. The people henceforth called these Cedars “The trees of faithful love.”——Tchihatcheff, a Russian traveller, speaks of vast Cedar forests on Mount Taurus in Asia Minor: the tree was not introduced into England till about Evelyn’s time, nor into France till 1737, when Bernard de Jussieu brought over from the Holy Land a little seedling of the plant from the forests of Mount Lebanon. A romantic account is given of the difficulty this naturalist experienced in conveying it to France, owing to the tempestuous weather and contrary winds he experienced, which drove his vessel out of its course, and so prolonged the voyage, that the water began to fail. All on board were consequently put on short allowance; the crew having to work, being allowed one glass of water a day, the passenger only half that quantity. Jussieu, from his attachment to botany, was reduced to abridge even this small daily allowance, by sharing it with his cherished plant, and by this act of self-sacrifice succeeded in keeping it alive till they reached Marseilles. Here, however, all his pains seemed likely to be thrown away, for as he had been driven, by want of a flower-pot, to plant his seedling in his hat, he excited on landing the suspicions of the Custom-house officers, who at first insisted on emptying the strange pot, to see whether any contraband goods were concealed therein. With much difficulty he prevailed upon them to spare his treasure, and succeeded in carrying it in triumph to Paris, where it flourished in the Jardin des Plantes, and grew until it reached one hundred years of age, and eighty feet in height. In 1837 it was cut down, to make room for a railway.——According to the ancient Chaldean magicians, the Cedar is a tree of good omen—protecting the good and overthrowing the machinations of evil spirits.——M. Lenormant has published an Egyptian legend concerning the Cedar, which De Gubernatis has quoted. This legend recites that Batou having consented to incorporate his heart with the Cedar, if the tree were cut the life of Batou would at the same time be jeopardised; but if he died his brother would seek his heart for seven years, and when he had found it, he would place it in a vase filled with divine essence, which was to impart to it animation, and so restore Batou to life.... Anpou, in a fit of rage, one day enters Batou’s house, and slays the shameless woman who had separated him from his brother. Meanwhile Batou proceeds to the valley of Cedars, and places, as he had announced, his heart in the fruit of the tree at the foot of which he fixes his abode. The gods, not desiring to leave him solitary, create a woman, endowed with extraordinary beauty, but carrying evil with her. Falling madly in love with her, Batou reveals to the woman the secret of his life being bound up with that of the Cedar. Meantime the river becomes enamoured of Batou’s wife; the tree, to pacify it, gives it a lock of the beauty’s hair. The river continues its course, carrying on the surface of its waters the tress, which diffuses a delicious odour. It reaches at last the king’s laundress, who carries it to his majesty. At the mere sight and perfume of the tress, the king falls in love with the woman to whom it belongs. He sends men to the vale of Cedars to carry her off; but Batou kills them all. Then the king despatches an army, who at last bring him the woman whom the gods themselves had fashioned. But while Batou lives she cannot become the wife of the king; so she reveals to him the secret of her husband’s twofold life. Immediately workmen are despatched, who cut down the Cedar. Batou expires directly. Soon Anpou, who had come to visit his brother, finds him stretched out dead beside the felled Cedar. Instantly he sets out to search for Batou’s heart; but for four years his search is fruitless. At the end of that period the soul of Batou yearns to be resuscitated: the time has arrived when, in its transmigrations, it should rejoin his body. Anpou discovers the heart of his brother in one of the cones of the tree. Taking the vase which contains the sacred fluid, he places the heart in it; and, during the day, it remains unaffected, but so soon as night arrives, the heart becomes imbued with the elixir. Batou regains all his members; but he is without vigour. Then Anpou gives to him the sacred fluid in which he had steeped the heart of his young brother, and bids him drink. The heart returns to its place, and Batou becomes himself again. The two brothers set out to punish the unfaithful one. Batou takes the form of a sacred bull. Arrived at the Court, Batou, metamorphosed into the bull, is welcomed and fêted. Egypt has found a new god. During one of the festivals he takes the opportunity of whispering into the ear of her who had formerly been his wife: “Behold, I am again alive—I am Batou! You plotted and persuaded the king to fell the Cedar, so that he might occupy my place at your side when I was dead. Behold, I am again alive—I have taken the form of a bull!” The queen faints away at hearing these words; but speedily recovering herself, she seeks the king and asks him to grant her a favour—that of eating the bull’s liver. After some hesitation, the king consents, and orders that a sacrifice shall be offered to the bull, and that then he shall be killed; but at the moment the bull’s throat is cut, two drops of blood spirt out: one falls to the ground, and forthwith two grand Perseas (the Egyptians’ tree of life) shoot forth. The king, accompanied by his wife, hastens to inspect the new prodigy, and one of the trees whispers in the queen’s ear that he is Batou, once more transformed. The queen, relying on the doting affection which the king entertains for her, asks him to have this tree cut down for the sake of the excellent timber it will afford. The king consents, and she hastens to superintend the execution of his orders. A chip struck from the tree whilst being felled, falls into the mouth of the queen. Shortly she perceives that she has become enceinte. In due course she gives birth to a male infant. It is Batou, once more entering the world by a novel incarnation!”

CELANDINE.—The Great or Major Celandine (Chelidonium major) is also called Swallow-wort and Tetter-wort, and is thought to be efficacious in the cure of warts and cutaneous disorders. It derives its name from the Greek Chelidon, a swallow—not, says Gerarde, “because it first springeth at the coming in of the swallowes, or dieth when they go away, for as we have saide, it may be founde all the yeare, but because some holde opinion that with this herbe the dams restore sight to their young ones, when their eies be put out.” This magical property of the Celandine was first propounded by Aristotle, and afterwards repeated by Pliny, Dodoens, Albert le Grand, Macer, and most of the old botanical writers. Coles fully believed the wonderful fact, and remarks: “It is known to such as have skill of nature, what wonderful care she hath of the smallest creatures, giving to them a knowledge of medicine to help themselves, if haply diseases annoy them. The swallow cureth her dim eyes with Celandine; the wesell knoweth well the virtue of Herb Grace; the dove the Verven; the dogge dischargeth his mawe with a kinde of grasse,” &c. Lyte also, in his ‘Herbal,’ fully supported the ancient rustic belief that the old swallows used Celandine to restore sight to their young. He says the plant was called Swallow-herb, because “it was the first found out by swallowes, and hath healed the eyes and restored sight to their young ones that have had harme in their eyes or have been blinde.” Celandine has long been popular among village simplers as a remedy when diluted with milk against thick spots in the eye.——It is said that the lack of medical knowledge among the ancients induced the belief in the magical properties of Celandine. They saw in the Chelidonium a Cœli donum, and hence were anxious to endow it with celestial properties.——The red and violet Celandines, or Horned Poppies, are mentioned by Ben Jonson among the plants used by witches in their incantations.

The Lesser Celandine (Ranunculus Ficaria) is perhaps better known as the Pile-wort, a name given to it in allusion to the small tubers on the roots, which, on the doctrine of plant signatures, indicated that the plant was a remedial agent in this complaint.——Astrologers assign Celandine to the Sun, and the Pile-wort to Mars.

CENTAURY.—This flower, the well known Blue-bottle of the cornfields, is fabled to have derived its name from Chiron, a centaur, who is stated to have taught mankind the use of plants and medicinal herbs. According to Pliny, Chiron cured himself with this plant from a wound he had accidentally received from an arrow poisoned with the blood of the hydra. M. Barthelemy writes how, when Anacharsis visited the cave of Chiron, the centaur, on Mount Pelion, he was shown a plant which grew near it, of which he was informed that the leaves were good for the eyes, but that the secret of preparing them was in the hands of only one family, to whom it had been lineally transmitted from Chiron himself.——Mythology has another origin for the Centaurea Cyanus. According to this account, the flower was called Cyanus, after a youth so named, who was so enamoured of Corn-flowers, that his favourite occupation was that of making garlands of them; and he would scarcely ever leave the fields, whilst his favourite blue flowers continued to bloom. So devoted was his admiration, that he always dressed himself in clothes of the same brilliant hue as the flower he loved best. Flora was his goddess, and of all the varied gifts, her Corn-flower was the one he most appreciated. At length he was one day found lying dead in a cornfield, surrounded with the blue Corn-flowers he had gathered: and soon after the catastrophe, the goddess Flora, out of gratitude for the veneration he had for her divinity, transformed his body into the Centaurea Cyanus, the Blue-bottle of English cornfields.——In Lucan’s ‘Pharsalia,’ the Centaury is one of the plants named as being burned with the object of driving away serpents.

“Beyond the farthest tents rich fires they build,
That healthy medicinal odours yield:
There foreign Galbanum dissolving fries,
And crackling flames from humble Wallwort rise;
There Tamarisk, which no green leaf adorns,
And there the spicy Syrian Costos burns:
There Centaury supplies the wholesome flame,
That from Thessalian Chiron takes its name;
The gummy Larch-tree, and the Thapsos there,
Woundwort and Maidenweed perfume the air:
There the long branches of the long-lived Hart,
With Southernwood their odours strong impart,
The monsters of the land, the serpents fell,
Fly far away, and shun the hostile swell.”

The Corn-flower is called in Russia Basilek (the flower of Basil), and attached to it is a legend that a handsome young man of this name was enticed away by a nymph named Russalka, allured into the fields, and transformed into the Corn-flower.——Plants have always been a favourite means of testing the faith of lovers; and the Centaury or Bluet of the cornfields was the flower selected by Margaret as the floral oracle from which to learn the truth respecting Faust.

“There is a flower, a purple flower,
Sown by the wind, nursed by the shower,
O’er which love breathed a powerful spell,
The truth of whispering hope to tell.
Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tell,
If my lover loves me, and loves me well:
So may the fall of the morning dew
Keep the sun from fading thy tender blue.”

The Centaury is known as the Hurt-sickle, because it turns the edges of the reapers’ sickles: its other familiar names are Blue-bottle, Blue-blow, Bluet, and Corn-flower.——It is held by astrologers to be under Saturn.

CEREUS.—The crimson-flowered Cereus (Cereus speciosissimus), belonging to the natural order Cactaceæ, is generally known in England as the Torch Thistle, and is fabled to have been the torch borne by Ceres in the daytime. Cereus flagelliformis is the pink-flowered creeping Cereus, the long round stems of which hang down like cords. Cereus grandiflorus is the night-blowing Cereus, which begins to open its sweet-scented flowers about eight o’clock in the evening; they are fully blown by eleven, and by four o’clock next morning they are faded and droop quite decayed. The Old Man’s Head, or Monkey Cactus, Cereus senilis, is another member of this family.

CHAMELÆA.—The Spurge-Olive or Chamelæa (Cneorum tricoccum) is a humble shrub, whose three-leaved pale-yellow flowers were consecrated to the god Janus. The month of January, placed under the protection of Janus, was represented in the guise of an old man, who held in his hand a flower of the Chamelæa. After flowering, the shrub produces three-cornered berries, which are at first green, then red, and finally brown. The plant in England was formerly called the Widow-wail, for what reason we know not, but Gerarde says, “quia facit viduas.”

CHAMOMILE.—According to Galen, the Egyptians held the Chamomile (Anthemis nobilis) in such reverence, that they consecrated it to their deities: they had great faith in the plant as a remedy for agues. Gerarde tells us that Chamomile is a special help against wearisomeness, and that it derives its name from the Greek Chamaimelon, Earth-Apple, because the flowers have the smell of an Apple.——In Germany, Chamomile-flowers are called Heermännchen, and they are traditionally supposed to have once been soldiers, who for their sins died accursed.——The Romans supposed the Anthemis to be possessed of properties to cure the bites of serpents.——Chamomile is considered to be a herb of the Sun.

CHAMPAK.—The Champa or Champak (Michelia Champaca) is one of the sacred plants of India. The blue Champak-flower is of the greatest rarity, and is regarded as being the principal ornament of Brahma’s heaven. It is, in fact,

“That blue flower which Brahmins say
Blooms nowhere but in Paradise,”

for the earthly sort has yellow blossoms with which the Hindu maidens are fond of ornamenting their raven hair. The tree is sacred to Vishnu, and is, therefore, an object of reverential regard on the part of the Hindus, who cultivate it for the fragrance of its flowers, which is so strong that the bees, fearful of being overcome, will scarcely ever alight upon them. The Hindus apply to the Champak-flowers the most flattering appellations, which celebrate its wondrous delicacy and form, its glittering golden hue, and its voluptuous perfume.

CHERRY.—About the year 70 B.C., Lucullus, after his victory over Mithridates, brought from Cerasus, in Pontus, the Cherry-tree, and introduced it into Italy. It was planted in Britain a century later, but the cultivated sorts disappeared during the Saxon period. “Cherries on the ryse,” or on the twigs, was, however, one of the street cries of London in the fifteenth century. These Cherries were, perhaps, the fruit of the native wild Cherry, or Gean-tree, as the cultivated Cherry was not re-introduced till the reign of Henry VIII., whose fruiterer brought it from Flanders, and planted a Cherry orchard at Teynham.——An ancient legend records that, before the birth of our Saviour, the Virgin Mary longed extremely to taste of some tempting Cherries which hung upon a tree high above her head; so she requested Joseph to pluck them. Joseph, however, not caring to take the trouble, refused to gather the Cherries, saying sullenly, “Let the father of thy child present thee with the Cherries if he will!” No sooner had these words escaped his lips, than, as if in reproof, the branch of the Cherry-tree bowed spontaneously to the Virgin’s hand, and she gathered its fruit and ate it. Hence the Cherry is dedicated to the Virgin Mary. There is a tradition that our Saviour gave a Cherry to St. Peter, cautioning him at the same time not to despise little things.——The ancient Lithuanians believed that the demon Kirnis was the guardian of the Cherry. In Germany and Denmark there is a tradition that evil spirits often hide themselves in old Cherry-trees, and delight in doing harm to anyone who approaches them. The Albanians burn branches of the Cherry-tree on the nights of the 23rd and 24th of December, and the nights of the 1st and 6th of January—that is to say on the three nights consecrated to the new sun; and they preserve the ashes of these branches to fertilise their Vines. They say that in so doing they burn the evil spirits hidden in the trees, who are destructive to vegetation.——At Hamburg, there is an annual festival called the Feast of the Cherries, when children parade the streets, carrying boughs laden with the fruit. This observance dates from the year 1432, when the Hussites threatened the immediate destruction of Hamburg. The inhabitants, in despair, dressed all the children in black, and despatched them to the Hussite leader, P. Rasus, to plead with him. The warrior, touched at the sight of so many little helpless ones, promised that he would spare the city, and after feasting the children with Cherries, sent them back rejoicing and waving in their hands the Cherry-boughs.——There is an old proverb current in Germany, France, and Italy, that you should never eat Cherries with the rich, because they always choose the ripest, or, even worse, eat the luscious fruit, and throw the stones and stalks to their companions.——The gum which exudes from the Cherry-tree is considered equal in value to gum-arabic. Hasselquist relates that during a siege upwards of one hundred men were kept alive for nearly two months, without any other nutriment than that obtained by sucking this gum.——The Cherry is held by astrologers to be under the dominion of Venus.——To dream of Cherries denotes inconstancy and disappointment in life.

CHESNUT.—The Chesnut (Fagus Castanea) was classed by Pliny among the fruit trees, on account of the value of the nut as an article of food. He states that the tree was introduced from Sardis in Pontus, and hence was called the Sardian Acorn. The Chesnuts of Asia Minor supplied Xenophon’s whole army with food in their retreat along the borders of the Euxine. Once planted in Europe, the Chesnut soon spread all over the warm parts. It flourished in the mountains of Calabria, and is the tree with which Salvator Rosa delighted to adorn his bold and rugged landscapes.——The Castagno dei cento cavalli (Chesnut of the hundred horses) upon Mount Etna is probably the largest tree in Europe, being more than 200 feet in circumference.——Chesnuts are included in the list of funereal trees. In Tuscany, the fruit is eaten with solemnity on St. Simon’s Day. In Piedmont, they constitute the appointed food on the eve of All Souls’ Day, and in some houses they are left on the table under the belief that the dead poor will come during the night and feast on them. In Venice, it is customary to eat Chesnuts on St. Martin’s Day, and the poor women assemble beneath the windows and sing a long ballad, or, after expressing their good wishes towards the inmates of the house, ask for Chesnuts to appease their hunger. (See also Horse-Chesnut.)

CHOHOBBA.—The Mexicans regard with peculiar sanctity and reverence a herb which grows in their country, and which they call Chohobba. If they wish an abundant crop of Yucca or Maize, if they wish to know whether a sick chief will recover or die, if they desire to learn whether a war is likely to occur, or, in fact, if they desire any important information, one of their chiefs enters the building consecrated to their idols, where he prepares a liquid obtained from the herb Chohobba, which can be absorbed through the nose: this fluid has an intoxicating effect, and he soon loses all control over himself. After awhile, he partly recovers, and sits himself on the ground, with head abased, and hands beneath his knees, and so remains for some little time. Then he raises his eyes, as if awaking from a long sleep, and gazes upwards at the sky, at the same time muttering between his teeth some unintelligible words. No one but his relatives approaches the chief, for the people are not allowed to assist at the rite. When the relatives perceive that the chief is beginning to regain consciousness, they return thanks to the god for his recovery, and ask that he may be permitted to tell them what he has seen whilst in his trance. Then the half-dazed chief relates what the god has told him regarding the particular matters he had wished to enquire about.

CHOKE PEAR.—The fruit of the Wild Pear, Pyrus communis, is so hard and austere as to choke: hence the tree has been called the Choke Pear. It is supposed to have been a Pear of this description that caused the death of Drusus, a son of the Emperor Claudius. He caught in his mouth, and swallowed, a Pear thrown into the air, but owing to its extreme hardness, it stuck in his throat and choked him.

Christmas Rose.—See Hellebore.

CHRIST’S HERB.—The Black Hellebore is called Christ’s Herb or Christmas Herb (Christwurz), says Gerarde, “because it floureth about the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (See Hellebore.)

CHRIST’S LADDER.—In the fourteenth century, the Erythræa Centaurium was called Christ’s Ladder (Christi scala), from the name having been mistaken for Christ’s Cup (Christi schale), in allusion to the bitter draught offered to our Lord upon the Cross.

CHRIST’S PALM.—The Ricinus communis is commonly known as Palma Christi, or Christ’s Palm. The same plant is also reputed to have been Jonah’s Gourd.

CHRIST’S THORN.—Gerarde, in his Herbal, calls the Paliurus, Christ’s Thorn or Ram of Libya; and he writes: “Petrus Bellonius, who travelled over the Holy Land, saith, that this shrubby Thorne Paliurus, was the Thorne wherewith they crowned our Saviour Christ, his reason for the proofe hereof is this, That in Judea, there was not any Thorne so common, so pliant, or so fit for to make a crown or garland of, nor any so full of cruell sharpe prickles. It groweth throughout the whole countrey in such abundance, that it is there common fuell to burn; yea, so common with them there as our Gorse, Brakes, and Broome is here with us. Josephus (lib. 1, cap. 2 of his Antiquities) saith, That this Thorne hath the most sharp prickles of any other; wherefore that Christ might bee the more tormented, the Jews rather tooke this than any other.” The shrub still abounds in Judea, and has pliable branches armed with sharp spines. (See Thorn.)

CHRYSANTHEMUM.—The leaf and flower of the Chrysanthemum Indicum were long ago adopted as, and are still, the special emblem and blazon of Mikados of Japan. One of the most popular of the Japanese festivals is that held in honour of the golden Chrysanthemum, or Kiku. The Japanese florists display their Chrysanthemums built up into the forms of their gods or heroes; thus, in their exhibitions, are to be seen effigies of Benkei, the Hercules of Japan, gorgeously apparelled in white, purple, and yellow Pompons; the Sun Goddess, decked in golden blooms; Jimmu Tenno, a popular hero, and endless groups of gods and goddesses, and mythological heroes and heroines.——The Chrysanthemum was first introduced into England in 1764 by Miller, who received a Kok fa, or Chrysanthemum Indicum from Nîmpu, and cultivated it at the botanical garden at Chelsea. In the seventeenth century a Chrysanthemum was grown in Dantsic.——Three Chrysanthemums (the Corn Marigold, the Ox-eyed Daisy, and the Fever-few) are natives of England, but as they bloom in summer when flowers are plentiful, and not in November, as our garden varieties do, it has not been so well worth while to bestow care in raising and improving them. The Autumn Chrysanthemums are descended from either the Chinese or the Indian varieties, the former of which have white flowers and the latter yellow. The Pompon varieties are derived from the Chusan Daisy, introduced into England from China by Mr. Fortune in 1846. In their wild state they are all, indeed, even the Japanese forms of the Chinese flowers, much like Daisies, with a yellow disc surrounded by rays of florets, but by cultivation the disc-florets are assimilated to those of the ray, and the flower assumes a homogeneous appearance only faintly suffused with yellow towards the centre.

CINCHONA.—The Cinchona, or Jesuit’s Bark-tree (Cinchona officinalis), is a native of Peru. The famous bark was introduced into Europe through the medium of Ana de Osorio, Countess Cinchon, and Vice-Queen of Peru, after whom the powdered bark was called “Countess’s Powder.” The use of the bark was first learned from the following circumstances:—Some Cinchona-trees being thrown by the winds into a pool, lay there until the water became so bitter that everyone refused to drink it, till one of the inhabitants of the district being seized with violent fever, and finding no water wherewith to quench his thirst, was forced to drink of this, by which means he became perfectly cured; and afterwards, relating his cure to others, they made use of the same remedy.

CINNAMON.—Bacon, in his ‘Natural History,’ speaks thus of the Cinnamon (Laurus Cinnamomum):—“The ancient Cinnamon was of all other plants, while it grew, the dryest; and those things which are knowne to comfort other plants did make that more sterill: for, in showers, it prospered worst: it grew also amongst bushes of other kindes, where commonly plants doe not thrive; neither did it love the Sunne.” Solomon, in his Canticles, mentions Cinnamon among the precious spices; and Moses was commanded to use “sweet Cinnamon” in the preparation of the holy oil used to anoint the Tabernacle and the sacred vessels, and to consecrate Aaron and his sons to the priesthood. The Emperor Vespasian was the first to take chaplets of Cinnamon to Rome, wherewith to decorate the temples of the Capitol and of Peace. It is related, that Alexander the Great, whilst at sea, perceived he was near the coast of Arabia, from the scent of Cinnamon wafted from the still distant shore.——The Mahometans of India used to have a curious belief that the Cinnamon-tree is the bark, the Clove the flower, and the Nutmeg the fruit, of one and the same tree; and most of the writers of the Middle Ages thought that Cinnamon, Ginger, Cloves, and Nutmegs were the produce of one tree.——Gerarde tells us, that there was formerly much controversy concerning the true Cinnamon and Cassia of the ancients, but he considered the tree whose bark is Cassia to be a bastard kind of Cinnamon. The Cinnamon, he says, has pleasant leaves and fair white flowers, which turn into round black berries, the size of an Olive, “out of which is pressed an oile that hath no smell at all untill it be rubbed and chafed between the hands: the trunk or body, with the greater arms or boughs of the tree, are covered with a double or twofold barke, like that of the Corke-tree, the innermost whereof is the true and pleasant Cinnamon, which is taken from this tree and cast upon the ground in the heate of the sun, through whose heate it turneth and foldeth itselfe round together.” The tree thus peeled, recovered itself in three years, and was then ready to be disbarked again.——Tradition states that the ancient Arabian priests alone possessed the right of collecting the Cinnamon. The most patriarchal of them would then divide the precious bark, reserving the first bundle for the Sun. After the division had taken place, the priests left to the Sun itself the task of lighting the sacred fire on the altar where the high priest was to offer a sacrifice.——Theophrastus narrates that the Cinnamon flourished in the valleys frequented by venomous serpents; and that those who repaired thither to collect it were compelled to wear bandages on their hands and feet. After the Cinnamon was collected, it was divided into three portions, of which one was reserved for the Sun, which, with glowing rays, quickly came and carried it off.——Herodotus says, that Cinnamon was gathered from the nest of the Phœnix.——An old writer affirms that the distilled water of the flowers of the Cinnamon-tree excelled far in sweetness all the waters whatsoever. The leaves yield oil of Cloves; the fruit also yields an oil, which was formerly, in Ceylon, made into candles, for the sole use of the king; the root exudes an abundance of Camphor; and the bark of the root affords oil of Camphor, as well as a particularly pure species of Camphor.

CINQUEFOIL.—In former days, Cinquefoil (Potentilla) much prevailed as an heraldic device; the number of the leaves answering to the five senses of man. The right to bear Cinquefoil was considered an honourable distinction to him who had worthily conquered his affections and mastered his senses. In wet weather the leaves of the Cinquefoil contract and bend over the flower, forming, as it were, a little tent to cover it—an apt emblem of an affectionate mother protecting her child. Cinquefoil was formerly believed to be a cure for agues; four branches being prescribed for a quartan, three for a tertian, and one for a quotidian.——Cinquefoil is deemed a herb of Jupiter.

CISTUS.—The Cistus, according to Cassianus Bassus, derives its name from a Grecian youth named Kistos. Under this title is embraced a most extensive genus of plants celebrated all over the world for their beauty and fragility. Gerarde and Parkinson call them Holly Roses, a name which has become changed into Rock Roses.——From the Cistus Creticus (frequently called the Ladaniferous Cistus) is obtained the balsam called Ladanum, a kind of resin, prized for its tonic and stomachic properties, but more highly valued as a perfume, and extensively used in oriental countries in fumigations. This resin, which is secreted from the leaves and other parts of the shrub, is collected by means of a kind of rake, to which numerous leather thongs are appended instead of teeth. In olden times this resin was believed to have been gathered from the shrubs by goats who rubbed their beards against the leaves, and so collected the liquid gum; but Gerarde affirms this to have been a monkish tradition—a fable of the “Calohieros, that is to say, Greekish monkes, who, of very mockery, have foisted that fable among others extant in their workes.” Be this as it may, Bacon records the fact in his ‘Natural History,’ remarking: “There are some teares of trees, which are kembed from the beards of goats; for when the goats bite and crop them, especially in the morning, the dew being on, the teare cometh forth, and hangeth upon their beards: of this sort is some kinde of Ladanum.”

CITRON.—A native of all the warm regions of Asia, the Citron was introduced into Europe from Media, and hence obtained the name of Malus Medica. During the feast of the Tabernacles, the Jews in their synagogues carry a Citron in their left hand; and a conserve made of a particular variety of the fruit is in great demand by the Jews, who use it during the same feast. According to Athenæus, certain notorious criminals, who had been condemned to be destroyed by serpents, were miraculously preserved, and kept in health and safety by eating Citrons. Theophrastus says that Citrons were considered an antidote to poisons, for which purpose Virgil recommended them in his Georgics. Gerarde thus translates the passage:—

“The countrey Media beareth juices sad,
And dulling tastes of happy Citron fruit,
Than which no helpe more present can be had,
If any time stepmothers, worse than brute,
Have poyson’d pots, and mingled herbs of sute
With hurtful charmes: this Citron fruit doth chase
Black venome from the body in every place.
The tree itselfe in growth is large and big,
And very like in show to th’ Laurell-tree;
And would be thought a Laurell leafe and twig,
But that the smell it casts doth disagree:
The floure it holds as fast as floure may be:
Therewith the Medes a remedie do finde
For stinking breaths and mouthes, a cure most kinde,
And helpe old men which hardly fetch their winde.”

Della Valle, an Italian traveller of the seventeenth century, relates how, at Ikkeri, he saw an Indian widow, on her way to the funeral pyre, riding on horseback through the town, holding in one hand a mirror, in the other a Citron, and whilst gazing into the mirror she uttered loud lamentations. De Gubernatis thinks that perhaps the Citron was the symbol of the life become bitter since the death of her husband.——Rapin recommends the Citron for heart affections:—

“Into an oval form the Citrons rolled
Beneath thick coats their juicy pulp unfold:
From some the palate feels a poignant smart,
Which though they wound the tongue, yet heal the heart.”

CLAPPEDEPOUCH.—The Capsella Bursa pastoris, or Shepherd’s Purse, was so called from the resemblance of its numerous flat seed-pouches to a common leather purse. Dr. Prior says that the Irish name of Clappedepouch was applied to the plant in allusion to the licensed begging of lepers, who stood at the crossways with a bell and a clapper. Hoffmann von Fallersleben, in his Niederländische Volkslieder, says of them: “Separated from all the world, without house or home, the lepers were obliged to dwell in a solitary, wretched hut by the roadside; their clothing so scanty that they often had nothing to wear but a hat and a cloak, and a begging wallet. They would call the attention of the passers-by with a bell or a clapper, and received their alms in a cup or a bason at the end of a long pole. The bell was usually of brass. The clapper is described as an instrument made of two or three boards, by rattling which they excited people to relieve them.” The lepers, Dr. Prior thinks, would get the name of Rattle-pouches, and this be extended to the plant, in allusion to the little purses which it hangs out by the wayside. The plant was also known by the names of Poor Man’s Parmacetie, and St. James’s Weed—the former in allusion to its medicinal virtues. (See Shepherd’s Purse). It is considered a herb of Saturn.

CLEMATIS.—The Clematis vitalba, Gerarde informs us, was called Travellers’ Joy, “as decking and adorning waies and hedges when people travell.” It was also termed “Old Man’s Beard,” from the hoary appearance of its seeds; and Virgin’s Bower, out of compliment to Queen Elizabeth, and in allusion to its climbing habits. It became the emblem of Artifice because beggars, in order to excite compassion, were in the habit of making false ulcers in their flesh by means of its twigs, the result often being a real sore.——The Clematis flammula, or upright Virgin’s Bower, is an acrid plant, that inflames the skin. Miller says of it that if one leaf be cropped in a hot day in the summer season, and bruised, and presently put to the nostrils, it will cause a smell and pain like a flame.——Clematis integrifolia, or Hungarian Climber, is known in Little Russia as Tziganka (the Gipsy Plant). Prof. De Gubernatis has given in his Mythologie des Plantes the following legend connected with this plant:—The Cossacks were once at war with the Tartars. The latter having obtained the advantage, the Cossacks commenced to retreat. The Cossack hetman, indignant at the sight, struck his forehead with the handle of his lance. Instantly there arose a tempest, which whirled away the Cossack traitors and fugitives into the air, pounded them into a thousand fragments, and mingled their dust with the earth of the Tartars. From that earth springs the plant Tziganka. But the souls of the Cossacks, tormented by the thought of their bones being mixed with the accursed earth of the stranger, prayed to God that he would vouchsafe to disseminate it in the Ukraine, where the maidens were wont to pluck Clematis integrifolia to weave into garlands. God hearkened to their Christian prayers, and granted their patriotic desires. It is an old belief in Little Russia that if everybody would suspend Briony from his waistbelt behind, these unfortunate Cossacks would come to life again.

CLOVE.—The aromatic Clove-tree (Caryophyllatus aromaticus) is a native of the Moluccas, where its cultivation is carefully guarded by the Dutch. The islanders wear its white flowers as a mark of distinction. These flowers grow in bunches at the end of the branches, and are succeeded by oval berries, which are crowned with the calyx. It is these berries, beaten from the trees before they are half grown, and allowed to dry in the sun, which are the Cloves of commerce. The Clove is considered to be one of the hottest and most acrid of aromatics; its pungent oil (which is specifically heavier than water) has been administered in paralytic cases. Gerarde says, that the Portuguese women, resident in the East Indies, distilled from the Cloves, when still green, a certain liquor “of a most fragrant smell, which comforteth the heart, and is of all cordials the most effectual.”——There is an old superstition, still extant, that children can be preserved from evil influences and infantile disorders, by having a necklace of Cloves suspended as an amulet round the neck.

CLOVER.—The old English names for Clover were Trefoil and Honey-suckles.——The word Clover is derived from the Anglo-Saxon Clœfre. The club of Hercules was called by the Latins clava trinodis; and the “club” of our playing cards is so named from its resemblance to a Clover-leaf—a leaf with three leaflets (tria folia). Hence the herb’s generic name of Trifolium, or Trefoil.——Hope was depicted by the ancients as a little child standing on tiptoe, and holding a Clover-flower in his hand. Summer is also represented with the Trefoil.——In the Christian Church, the Trefoil is held to be the symbol of the Trinity; hence Clover is used for decorations on Trinity Sunday. It is often employed as an architectural emblem: the limbs of crosses are sometimes made to end in Trefoils, and church windows are frequently in the same form.——Clover possesses the power of vegetating after having existed in a dormant state for many years. If lime is powdered and thrown upon the soil, a crop of white Clover will sometimes arise where it had never been known to exist; this spontaneous coming-up of the flower is deemed an infallible indication of good soil.——Clover-grass is reputed always to feel rough to the touch when stormy weather is at hand; and its leaves are said to start and rise up, as if it were afraid of an assault.——The Druids held the Clover, or Trefoil, in great repute, and it is believed that they considered it a charm against evil spirits. Formerly the Clover was thought to be not only good for cattle, but noisome to witches, and so “the holy Trefoil’s charm,” was very generally prized as a protective.——A sprig of Clover with only two leaves on it is employed by the lads and lasses of Cambridgeshire, Norfolk, and Suffolk, as a charm to enable them to ascertain the names of their future wives and husbands:—

“A Clover, a Clover of two,
Put it on your right shoe;
The first young man [or woman] you meet,
In field street, or lane,
You’ll have him [or her] or one of his [or her] name.”

Gerarde says that the meadow Trefoil (especially that with the black half-moon upon the leaf), pounded with a little honey, “takes away the pin and web in the eies, ceasing the pain and inflammation thereof if it be strained and dropped therein.” The finding of a four-leaved Clover is considered especially fortunate, not only in England, but in France, Switzerland, and Italy. It is believed to almost ensure happiness, and in the case of young girls a husband very speedily. There is old couplet which records that—

“If you find an even Ash-leaf or a four-leaved Clover,
You’ll be bound to see your true love ere the day be over.”

In Scotland, the possessor of a piece of four-bladed Clover is reputed to have a prescience when witchcraft is attempted to be practised upon him; and in the North of England this lucky leaf is placed in dairies and stables, to preserve them from the spells of witches.——There is a Cornish fairy tale which is intimately associated with the four-leaved Clover:—One evening a maiden set out to milk the cows later than usual: indeed, the stars had begun to shine before she completed her task. “Daisy” (an enchanted cow), was the last to be milked, and the pail was so full that the milk-maid could hardly lift it to her head. So to relieve herself, she gathered some handfuls of Grass and Clover, and spread it on her head in order to carry the milk-pail more easily. But no sooner had the Clover touched her head, than suddenly hundreds of little people appeared surrounding Daisy, dipping their tiny hands into the milk, and gathering it with Clover-flowers, which they sucked with gusto. Daisy was standing in the long Grass and Clover, so some of these little creatures climbed up the stalks and held out Buttercups, Convolvuluses, and Foxgloves, to catch the milk which dropped from the cow’s udder. When the astonished milk-maid, upon reaching home, recounted her wonderful experiences to her mistress, the goodwife at once cried out: “Ah! you put a four-leaved Clover on your head.”——To dream of seeing a field of Clover is of happy augury, indicating health, prosperity, and much happiness. To the lover it foretells success, and that his intended wife will have great wealth.——Clover is under the dominion of Venus.

CLUB-MOSS.—The Stag’s-horn, Fox’s-tail, or Club-Moss (Lycopodium clavatum), is used in the North of England, Sweden, and Germany, in wreaths worn on festive occasions. The powder or dust which issues from its spore cases, is highly inflammable, and is collected for fireworks and for producing stage lightning. It is the Blitz-mehl, or lightning-meal of the Germans. The Fir Club-Moss (L. Selago) is made by the Highlanders into an eye ointment. In Cornwall, the Club-Moss is considered good against all diseases of the eyes, provided only it is gathered in the following manner:—On the third day of the moon, when it is seen for the first time, show it the knife with which the Moss is to be cut, repeating the while—

“As Christ healed the issue of blood,
Do thou cut what thou cuttest for good.”

Then, at sundown, the Club-Moss may be cut by the operator kneeling, and with carefully washed hands. The Moss is to be tenderly wrapped in a fair white cloth, and afterwards boiled in water procured from the spring nearest the spot where it grew. The liquor is to be applied as a fomentation. The Club-Moss may also be made into an ointment, with butter made from the milk of a new cow. These superstitious customs have probably a Druidic origin, and tend to identify the Selago or Golden Herb of the Druids with the Club-Moss, as the Selago was held sacred by them, and gathered with many mystic observances. (See Selago.)——In many parts of Germany, certain Fairy-folk, called Moss-women, are popularly believed to frequent the forests. In Thuringia, these little women of the wood are called Holzfrala, and in one of the legends of the Fichtelgebirge (a mountain-chain near the junction of Saxony, Bavaria, and Bohemia), we find it stated that there was a poor child whose mother lay sick of a fever. Going into the forest to gather Strawberries, the child saw a little woman entirely clothed with golden Moss—presumably Selago. The Moss-woman asked the child for some of the fruit, and her request having been readily acceded to, the Moss-woman ate her Strawberries and tripped away. When the child reached home, she found the fruit which she had carried in a jug was transformed to gold. The Moss dress of the little woman is described as being of a golden colour, which shone, when seen at a distance, like pure gold, but on close inspection lost all its lustre. It is thought that many of the stories about hidden treasure which are rife on the Fichtelgebirge are to be attributed to the presence there of this curious species of vegetation.

COCOA-NUT PALM.—The Cocos Nucifera (Sanscrit Nârikera), or Cocoa-Nut Palm is the most extensively-cultivated tree in the world, and its importance to myriads of the human race is almost beyond conception. George Herbert wrote truly of this Palm:—

“The Indian Nut alone
Is clothing, meat and trencher, drink and can,
Boat, cable, sail, mast, needle, all in one.”

A vigorous tree will grow one hundred feet high, and produce annually one hundred Nuts.——The Chinese call the Cocoa-Nut Yüe-wang-t’ou (head of Prince of Yüe) from a tradition that a certain Prince Lin-yi, who was at enmity with the Prince of Yüe, sent an assassin to cut off the head of his enemy. The deed was executed, and the severed head being caught in the branches of a Palm, it remained suspended there, and was transformed into a Cocoa-Nut, with two eyes in its shell.——The Portuguese are said to have given the name of Coco to the Nut because at one end of the Nut are three holes, resembling the head of a cat when mewing (Coca).——The Indians, when unable to recover the corpse of one of their people who has been slain, but whom they wish to honour, form an effigy of Reeds, and surmount it with a Cocoa-Nut, which is supposed to represent the head of the deceased. This sham corpse they cover with Dhak wood, after which they offer up prayers, and then burn it. The Cocoa-Nut is regarded by the natives of India as an oracle in cases of sickness. Thus, if an Indian has fallen ill, they spin a Cocoa-Nut on its end; if the Nut falls towards the west, he will die; if to the east, he will recover. The Deccan Indians never commence any building without first offering Cocoa-Nuts to their gods.——When a Fijian child is sick, and its friends want to know if it will live or die, they shake a bunch of dry Cocoa-Nuts: if all fall off, the little one will recover; if one remains, it will die. The Fijians also spin Cocoa-Nuts, and then prophecy of future events according to the direction in which the eye of the Nut lies when it rests still.

COCKLE.—The Corn Cockle, or Gith (Agrostemma Githago) is a troublesome weed, of which Gerarde says: “What hurt it doth among Corne, the spoile of bread, as well as in colour, taste, and unwholesomenesse, is better knowne than desired.” In the Book of Job, the Cockle coming up instead of the Barley is spoken of as a great misfortune; but it could not have been the Corn Cockle, which is unknown in Palestine and Arabia.——The plant is alluded to in an old English nursery rhyme, in which a garden allowed to run wild is said to be

> “Full of weeds and Cockle seeds.”

COFFEE.—The Coffee-plant (Coffea Arabica) derives its name from the Kingdom of Caffa, in Africa, where it grows abundantly. The bloom of this tree is similar to the Jasmine in figure and fragrance, while its fruit has the appearance of a Cherry; the liquor prepared from the fruit or berry is said to have been drunk, in Ethiopia, from time immemorial. The Galla, a wandering nation of Africa, in their incursions in Abyssinia, being obliged to traverse immense deserts, and to travel swiftly, were accustomed to carry nothing with them to eat but Coffee roasted till it could be pulverised, and then mixed with butter into balls, and put into a leather bag. One of these, the size of a billiard ball, was said to keep them in strength and spirits during a whole day’s fatigue, better than bread or meat.——To dream of drinking coffee is a favourable omen, betokening riches and honour. To the lover it foretells a happy marriage.

COLCHICUM.—The Meadow Saffron, or Colchicum, derives its name from Colchis, a country on the eastern shore of the Euxine, where it once grew in such abundance as to have led Horace thus to allude to it:—

“Or tempered every baleful juice
Which poisonous Colchian glebes produce.”

Colchicum was one of the herbs highly prized and made use of by the enchantress Medea. It is poisonous, and, according to Dioscorides, kills by choking, as do poisonous Mushrooms. Gerarde recommends anyone who has eaten Colchicum, to “drinke the milke of a cow, or else death presently ensueth.”——Colchicum is a herb of the Sun.

COLTSFOOT.—The shape of its leaves has given the Tussilago Farfara its English name of Colt’s-foot, although, as Gerarde points out, it might more appropriately be termed Cough-wort. The plant has its Latin name from tussis, a cough, and for many centuries has been used in pulmonary complaints. It formed the basis of Coltsfoot lozenges, long celebrated as a cure for coughs.——The Bavarian peasants make garlands of the sweet-scented Colt’s-foot on Easter Day, and cast them into the fire.——Colt’s-foot, or Foal’s-foot, is a herb of Venus.

COLUMBINE.—The English name of the Aquilegia is derived from the Latin columba, a pigeon, from the resemblance of its nectaries to the heads of pigeons in a ring round a dish, a favourite device of ancient artists. The generic name comes from aquila, an eagle, from the fancied resemblance of the same parts of the flower to the claw of the king of birds.——The plant was formerly sometimes called Herba leonis, from a belief that it was the favourite herb of the lion.——The Columbine is held to be under the dominion of Venus.

CONJUGALIS HERBA.—This herb, De Gubernatis considers to be, in all probability, the same as is known in Piedmont as Concordia (according to Gerarde, a kind of wild Tansy), concerning which M. Bernadotti had sent him the following particulars:—“In the valleys of Lanzo, when two lovers wish to assure themselves that their marriage will take place, they proceed to search for the plant called Concordia. They say that this plant is exceedingly scarce, and hence very difficult to find. Its root is divided into two parts, each representing a hand with five fingers. On finding this plant, it is necessary to uproot it in order to see if the two hands are united—a certain sign that the union will take place. If, on the contrary, the two hands are separated, the marriage will be broken off.” (See Concordia.)

CORIANDER.—From a passage in the Book of Numbers, where Manna is likened to Coriander-seed, it would seem that “Coriander’s spicy seed” was commonly used by the Israelites. The bitter Coriander is one of the five plants mentioned by the Mishna as one of the “bitter herbs” ordained by God to be eaten by the Jews at the Feast of the Passover. It was esteemed as a spice by the Arabs, Egyptians, and Hindus. The plant’s foliage has a strong and offensive odour, but its little round fruit is pleasantly aromatic, and its seeds, when covered with sugar, form the well-known Coriander comfits. Robert Turner, in the ‘Brittish Physician,’ says that the powder of the seeds taken in wine, stimulate the passions; and Gerarde affirms that the juice of the green leaves, “taken in the quantity of four dragmes, killeth and poisoneth the body.”——Coriander is held to be under the planetary influence of Saturn.

CORN.—The generic name of Corn, which is applied to all kinds of grain, is one of several words, which being common to the widely-separated branches of the Indo-European race, prove the practice of tillage among our ancestors before they left their first home in Central Asia.——The Greeks worshipped Demeter, and the Romans Ceres, as the goddess of Corn, and she is supposed to have been the same deity as Rhea and Tellus, and the Cybele, Bona Dea, Berecynthia of the Phrygians, the Isis of the Egyptians, Atergates of the Syrians, and the Hera of the Arcadians. Ceres was generally represented as a beautiful woman, with a garland of ears of Corn on her head, a wheatsheaf by her side, and the cornucopia, or horn of plenty, in her hand. To commemorate the abduction of her daughter Proserpine by Pluto, a festival was held about the beginning of harvest, and another festival, lasting six days, was held in remembrance of the goddess’s search for her daughter, at the time that Corn is sown in the earth. During the quest for Proserpine, the earth was left untilled and became barren; but upon the return of Ceres, she instructed Triptolemus of Eleusis in all the arts appertaining to agriculture and the cultivation of Corn, and gave him her chariot, drawn by two dragons, wherein he might travel over the whole earth and distribute Corn to all its inhabitants. On his return to Eleusis, Triptolemus restored the chariot to Ceres, and established the famed Eleusinian festivals and mysteries in her honour. This festival, observed every fourth year, and dedicated to Demeter (Ceres) and Proserpine, was the most solemn of all the sacred feasts of Greece, and was so religiously observed, that anyone revealing its secret mysteries, or improperly taking part in the ceremonials, was put to an ignominious death. During the festival, the votaries walked in a solemn procession, in which the holy basket of Ceres was carried about in a consecrated cart, the people on all sides shouting Hail, Demeter!——In their sacrifices, the ancients usually offered Ceres a pregnant sow, as that animal often destroys the Corn and other crops. While the Corn was yet in grass they offered her a ram, after the victim had been thrice led round the fields.——Among the Romans, twelve priests named Arvales, supposed to have been descended from the nurse of Romulus, celebrated in April and July the festivals called Ambarvalia. These priests, who wore crowns composed of ears of Corn, conducted processions round the ploughed fields in honour of Ceres, and offered as sacrifices at her shrine a sow, a sheep, and a bull. The rites of the Arvales were founded specially on the worship of Corn.——It is believed that among the Greeks, the story of Proserpine brought back from the infernal regions by her mother Ceres, and finally adjudged to pass six months on earth, and six months in Hades, symbolises Corn as the seed of Wheat, and its condition during Winter and Summer.——De Gubernatis considers that the story of Proserpine has its Indian equivalent in the myth of the birth of Sîtâ, daughter of King Janaka, the Fecundator. Sîtâ was not born of a woman, but issued either from a furrow in the earth, or from the middle of an altar.——The Vishnupurâna mentions several species of grain which have been specially created by the gods; amongst them being Rice, Barley, Millet, and Sesamum. In the sacrifices of the Hindoos, they offer several sorts of Corn to ensure abundant harvests. Indra is the great husbandman of the heavens, which he renders fertile: he is also the divinity of the fields, and, like the Scandinavian god Thor, the presiding deity of Corn. It is he who fertilises the earth in his capacity of god of tempests and rain. The employment of Corn in sacrificial rites, was common in India of the Vedic period, in Greece, and in Rome; and in the same countries we find Corn used during nuptial ceremonies. Thus in Vedic India, it was customary to scatter two handfuls of Corn over the clasped hands of the bride and bridegroom, and a similar proceeding still takes place amongst the Parsees. An analogous custom existed amongst the Romans. At an Indian wedding, after the first night, the mother of the husband, with all the female relatives, come to the young bride, and place on her head a measure of Corn—emblem of fertility. The husband then comes forward and takes from his bride’s head some handfuls of the grain, which he scatters over himself. Similar usages exist at the present day in many parts of Italy, relics of the old Roman custom of offering Corn to the bride. In Gwalior, at one part of the marriage ceremony, the priests shout vociferously, only stopping now and then to cast over the bride and bridegroom showers of Corn, Millet, and Rice. In some parts of Central India, at the end of the rainy season, the people congregate on the banks of the lakes, and launch on the water, as an offering, pots of earth, containing sprouting Wheat.——On the banks of the Indus, there is believed to grow some miraculous Corn on the spot where formerly were burnt the remains of the Buddhist King Sivika, who sacrificed his life for a pigeon. The Chinese Buddhists made pilgrimages, during the middle ages, to the place where Sivika had lived and died; and here it was that the miraculous Wheat grew, which the sun had no power to scorch. A single grain of this Wheat kept its happy possessor from all ills proceeding from cold as well as from fever.——The Chinese, regarding Corn as a gift from heaven, celebrate with sacrifices, prayers, and religious rites, both seedtime and harvest. They also think that in the heavens there is a special constellation for Corn, composed of eight black stars, each of which has under its special protection one of the eight varieties of Corn, viz., Rice, Millet, Barley, Wheat, Beans, Peas, Maize, and Hemp. When this cereal constellation is clear, it is a sign that the eight kinds of Corn will ripen; but when, on the contrary, it is dim and obscured, a bad harvest is looked for. The Emperor Ven-ti, who reigned 179 years before Christ, is said to have incited his subjects to the more zealous cultivation of Corn, by ploughing with his own hands the land surrounding his palace.——The Chaldeans recognised a god of grain, called Sérakh; the Assyrians, a god of harvests, named Nirba; the Romans, a goddess, Segetia or Segesta, who was invoked by husbandmen, that their harvests might be plentiful. Among the Romans, indeed, the growth of Corn was under the special protection of different deities; hence the worship they paid to Seia, who protected Corn before it sprang up above the earth; to Occator, the god of harrowing; to Sarritor, the god of weeding; to Nodotus, the god who watched over the blade when it became knotty; and to Robigus, the god who protected the Corn from blights.——In the sepulchres of the Egyptian kings, which have of late years been opened, was discovered, carefully preserved in closed vessels, Corn, the grains of which retained both their pristine form and colour; when tested, this Corn was found, after several thousand years, still to retain its vitality. The matchless wealth of ancient Egypt was probably in great measure due to its Corn. The Bible history of Joseph, and the narrative of the ten plagues, set forth how famed the land of Egypt was in those days for its Wheat. The mode of culture in that country now is exceedingly simple: when the inundations of the Nile have subsided, the grain is thrown upon the mud; and if by chance it should be considered too hard, the seed is lightly ploughed in. No further care is bestowed until the ripening of the produce in the following April.——Corn was unknown among the Mexicans when their country was first visited by Europeans; the foundation of the vast Wheat harvests of Mexico is said to have been three or four grains, which a slave of Cortez discovered in 1530, accidentally mixed with some Rice.——Peru was indebted for the introduction of Corn to a Spanish lady, Maria de Escobar, who conveyed a few grains to Lima, cultivated them, and distributed the seed among the farmers. The first grains of Corn which reached Quito, were conveyed thither by Father Josse Rixi, a Fleming, who sowed them near the Monastery of St. Francis, where the monks still preserve and show, as a precious relic, the rude earthen vessel wherein the seeds first reached them.——Among the Arabs there is a tradition that when Adam was driven out of Paradise he took with him three plants,—an ear of Corn, chief of all kinds of food; a bunch of Dates, chief of fruits; and a slip of Myrtle, chief of sweet-scented flowers.——There is a curious custom which still survives in a few districts of Brittany, by which the good faith of lovers is sought to be proved. On St. John’s Eve, the men, wearing branches of green Wheat-ears, the women with Flax-blossoms, come to one of the pillar stones, or dolmens, still standing, dance around it, and then place their wreath upon it: if the wreath remain fresh for some time after, the lover is to be trusted; but should it shrivel up within a day or two, so will the love wither and fade away.——In some parts of Italy, there is a belief that on the night of the third of May the blessing of Heaven descends on the Corn in the form of a minute red insect, which remains on the Wheat only for two or three days.——In Piedmont, it is a custom in certain districts, on the last day of February, for the children to roam the meadows, crying, “March, March, arrive! and for every grain of Wheat let us receive a hundred.”——At Venice, on Midsummer Eve, young girls sow some Corn in a pot, which they then place in a position where the sun cannot enter; after eight days they remove the pot: the Corn has then sprouted; and if it is green and healthy, it is a token to the girl that she will have a rich and handsome husband; but if the sprout is yellow or white, it is a sign that the husband will be anything but a good one.——In Corsica, after a wedding, just before the feast, the men and children retire, and the women seat the bride on a measure full of Corn, from which they have each previously taken a handful. The women then commence saying an invocation, and during this each one scatters the handful of Corn over the bride’s head.——In English harvest-fields the prettiest girl present is chosen to cut the last handful of Corn.——In Sweden, if a grain of Corn be found under the table when sweeping on a New Year’s morn, it is believed to be a portent of an abundant crop that year.——A tuft of Corn or Grass was given by Eugène and Marlborough as a cockade to the German, Dutch, and English soldiers comprising the army. The faction of the Fronde opposed to Cardinal Mazarin wore stalks of Corn to distinguish them.——Corn and Grapes typify the Blessed Eucharist. An ear of Corn is a prominent emblem in Freemasonry, proving that the order did not originally confine their intellects or their labours to building operations, but also devoted themselves to agriculture.——Astrologers appear to be divided in their opinions as to whether Corn is under the dominion of Venus or the Sun.——In dreams, to pluck Corn-ears portends secret enemies; otherwise, dreams of Corn betoken good fortune, prosperity, and happiness.

Corn-flower. See Centaury.

Corn-Marigold. See Chrysanthemum.

CORNEL.—After Romulus had marked out the bounds of his rising city, he threw his javelin on the Mount Palatine. The weapon, made of the wood of the Cornel (Cornus mascula), stuck fast in the ground, took root, grew, threw out leaves and branches, and became a flourishing tree. This prodigy was considered as the happy presage of the power and duration of the infant empire.——According to some accounts, the Cornel, or Cornelian Cherry, is the tree which sprang from the grave of Prince Polydorus, who was assassinated by Polymnestor. The boughs of this tree dropped blood when Æneas, journeying to Italy, attempted to tear them from the tree.——The Greeks consecrated the Cornel to Apollo; and when, in order to construct the famed wooden horse during the siege of Troy, they felled, on Mount Ida, several Cornelian-trees in a grove, called Carnea, dedicated to the god, they provoked his anger and indignation: to expiate this sacrilege, the Greeks instituted the festival called Carnea.——The Cornel is under Venus.

Coronation-flower.—See Carnation.

COSTMARY.—This plant, the Balsamita vulgaris, owes its name of Costmary to the Greek Kostos, an unknown aromatic plant, and to the fact of its being dedicated to St. Mary Magdalene. A variety of the plant is also called, after her, Maudlein, either in allusion to her box of scented ointment or to its use in the uterine affections over which, as the special patroness of unchaste women, she presided. In old times, the plant was known as Herba Sanctæ or Divæ Mariæ.——The Costmary is held to be under Jupiter.

COSTUS.—The Costus speciosus, an Indian swamp tree, celebrated for its sweet fruit, is a sacred tree, and in the Hindu mythology figures as Kushtha, one of the trees of heaven. It is a magical tree, curing fevers, and is looked upon as the first of medicinal plants. It is represented as the friend and companion of Soma, the god of Ambrosia. It is called the Revealer of Ambrosia, inasmuch as its fruit grew on the summit of Mount Himavant at the moment when the golden boat of the gods touched its summit, and by its illuminating powers enabled them to find the Ambrosia.

COTTON-PLANT.—The Cotton-plant (Gossypium) was first cultivated in the East, whence were procured the finest muslins (so named from Mosul, in Mesopotamia, where it was first made), calico (from Calicut, in India), and Nankeen (from Nankin, in China, where the yellow Cotton-plants grow). Now the Cotton-plant gives employment to millions of people, sends thousands of ships across the sea, and binds together the two great Anglo-Saxon nations. Although so useful, the Cotton is not one of the sacred plants of India: in an Indian poem, however, the plant is noticed favourably:—“We love the fruits of the Cotton because, although tasteless, they have the property of concealing that which ought to be concealed” (in allusion to the use of cotton as clothing). The Khonds, whenever founding a new settlement, always plant first a Cotton-plant, which they hold sacred and religiously preserve.——M. Agassiz, in his work on Brazil, recounts a strange legend respecting the Gossypium Brazilianum. Caro Sacaibu, the first of men, was a demi-god. His son, Rairu, an inferior being, obeyed the instructions of his father, who, however, did not love him. To get rid of him, Sacaibu constructed an armadillo, and buried it in the earth, leaving visible only the tail, rubbed with Mistletoe. Then he ordered his son to bring him the armadillo. Rairu obeyed, but scarcely had he touched the tail, when, aided by Sacaibu, it dragged Rairu to the bottom of the earth. But thanks to his wit, Rairu contrived to make his way to the surface again, and told Sacaibu that in the subterranean regions lived a race of men and women, who, if transported to earth, would cultivate it. Sacaibu allowed himself to be convinced of this, and accordingly descended in his turn to the bottom of the earth by the aid of a rope composed of Cotton, which he had sown for the first time on the occasion. The first men brought to earth by means of Sacaibu’s rope were small and ugly, but the more rope he pulled up, the handsomer became the men, until just as he was about to pull out the handsomest the Cotton rope broke, and the brightest specimens of humanity were doomed for ever to remain in the bowels of mother earth. That is the reason why, in this earth of ours, beauty is so scarce.

Coventry Bells.—See Campanula.

COWSLIP.—The familiar name, Cowslip, is presumed to be derived from the Anglo-Saxon Cú-slyppe: Skeat thinks because the plant was supposed to spring up where a patch of cow-dung had fallen. The flowers of the common Cowslip, Petty Mullein, or Paigle (Primula veris), are, in some parts of Kent, called Fairy Cups. The odour of Cowslips is said to calm the heart. A pleasant and wholesome wine is made from them, resembling Muscadel. It is said to induce sleep. Says Pope:—

“For want of rest,
Lettuce and Cowslip wine—probatum est.”

Cowslip-balls are made in the following manner:—The umbels or heads are picked off as close as possible to the top of the main stalks. From fifty to sixty of these are hung across a string stretched between the backs of two chairs. The flowers are then pressed carefully together, and the string tied tightly, so as to collect them into a ball. Care should be taken to have all the flowers open, so as to make the surface of the ball even.——Culpeper, the astrological herbalist, says that the Greeks gave the name of Paralysis to the Cowslip because the flowers strengthened the brain and nerves, and were a remedy for palsy. He adds, that Venus lays claims to this herb, and it is under the sign Aries.

COWSLIP OF JERUSALEM.—The Virginian Cowslip or Lungwort (Pulmonaria officinalis), is called Cowslip of Jerusalem, Sage of Jerusalem, Sage of Bethlehem, Wild Comfrey and Lung-wort, being supposed, from its spotted leaves, to be a remedy for diseased lungs. Linnæus christened the plant Dodecatheon, or Twelve Divinities, because, in April, it is crowned with twelve pink flowers reversed.——The Lung-wort is considered to be a herb of Jupiter.

COW-TREE.—The ancient inhabitants of Venezuela regarded as sacred the Chichiuhalquehuill, Tree of Milk, or Celestial Tree, that distilled milk from the extremity of its branches, and around which were seated infants who had expired a few days after their birth. A Mexican drawing of this Celestial Tree is preserved in the Vatican, and is noticed by Humboldt, who first heard of the Palo de Vaca, or Cow-tree, in the year 1800, and supposed it to be peculiar to the Cordillera of the coast. It was also found by Mr. Bridemeyer, a botanist, at a distance of three days’ journey to the east of Caraccas, in the valley of Caucagua, where it is known by the name of Arbol de Leche, or the Milk-tree; and where the inhabitants profess to recognise, from the thickness and colour of the foliage, the trunks that yield the most juice,—as the herdsman distinguishes, from external signs, a good milch cow. At Barbula, this vegetable fountain is more aptly termed the Palo de Vaca, or Cow-tree. It rises, as Humboldt informs us, like the broad-leaved Star-apple (Chrysophyllum Cainito), to a height of from thirty to forty feet, and is furnished with round branches, which, while young, are angular, and clothed with a fine heavy down. The trunk, on being wounded, yields its agreeable and nutritious fluid in the greatest profusion. Humboldt remarks that “a few drops of vegetable juice recall to our minds all the powerfulness and the fecundity of nature. On the barren flank of a rock grows a tree with coriaceous and dry leaves. Its large woody roots can scarcely penetrate into the stone. For several months of the year, not a single shower moistens its foliage. Its branches appear dead and dried; but when the trunk is pierced, there flows from it a sweet and nourishing milk. It is at the rising of the sun that this vegetable fountain is most abundant. The blacks and natives are then seen hastening from all quarters, furnished with large bowls to receive the milk, which grows yellow, and thickens at its surface. Some empty their bowls under the tree itself, others carry the juice home to their children. We seem to see the family of a shepherd who distributes the milk of his flock.”

CRANE’S BILL.—The Crane’s Bill, or English Geranium, derived its name from a fancied resemblance of the fruit to the beak of that bird. Another name for the plant is Dove’s Foot.——Astrologers say that it is under the dominion of Mars.

CRANBERRY.—The Cranberry (Vaccinium Oxycoccus) was formerly known as the Marsh-wort or Fen-berry. The Druids called the plant Samolus, and used great ceremonies in gathering it; these consisted in a previous fast, in not looking back during the time of their plucking it, and lastly in using their left hand only. This plant was considered to be particularly efficacious in curing the diseases incident to swine and cattle.

CRESS.—Chaucer calls the Cress by its old Saxon name of Kers, which may possibly have been the origin of the vulgar saying of not caring a “curse” for anything—meaning a Cress. Gerarde tells us that the Spartans were in the habit of eating Cresses with their bread; this they did no doubt on account of an opinion held very generally among the ancients that those who ate Cress became firm and decided, for which reason the plant was in great request. Water-Cresses, according to astrologers, are herbs of the Moon.

Cross-Flower.—See Milkwort.

CROCUS.—Legendary lore derives the name of this flower from a beautiful youth named Crocus, who was consumed by the ardency of his love for the shepherdess Smilax, and was afterwards metamorphosed into the flower which still preserves his name; Smilax being also transformed, some accounts say into a flower, others into a Yew.

“Crocus and Smilax may be turned to flowers,
And the Curetes spring from bounteous showers.”—Ovid.

Rapin says:—

“Crocus and Smilax, once a loving pair,
But now transformed, delightful blossoms bear.”

According to a Grecian legend, the Crocus sprang from the blood of the infant Crocus, who was accidentally struck by a metal disc thrown by Mercury whilst playing a game.——One of the Sanscrit names of the Crocus, or Saffron, is asrig, which signifies “blood.” The dawn is sometimes called by the classic poets, on account of its colour, crocea.——The ancients often used to adorn the nuptial couch with Crocus-flowers, perhaps because it is one of the flowers of which, according to Homer, the couch of Jove and Juno was composed.

“And sudden Hyacinths the turf bestrow,
And flowery Crocus made the mountains glow.”

The Egyptians, at their banquets, encircled their wine cups with garlands of Crocus and Saffron, and in their religious processions these flowers were carried with other blooms and aromatics.——The Jews made use of the Saffron Crocus (Crocus sativus) as an aromatic, and in the Song of Solomon it is referred to as highly appreciated:—“Thy plants are an orchard of Pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; Camphire, with Spikenard; Spikenard and Saffron,” &c.——The Greeks employed the Crocus in the composition of their perfumes. Thus Hipponax says:—

“I then my nose with baccaris anointed
Redolent of Crocus.”

The Romans were so fond of the Crocus, that they not only had their apartments and banqueting halls strewed with this plant, but they also composed with it unguents and essences which were highly prized. Some of the latter were often made to flow in small streams at their entertainments, or to descend in dewy showers over the audience. Lucan, in his ‘Pharsalia,’ describing how the blood runs out of the veins of a person bitten by a serpent, says that it spouts out in the same manner as the sweet-smelling essence of Saffron issues from the limbs of a statue. In both Greece and Rome, as in later years in this land, Crocus was a favourite addition to dishes of luxury, and Shakspeare speaks of Saffron to colour the warden pies.——In olden times, Crocus was held to be a great cordial and strengthener of the heart and lungs; it was also considered useful in the plague and similar pestilences; and was said to excite amatory passions.——Robert Turner states that the plant was sometimes called Filias ante Patrem, because it puts forth flowers before the leaves. This old herbalist, who lived in the reign of Charles II., would seem to have been a thorough Royalist, for after remarking that large crops of Saffron-flowers were grown at Saffron-Walden, he adds that the crop “must be gathered as soon as it is blown, or else it is lost; so that Jack Presbyter for covetousness of the profit can reach his Sabbatarian conscience to gather it on Sunday; and so he can do anything else that redounds to his profit, tho’ it destroy his brother.”——The Crocus or Saffron is a herb of the Sun, and under the Lion.

CUCKOO FLOWERS.—Various flowers are called after the “harbinger of Spring.” In old works, the name “Cuckoo Flower” was given to the Lychnis flos cuculi, but is now generally applied to the Lady’s Smock (Cardamine pratensis). Cuckoo Gilliflower was a name also given to the Lychnis flos cuculi, on account of its blooming at the time the Cuckoo’s song was heard. “Cuckoo’s Bread,” or “Cuckoo’s Meat” is the Wood Sorrel, Oxalis Acetosella. Shakspeare’s “Cuckoo Buds of yellow hue” are probably the buds of the Crowfoot. “Cuckoo Grass” is the Luzula Campestris, a grass-like Rush, flowering at the time of the Cuckoo. “Cuckoo Pint,” or “Pintle” is the Arum maculatum.

CUCUMBER.—In the East, the Cucumber (Cucumis sativa) has been cultivated from the earliest periods. When the Israelites complained to Moses in the wilderness, comparing their old Egyptian luxuries with the Manna of the wilderness, they exclaimed: “We remember the fish which we did eat in Egypt freely, the Cucumbers, and the Melons.” Isaiah, depicting the desolation of Judah, said: “The daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard—as a lodge in a garden of Cucumbers”—in allusion to the practise of cultivating Cucumbers in open fields.——Although, says De Gubernatis, the Buddhists derive the name of Ikshvâku from Ikshi (Sugar-cane), we must not forget that the wife of Sagara, to whom was promised sixty thousand children, first gave birth to an Ikshvâku, that is to say, to a Cucumber. Just as the Cucumber and the Pumpkin or Gourd are gifted with fecundity and the desire to climb, so Trisanku, one of the descendants of Ikshvâku, had the ambition to ascend to heaven, and he obtained that favour by the assistance of the sage Visvamitra.——There was formerly a superstitious belief in England that Cucumbers had the power of killing by their natural coldness. Gerarde says “they yield to the body a cold and moist nourishment, and that very little, and the same not good.”——To dream of Cucumbers denotes recovery to the sick, and that you will speedily fall in love; or if you are in love, that you will marry the object of your affection. It also denotes moderate success in trade; to a sailor a pleasant voyage.——Cucumbers are under the influence of the Moon.

CUMIN.—According to Theophrastus, the ancients were accustomed to sow the seed of Cumin (Cuminum Cyminum), with an accompaniment of oaths and maledictions, just as they were wont to do in the case of Basil: this singular custom was probably some form of incantation, to preserve this highly-reverenced plant from the dreaded effects of the Evil Eye, and to cause it to flourish well. Among the Greeks, Cumin symbolised meanness and cupidity: the people nicknamed Marcus Antoninus, Cumin, on account of his avarice; and misers were jokingly spoken of as persons who had eaten Cumin.——The plant appears to have been regarded as specially possessing the power of retention. Thus in Germany, in order to prevent newly-made bread from being stolen by Wood-demons, the loaves had Cumin put in them. In Italy, a similar custom prevails; and in some places it is supposed that the Cumin possesses the power of keeping the thief in the house along with the bread which he wished to steal. In some parts of Italy they give Cumin to pigeons in order to make them tame and fond of their home; and Cumin mixed with flour and water is given to fowls with the same object. Country lasses also endeavour to make their lovers swallow it, in order to ensure their continued attachment and fidelity. Or, if the lover is going to serve as a soldier, or has obtained work in a distant part of the country, his sweetheart gives him a newly-made loaf seasoned with Cumin, or, perhaps, a cup of wine in which Cumin has been previously powdered and mixed.——The ancients were acquainted with the power of Cumin to cause the human countenance to become pallid, and Pliny mentions two cases in which the herb was so employed.

CURRANT.—According to the Iranian legend of the Creation, the first human couple, Maschia and Maschiäna, issued from a Currant-bush. At first there was only one Currant-bush, but in process of time the one bush became separated into two. To these two plants Ormuzd, the Iranian supreme deity, imparted a soul, and thus from the Currant-bushes issued the first two human beings.——To dream of Currants denotes happiness in life, success in your undertakings, constancy in your sweetheart, and to the farmer and tradesman riches.——The Currant-tree is under the influence of Venus.

CYCLAMEN.—The Greeks had several names for the Cyclamen, and the Romans also distinguished it by a variety of titles, as Tuber terræ and Terræ rapum, from its Turnip-like root, Panis Porcinus, Orbicularis, Arthanita, and Cyclamen, on account of the roundness of its root. It was called Sow-bread and Swine-bread because, in countries where it is abundant, it forms the chief food of herds of swine.——This plant was formerly regarded as a most potent assistant by midwives, and it was recommended to them by the surgeons of the day. The peculiar shape of its root was in itself suggestive of its employment by these good women, and the virtues of the plant were regarded with superstitious reverence. Thus we find Gerarde stating, that the mere wearing of the root, “hanged about women,” had a salutary effect; and that he himself had instructed his wife to employ its leaves when tending divers women in their confinement. The old herbalist also tells us that he had Cyclamens growing in his garden, but that for fear any matrons should, accidentally, step over them, and by this means bring on miscarriage, he fenced them in with sticks, and laid others crossways over them, “lest any woman should, by lamentable experiment, find my words to be true, by their stepping over the same.” He further warns those who are about to become mothers not to touch or take this herb, or to come near unto it, on account of “the naturale attractive vertue therein contained.” According to Theophrastus, Cyclamen was employed by the ancients to excite love and voluptuous desires.——Placed in a dormitory, this plant was supposed to protect the inmate:—

“St. John’s Wort and fresh Cyclamen she in his chamber kept,
From the power of evil angels to guard him while he slept.”

The old English names of Cyclamen were Sow-bread and Swine-bread.——It was considered under the dominion of Mars.

CYPRESS.—Ovid tells us of the “taper Cypress,” that it is sacred to Apollo, and was once a fair youth, Cyparissus by name, who was a great favourite of the god. Cyparissus became much attached to a “mighty stag,” which grazed on the fertile fields of Cæa and was held sacred to Carthæan nymphs. His constant companion, this gentle stag was one day unwittingly pierced to the heart by a dart thrown by the luckless youth. Overcome with remorse, Cyparissus would fain have killed himself but for the intervention of Apollo, who bade him not mourn more than the loss of the animal required. Unable, however, to conquer his grief, Cyparissus at length prayed the superior powers, that as an expiation, he should be doomed to mourn to all succeeding time: the gods therefore turned him into a Cypress-tree. Ovid thus relates the tale:—

“And now of blood exhausted he appears,
Drained by a torrent of continual tears;
The fleshy colour in his body fades,
And a green tincture all his limbs invades;
From his fair head, where curling locks late hung,
A horrid bush with bristled branches sprung,
Which, stiff’ning by degrees, its stem extends,
Till to the starry skies the spire ascends.
Apollo sad looked on, and sighing cried,
Then be for ever what thy prayer implied;
Bemoaned by me, in others grief excite,
And still preside at every funeral rite.”—Congreve.

According to another account, Silvanus, god of the woods (who is sometimes represented holding a branch of Cypress in his hand), became enamoured of a handsome youth named Cyparissus, who was changed into the tree bearing his name. Rapin gives the following version of the story:—

“A lovely fawn there was—Sylvanus’ joy,
Nor less the fav’rite of the sportive boy,
Which on soft grass was in a secret shade,
Beneath a tree’s thick branches cooly laid;
A luckless dart rash Cyparissus threw,
And undesignedly the darling slew.
But soon he to his grief the error found,
Lamenting, when too late, the fatal wound:
Nor yet Sylvanus spared the guiltless child,
But the mischance with bitter words reviled,
This struck so deep in his relenting breast,
With grief and shame, and indignation prest,
That tired of life he melted down in tears,
From whence th’ impregnate earth a Cypress rears;
Ensigns of sorrow these at first were born,
Now their fair race the rural scenes adorn.”

In a legend current among the Greeks, the Cypress owes its origin to the daughters of Eteocles, King of Thebes. Carried away by the goddesses in a whirlwind, which kept revolving them in endless circles, they were at length precipitated into a pond, upon which Gæa took compassion on the young girls, and changed them into Cypress-trees.——Perhaps owing to its funereal and sorrowful character, the Cypress has been named as the tree which furnished the wood of the Saviour’s Cross.——An ancient legend referred to in the ‘Gospel of Nicodemus,’ Curzon’s ‘Monasteries of the Levant,’ and other works, carries the history of the Cross back as far as the time of Adam. In substance it is as follows:—Adam, one day, fell sick, and sent his son Seth to the Garden of Eden to ask the guardian angel for some drops of the oil of mercy, distilled from the Tree of Life. The angel replied that none could have that till five thousand years had passed, but gave him a slip of the tree, which was afterwards planted on Adam’s grave, and grew into a goodly tree with three branches. Another version states that the Angel in Paradise gave Seth three seeds, which he placed under Adam’s tongue before burial, from which they grew into the Cypress, the Cedar, and the Pine. These were subsequently carried away by Moses, who cut his rod from them, and King David transplanted them near a fountain at Jerusalem, where the three saplings combined and grew into one grand tree. Under its umbrageous shade he composed his Psalms and lamented his sins. His son Solomon afterwards cut it down for a pillar in his Temple, but no one was able to fix it there. Some say it was preserved in the Temple, while others aver that it formed a bridge across a marsh, which the Queen of Sheba refused to pass, being deterred by a vision of its future burden. It was afterwards buried in the Pool of Bethesda, thereby accounting for the healing properties possessed by its waters. At the Passion, it floated and was taken for the Cross, or, as some say, for the upright beam. Henry Maundrell speaks of a Greek convent, about half an hour’s distance from Jerusalem, where they showed him a hole in the ground under the high altar, where the stump of the tree stood. Sir John Maundevile also says that the spot where the tree grew at Jerusalem was pointed out to him; the wood, he states, formed a bridge over the brook Cedron.——Some versions of the legend of the wood of the Cross state it was made of Cypress, Cedar, Pine, and Box: one names Cypress for the body, Palm for the hands, Cedar for the support of the feet, and Olive for the superscription.——Another version states that the cross beam was of Cypress; the upright beam of “immortal Cedar;” the title of Olive; and the foot-rest of Palm: hence the line—

> “Ligna crucis Palma, Cedrus, Cupressus, Oliva.”

In all countries, and from the earliest times, the Cypress has been deemed the emblem of woe. Gerarde tells us, that it had the reputation of being deadly, and that its shadow was unfortunate. Horace, Virgil, and Ovid all refer to it as a tree both gloomy and funereal. By the Greeks and Romans alike, the “sad” tree was consecrated to Pluto and Proserpine, as well as to the Fates and the Furies. The Greeks crowned with Cypress their tragic Muse Melpomene, and it became an accompaniment of Venus in the annual processions in which she was supposed to lament over Adonis.——The ancients planted the Cypress around graves, and in the event of a death, placed it either before the house or in the vestibule, so that no one about to perform a sacred rite might enter a place polluted with a dead body. The Cypress was probably selected for this purpose because of the belief that, when once cut down, it never springs up again.——But, in connection with its funereal associations, the Cypress has always been highly esteemed as an undying tree, ever verdant, flourishing (Cupressus sempervirens) and odorous, and a tree of which the wood, like the Cedar, is incorruptible. Theophrastus attributes great honour to the tree, and points out how the roofs of old temples became famous by reason of its wood, and that the timber of which the rafters were made was deemed everlasting, because it was unhurt by rotting, moth, worm, or corruption. Martial describes the Cypress as deathless. Gerarde identifies it with the Thya of Pliny and Homer: “He showeth that this is burned among the sweet smells which Circe was much delighted withall.... The verse is extant in the fifth booke of Odysses, where he mentioneth that Mercurie, by Jupiter’s commandment, went to Calypsus’ den, and that he did smell the burnt trees, Thya and Cedrus, a great way off.” Theocritus and Virgil both allude to the fragrance of the Cypress, and on account of the balsamic scent of its timber, chips of it were sometimes employed to flavour wine with. The Athenians buried their heroes in coffins of this wood, and the Egyptians made of it those apparently indestructible chests that contain the mummies of a bygone age.——Pausanias tells us, that the Greeks guarded scrupulously the Cypresses which grew over the Tomb of Alcmæon, and that these trees attained such a height, that they cast their shadows on the neighbouring mountain. The same writer mentions several groves of Cypress which were looked upon as sacred by the Greeks; for instance, those which surrounded the Temples of Bellerophon and Æsculapius, one of the shrines of Venus, the Tomb of Lais, near Corinth, and a dense wood of Cypress, where were to be seen statues of Apollo, Mercury, and Rhea. Diodorus Siculus, Plato, and Solinus speak of groves of Cypress which were held sacred in Crete, near the ruins of the reputed dwelling of Rhea, and in the vicinity of the Cavern of Zeus. Solinus also remarks on the peculiarity of the Cretan Cypresses in sprouting afresh after being cut down.——P. della Valla, a great traveller of Evelyn’s time, tells of a wonderful Cypress, then extant, near the tomb of Cyrus, to which pilgrimages were made. This tree was hollowed within, and fitted for an oratory, and was noted for a gummy transudation which it yielded, reputed by the Turks to turn, every Friday, into drops of blood.——Plato desired to have the laws engraved on tablets of Cypress, because he thought the wood more durable even than brass: the antique idol of Vejovis (or Vedius), in Cypress-wood, at the Capitol, corroborates this notion. Semiramis selected the timber of the Cypress for his bridge across the Euphrates; the valves, or doors, of the Ephesian temple were of this material, as were also the original gates of St. Peter’s, Rome. It has been thought that the Gopher, mentioned in Genesis (vi., 14), of which the Ark was built, was really Kupros, Cupar, or Cuper, the Cypress. Epiphanius relates that some relics of the Ark (circa campos Sennaar) lasted even to his days, and was judged to have been of Cypress. Certain it is that the Cretans employed it in ship-building, and that so frequent was the Cypress in those parts of Assyria where the Ark was supposed to have been built, that the vast armadas which Alexander the Great sent forth from Babylon were constructed of it. Of Cypress-wood were formed Cupid’s darts, Jove’s sceptre, and the club of Hercules used in recovering the cows stolen by the robber Cacus. Either of Fig- or Cypress-wood were fashioned the obscene statues of Priapus set up by the Romans in their gardens and orchards, which were presided over by this lascivious god, who exercised a peculiar faculty of detecting and punishing thieves. The thunderbolts of Indra possessed the like distinctive power. In Northern mythology, the club of Hercules and the thunderbolts of Indra are replaced by the mallet of Thor, which it is not difficult to recognise in the mallet of Cypress-wood that, in Germany, was formerly believed to impart the power of discovering thieves.——From its qualities, the Cypress acquired throughout the East a sacred character. This was more particularly the case in Persia. In the Zend-Avesta, it is accounted divine—consecrated to the pure light of Ormuzd, whose word was first carved on this noble tree. Parsi traditions tell of a Cypress planted by Zoroaster himself, which grew to wondrous dimensions, and beneath the branches of which he built himself a summer-house, forty yards high and forty yards broad. This tree is celebrated in the songs of Firdusi as having had its origin in Paradise. It is not surprising, therefore, that the Cypress, a tree of Paradise, rising in a pyramidal form, with its taper summit pointing to the skies, like the generating flame, should be planted at the gates of the most sacred fire-temples, and, bearing the law inscribed by Zoroaster, should stand in the forecourt of the royal palace and in the middle of pleasure gardens, as a reminiscence of the lost Paradise. This is the reason why sculptured images of the Cypress are found in the temples and palaces of Persepolis; for the Persian kings were servants of Ormuzd. Sacred Cypresses were also found in the very ancient temple of Armavir, in Atropatene, the home of Zoroaster and his light-worship. The Cypress, indeed, reverenced all over Persia, was transmitted as a sacred tree down from the ancient Magi to the Mussulmans of modern times.——From Asia, the Cypress passed to the island of Cyprus (which derived its name from the tree), and here the primitive inhabitants worshipped, under the Phœnician name Beroth, a goddess personified by the Cypress-tree.——According to Claudian, the Cypress was employed by the goddess Ceres as a torch, which she cast into the crater of Etna, in order to stay the eruption of the volcano, and to imprison there Vulcan himself.——An Italian tradition affirms that the Devil comes at midnight to carry off three Cypresses confided to the care of three brothers—a superstitious notion evidently derived from the fact that the tree was by the ancients consecrated to Pluto.——Like all the trees connected with the Phallica, the Cypress is at once a symbol of generation, of death, and of the immortal soul.——In Eastern legends, the Cypress often represents a young lover, and the Rose, his beloved. In a wedding song of the Isle of Crete, the bridegroom is compared to the Cypress, the bride to the scented Narcissus. In Miller’s Chrestomathie is a popular Russian song, in which a young girl tells her master that she has dreamed of a Cypress and of a Sugar-tree. The master tells her that the Cypress typifies a husband, and the Sugar-tree a wife; and that the branches are the children, who will gather around them.——At Rome, according to Pliny, they used to plant a Cypress at the birth of a girl, and called it the dotem of the daughter.——The oldest tree on record is the Cypress of Somma, in Lombardy. An ancient chronicle at Milan proves it was a tree in Julius Cæsar’s time, B.C. 42. It is 121 feet high, and 23 feet in circumference at one foot from the ground. Napoleon, when laying down the plan for his great road over the Simplon, diverged from a straight line to avoid injuring this tree.——To dream of a Cypress-tree denotes affliction and obstruction in business.

Daffodil, Daffodilly, or Daffadowndilly.—See Narcissus.

DAHLIA.—The Dahlia (Dahlia variabilis) is first mentioned in a History of Mexico, by Hernandez (1651): it was next noticed by Menonville, who was employed by the French Minister to steal the cochineal insect from the Spaniards in 1790. The Abbé Cavanilles first described the flower scientifically from a specimen which had bloomed in the Royal Garden of Madrid the previous year, and he named the plant after his friend Andrew Dahl, the Swedish botanist.——The Dahlia was introduced into England in 1789 by Lady Bute from Madrid, but this single plant speedily perished. Cavanilles sent specimens of the three varieties then known to the Jardin des Plantes in 1802, and the flower was very successfully cultivated in France, so that in 1814, on the return of peace, the improved varieties of the Dahlia created quite a sensation among English visitors to Paris. Meanwhile, Lady Holland had in July, 1804, sent Dahlia-seeds to England from Madrid, and ten years after we find her husband thus writing to her:—

“The Dahlia you brought to our isle
Your praises for ever shall speak;
Mid gardens as sweet as your smile,
And in colour as bright as your cheek.”

It is singular that this favourite flower should have been twice introduced to England through the ladies of two of her most noted statesmen, and that the first introduction should mark the year when France became revolutionized, and the second that which saw Napoleon made Emperor of the French nation: it is from these incidents that the Dahlia in floral language has been selected as the symbol of “instability.”——In Germany and Russia, the flower is called Georgina, after a St. Petersburg professor.

DAISY.—The legend connected with the Daisy, or Bellis, runs that this favourite little flower owes its origin to one of the Belides, who were grand-daughters of Danaus, and belonged to the race of Nymphs, called Dryads, presiding over woodlands, pastures, and meadows: she is said to have encouraged the suit of the rural divinity, Ephigeus, but whilst dancing on the sward with him, chanced to attract the admiration of Vertumnus, the guardian deity of orchards, and to enable her to escape from his amorous embrace, she was transformed into the humble flower named Bellis. Thus Rapin says:—

“When the bright ram, bedecked with stars and gold,
Displays his fleece, the Daisy will unfold
To nymphs a chaplet, and to beds a grace,
Who once herself had borne a virgin’s face.”

Chaucer, however, who appears to have been passionately fond of the Daisy, and never tired of singing its praises, tells us that the Queen Alceste was changed into the flower, and that she had as many virtues as there were florets in it.

“Hast thou not a book in thy cheste,
The great goodnesse of the Queene Alceste
That turned was into a Daisie?
She that for her husband chose to die,
And eke to gone to hell rather than lie.
And Hercules rescued her, parde,
And brought her out of hell again to bliss?
And I answered againe, and said ‘Yes,’
Now I knowe her, and this is good Alceste,
The Daisie, and mine own hertes rest?”

Ossian gives another origin. Malvina, weeping beside the tomb of Fingal, for Oscar and his infant son, is comforted by the maids of Morven, who narrate how they have seen the innocent infant borne on a light mist, pouring upon the fields a fresh harvest of flowers, amongst which rises one with golden disc, encircled with rays of silver, tipped with a delicate tint of crimson. “Dry thy tears, O Malvina,” cried the maidens; “the flower of thy bosom has given a new flower to the hills of Cromla.”——The ancient English name of the flower was Day’s Eye, in which way it was written by Ben Jonson; and Chaucer calls it the “ee of the daie.” Probably it received this designation from its habit of closing its petals at night and during rainy weather.——There is a popular superstition, that if you omit to put your foot on the first Daisy you see in Spring, Daisies will grow over you or someone dear to you ere the year be out; and in some English counties an old saying is current that Spring has not arrived until you can plant your foot upon twelve Daisies.——Alphonse Karr, speaking of the Paquerette, or Easter Daisy, says, “There is a plant that no insect, no animal attacks—that ornament of the field, with golden disc and rays of silver, spread in such profusion at our feet: nothing is so humble, nothing is so much respected.” (See Marguerite).——Daisy-roots worn about the person were formerly deemed to prove efficacious in the cure of certain maladies; and Bacon, in his Sylva Sylvarum, tells us “There is also a received tale, that boiling of Daisy-roots in milk (which it is certain are great driers) will make dogs little.”——An old writer (1696) says that they who wish to have pleasant dreams of the loved and absent should put Daisy-roots under their pillow.——It is considered lucky to dream of Daisies in Spring or Summer, but bad in the Autumn or Winter. Daisies are herbs of Venus, under Cancer.

DAMES’ VIOLET.—The species of Rocket called Hesperis matronalis, the Night-smelling Rocket, is much cultivated for the evening fragrance of its flowers: hence the ladies of Germany keep it in pots in their apartments, from which circumstance the flower is said to have obtained the name of Dames’ Violet. It is also called Damask Violet, a name derived from the Latin Viola Damascena, the Damascus Violet. In French this is Violette de Damas, which has probably been misunderstood as Violette des Dames, and has hence become, in English, Dames’ Violet. (See Rocket.)

DANDELION.—The Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) derives its name from the French Dent de lion, lion’s tooth. (Latin, Dens leonis). In nearly every European language the flower bears a similar name, given to it presumably either from the whiteness of its root, the auriferous hue of its flower, which recalls the golden teeth of the heraldic lion, or its jagged leaf, which was supposed to resemble a lion’s tooth. De Gubernatis connects the name with the Sun (Helios), and states that a lion was the animal-symbol of the Sun, and that all plants named after him are essentially plants of the Sun. Certainly the appearance of the Dandelion-flower is very suggestive of the ancient representations of the Sun.——In German Switzerland, the children form chains of the stalks of Dandelions, and holding the garland in their hands, they dance round and round in a circle.——The Dandelion is called the rustic oracle: its flowers always open about five a.m. and shut at eight p.m., serving the shepherd for a clock—

“Leontodons unfold
On the swart turf their ray-encircled gold,
With Sol’s expanding beam the flowers unclose,
And rising Hesper lights them to repose.”—Darwin.

As the flower is the shepherd’s clock, so are the feathery seed-tufts his barometer, predicting calm or storm. These downy seed-balls, which children blow off to find out the hour of the day, serve for other oracular purposes. Are you separated from the object of your love?—carefully pluck one of the feathery heads, charge each of the little feathers composing it with a tender thought; turn towards the spot where the loved one dwells; blow, and the seed-ball will convey your message faithfully. Do you wish to know if that dear one is thinking of you, blow again; and if there be left upon the stalk a single aigrette, it is a proof you are not forgotten. Similarly the Dandelion is consulted as to whether the lover lives east, west, north, or south, and whether he is coming or not.

“Will he come? I pluck the flower leaves off,
And at each, cry, yes—no—yes;
I blow the down from the dry Hawkweed,
Once, twice—hah! it flies amiss!”—Scott.

Old herbalists had great faith in the Dandelion as a wonderful help to consumptive people. More recently, in the county of Donegal, an old woman skilled in simples has treated her patients for “heart fever,” or dyspepsia, as follows:—She measures the sufferer three times round the waist with a ribbon, to the outer edge of which is fastened a green thread. If the patient be mistaken in supposing himself affected with heart fever, this green thread will remain in its place, but should he really have the disorder, it is found that the green thread has left the edge of the ribbon and lies curled up in the centre. At the third measuring, the simpler prays for a blessing. She next hands the patient nine leaves of “heart fever grass,” or Dandelion, gathered by herself, directing him to cut three leaves on three successive mornings.——Hurdis, in his poem of ‘The Village Curate,’ fantastically compares the sparkling undergraduate and the staid divine to the Dandelion in the two stages of its existence:—

“Dandelion this,
A college youth, that flashes for a day
All gold: anon he doffs his gaudy suit,
Touched by the magic hand of some grave bishop,
And all at once becomes a reverend divine—how sleek.
* * * * * * * *
But let me tell you, in the pompous globe
Which rounds the Dandelion’s head, is couched
Divinity most rare.”

To dream of Dandelions betokens misfortune, enemies, and deceit on the part of loved ones. Astrologers claim the Dandelion as a plant of Jupiter.

DANEWORT.—The Dwarf Elder (Sambucus Ebulus) is said only to grow where blood has been shed, either in battle or in murder. A patch of it thrives on ground in Worcestershire, where the first blood was drawn in the civil war between the Royalists and the Parliament. The Welsh call it Llysan gwaed gwyr, or “Plant of the blood of men.” A name of similar import is its English one of Death-wort. It is chiefly in connection with the history of the Danes in England, that the superstition holds; wherever the Danes fought and bled, there did the Dwarf Elder, or Dane’s Wood, spring up and flourish. According to Aubrey, the plant obtained the name of Danewort, Daneweed, or Dane’s blood, because it grew plentifully in the neighbourhood of Slaughterford, Wilts, where there was once a stout battle fought with the Danes. Parkinson, however, thinks the plant obtained the name of Danewort because it would cause a flux called the Danes.

DAPHNE.—The generic name of Daphne has been given to a race of beautiful low shrubs, after the Nymph Daphne, who was changed by the gods into a Laurel, in order that she might escape the solicitations of Apollo (see Laurel); because many of the species have Laurel-like leaves. The sweet-scented Daphne Mezereon is very generally known as the Lady Laurel, and is also called Spurge Olive, Spurge Flax, Flowering Spurge, and Dwarf Bay. The name of Mezereon is probably derived from its Persian name, Madzaryoun, which signifies “destroyer of life,” in allusion to the poisonous nature of its bright red berries. Gerarde says, “If a drunkard doe eat one graine or berrie of it, he cannot be allowed to drinke at that time; such will be the heate of his mouth, and choking in the throte.” A decoction of this plant, mixed with other ingredients, is the Lisbon diet-drink, a well-known alterative.——The Russian ladies are reputed to rub their cheeks with the fruit of the Mezereon, in order, by the slight irritation, to heighten their colour.——The Spurge Laurel (Daphne Laureola) possess similar properties to the Mezereon. It is called Ty-ved in Denmark, and is sacred to Tyr, the Scandinavian god of war. It is the badge of the Highland Grahams.——The Flax-leaved Daphne, called by Gerarde the Mountain Widow-Wayle, is supposed to be the herb Casia, mentioned by Virgil and other Roman writers; the Cneoron of the Greeks.

DATE.—The Date Palm (Phœnix dactylifera) is the Palm of the Oases, and supplies not only food for man and beast, but a variety of useful commodities. This Palm has plume-like leaves, and grows from sixty to eighty feet high, living to a great age, and providing yearly a large crop of fruit. The male and female flowers are borne on separate trees, and it is remarkable that there is a difference in the fructification of the wild Date and the cultivated, though both are the same species. The wild Dates impregnate themselves, but the cultivated trees do not, without the assistance of art. Pontanus, an Italian poet of the fifteenth century, gives a glowing description of a female Date-tree which had stood lonely and barren, near Otranto, until at length a favouring wind wafted towards it the pollen of a male that grew at a distance of fifteen leagues. Father Labat has told of a Date-tree that grew in the island of Martinico, and produced fruit which was much esteemed; but when an increase of the number of Date-trees was wanted, not one could be reared from the seed, and they had to send to Africa for Dates, the stones of which grew readily and produced abundantly. The Date Palm is so abundant in the country between the States of Barbary and the desert (which produces no other kind of tree), that this region is designated as the Land of Dates (Biledulgerid).——The Palm of Palestine is the Date Palm. When the sacred writers wished to describe the majesty and beauty of rectitude, they appealed to the Palm as the fittest emblem which they could select. “He shall grow up and flourish like the Palm-tree” is the promise of David to the just. Mahomet, like the Psalmist of Israel, was wont to compare the virtuous and generous man to the Date-tree:—“He stands erect before his Lord; in every action he follows the impulse received from above; and his whole life is devoted to the welfare of his fellow-creatures.”——The inhabitants of Medina, who possess the most extensive plantations of Date-trees, say that their prophet caused a tree at once to spring from the kernel at his command, and to stand before his admiring followers in mature fruitfulness and beauty.——The Tamanaquas of South America have a tradition that the human race sprang again from the fruits of the Date Palm after the Mexican age of water.——The Arabs say that when Adam was driven out of Paradise, the Date, the chief of all fruits, was one of the three things which he took with him; the other two being the Myrtle and an ear of Wheat.——A popular legend concerning the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt, narrates how a Date Palm, at the command of the child Jesus, bowed down its branches to shade and refresh His mother. Sozomenos relates that, when the Holy Family reached the end of their journey, and approached the city of Heliopolis, in Egypt, a tree which grew before the gates of the city, and was regarded with great veneration as the seat of a god, bowed down its branches at the approach of the infant Christ.——Judæa was typified by the Date Palm upon the coins of Vespasian and Titus. With the Jews, the Date Palm has always been the symbol of triumph, and they carry branches of it in their right hands, in their synagogues, at the Feast of the Tabernacles, in commemoration of their forefathers having gained possession of the Promised Land. In the Christian Church, the remembrance of the Saviour’s ride into Jerusalem amid the hosannas of the people, is associated with the waving of the branches of the Date Palm by the joyous multitude.——An ardent spirit, distilled from Dates and water, is much used by Mahommedans, as it does not come within the prohibition of the Koran against wine. Palm wine is also made from the Date; it is the sap or juice of the tree, and can only be obtained by its destruction.——A curious folk-lore tale of the Chinese records how Wang Chih, a patriarch of the Taouist sect, when one day gathering fire-wood in the mountains of Ku Chow, entered a grotto where some old men were playing at chess. One of the old men handed him a Date-stone, telling him to put it into his mouth. This done, he ceased to feel hunger or thirst. By-and-bye, one of the players said: “It is long since you came here—return at once.” Wang Chih went to take up his axe, and found the handle had mouldered into dust. He went home, but found that centuries had elapsed since the day he set out to cut wood: thereupon he retired to a mountain cell, and devoting himself to religious exercises, finally attained immortality.

DEAD TONGUE.—The Water Hemlock (Œnanthe crocata) has received the name of Dead Tongue from its paralysing effects on the organs of voice. Threlkeld tells of eight lads who had eaten it, and of whom “five died before morning, not one of them having spoken a word.” Gerarde relates, that this plant having by mistake been eaten in a salad, “it did well nigh poyson those that ate of it, making them giddie in their heads, waxing very pale, staggering, and reeling like drunken men.”——The plant is described as “one of Saturn’s nosegays.”

Deadly Nightshade, or Death’s Herb.—See Nightshade.

DEODAR.—The sacred Indian Cedar (Cedrus Deodara) forms vast forests in the mountains of Northern India, where it grows to a height varying from fifty to a hundred feet and upwards. It is the Devadâru, or tree-god of the Shastras, which, in many of the ancient hymns of the Hindus, is the symbol of power and majesty. The tree is often mentioned by the Indian poets. It was introduced into this country in 1822.

DHAK.—The Dhak, or Bastard Teak (Butea frondosa), is one of the sacred trees of India, and one of the most striking of the Indian arboreous Leguminosæ. Both its wood and leaves are highly reverenced, and used in religious ceremonies. The natives, also, are fond of offering the beautiful scarlet flowers in their temples, and the females intertwine the blossoms in their hair.——The flowers yield a superb dye.

DILL.—The aromatic plant Dill (Anethum graveolens) is by some supposed to have derived its name from the old Norse word dilla, dull; the seeds being used as a carminative to cause infants to sleep. Boiled in wine, and drunk, the plant was reputed to excite the passions. Dill was formerly highly appreciated as a plant that counteracted the powers of witches and sorcerers:—

“The Vervain and the Dill,
That hindereth witches of their will.”

Astrologers assign Dill to the domination of Mercury.

DITTANY.—The ancients consecrated the Dittany of Crete (Origanum Dictamnus) to the goddess Lucina, who presided over the birth of children; and she was often represented wearing a crown of this Dittany. The root was particularly recommended by the oracle of Phthas. The Grecian and Roman women attributed to this plant the most extraordinary properties during childbirth, which, it was believed greatly to facilitate. It is reported, says Gerarde, “that the wilde goats or deere in Candy, when they be wounded with arrowes, do shake them out by eating of this plant, and heal their wounds.” According to Virgil, Venus healed the wounded Æneas with Dittany. Plutarch says that the women of Crete, seeing how the goats, by eating Dittany, cause the arrows to fall from their wounds, learnt to make use of the plant to aid them in childbirth. Gerarde recounts that the plant is most useful in drawing forth splinters of wood, bones, &c., and in the healing of wounds, “especially those made with invenomed weapons, arrowes shot out of guns, or such like.” The juice, he says, is so powerful, that by its mere smell it “drives away venomous beasts, and doth astonish them.” When mixed with wine, the juice was also considered a remedy for the bites of serpents. According to Apuleius, however, the plant possessed the property of killing serpents.

The Dittany of Crete, it should be noted, is not to be confounded with the Dittany, Dittander, or Pepper-wort of the English Herbals. This plant, the Lepidium latifolium, from its being used by thrifty housewives to season dishes with, obtained the name of Poor Man’s Pepper. It was held to be under Mars.

DOCK.—In Cornwall, as a charm, the leaves of the common Dock, wetted with spring water, are applied to burns, and three angels are invoked to come out of the East. It is a common practice, in many parts of England, for anyone suffering from the stings of a Nettle to apply a cold Dock-leaf to the inflamed spot, the following well-known rhyme being thrice repeated:—

“Out Nettle, in Dock:
Dock shall have a new smock.”

Docks are said by astrologers to be under the dominion of Jupiter.

DRACÆNA.—The Dracæna, or Dragon-tree (Dracæna Draco), derives its name from the Greek Drakaina, a female dragon. This tree is found in the East India Islands, the Canaries, Cape Verde, and Sierra Leone. Gerarde thus describes it:—“This strange and admirable tree groweth very great, resembling the Pine-tree.” Among its leaves “come forth little mossie floures, of small moment, and turn into berries of the bignesse of Cherries, of a yellowish colour, round, light, and bitter, covered with a threefold skin, or film, wherein is to be seen, as Monardus and divers others report, the form of a dragon, having a long neck and gaping mouth, the ridge, or back, armed with sharp prickles like the porcupine, with a long taile and foure feet, very easie to be discerned.... The trunk, or body of the tree, is covered with a tough bark, very thin and easie to be opened or wounded with any small toole or instrument; which being so wounded in the dog days, bruised or bored, yields forth drops of a thick red liquor of the name of the tree called Dragon’s Tears, or Sanguis Draconis, Dragon’s Bloud.”——This Dragon’s Blood, or Gum Dragon, is well known in medicine as an astringent.——The tooth-brushes called Dragon’s-root, are made from the root of the Dragon-tree, cut into pieces about four inches long, each of which is beaten at one end with a wooden mallet to split it into fibres.——The venerable Dragon-tree of Orotava was for many centuries worshipped as a most sacred tree by the Guanches, or original inhabitants of the Canary Islands. It was considered the twin wonder of the Island of Teneriffe, dividing its interest with the mighty Peak. Humboldt saw it in 1799, when it was considered the oldest and largest of living trees (the giant trees of California being then unknown). The great traveller writes concerning it:—“Its trunk is divided into a great number of branches, which rise in the form of candelabra, and are terminated by tufts of leaves like the Yucca: it still bears every year both leaves and fruit: its aspect feelingly recalls to mind that ‘eternal youth of Nature,’ which is an inexhaustible source of motion and of life.” Since then this sacred tree has been entirely shattered and destroyed by successive storms.

Dream Plant.—See Pulsatilla.

DRYAS.—The pretty evergreen, Dryas, which blooms on the mountain summits, was so named by Linnæus after the Dryades, or nymphs of the Oaks,—the leaves bearing some resemblance to those of the Oak.

DURIAN.—The Durian (Durio Zibethinus) is a native of the East Indies. The fruit of this tree, which is about the size of a man’s head, is regarded by the Malays as the king of fruit, and is reputed to be the most delicious of all the fruits of India. The custard-like pulp in which the large seeds are imbedded, is the part eaten fresh, and resembles cream; yet it is accompanied by such an intolerable stench that, according to Rumphius and Valentyn, it is by law forbidden to throw them out near any public path in Amboyna. The smell is said to resemble certain putrid animal substances, yet all agree that if the first repugnance is once overcome, the fruit is most enjoyable. This fruit is employed as a bait to catch the civet cat; the outer covering is boiled down, and used as a wash for the skin. The seeds are converted into flour, and also used as vegetable ivory.

DURVA.—According to Wilson, Durva is the Sanscrit name of the Agrostis linearis, but Carey applies the name to Panicum Dactylon. This species of Millet, like the sacred Kusa grass, is held in much reverence by the Hindus. In De Gubernatis’ Mythologie des Plantes, the author states that in the Atharvaveda, they implore the Durva, which grows in the water (i.e., in marshy places), and which has a hundred roots and a hundred stems, to give absolution for a hundred faults, and to prolong for a hundred years the life of him who invokes it. The fact that this herb is the tenderest, the freshest, and the most substantial food for cattle, added to its beauty, has gained it respect; but the Indians think, besides, that a nymph is hidden in the plant. When they celebrate, in India, the festival of the god Indra, on the 14th day of the lunar month Bhadra, they sing and dance, and offer fourteen different kinds of fruit to the god. In that ceremony, the devotees wear, attached to the right arm, leaves of the Durva. At Indian weddings, the women bind together the right arm of the husband and the left arm of his bride with the leaves of Durva. In the Vedic age (and the custom still exists in certain parts of India), before building a house, it was customary to place on the four corner foundation stones some Durva. This plant figures, also, among the eight ingredients which compose the Arghya, that is to say, the symbolic offering of Indian hospitality. According to a stanza of the Panchatantra, the Durva sprang from the hair of the cow, as the blue Lotus arose from the cow’s evacuations. The leaf of the Durva is so highly esteemed, that it has passed into a proverb or familiar saying. This leaf is especially attractive to gazelles. The preceding stanza proclaims how happy are those gazelles who eat the herb Durva, for they will never gaze on the face of a man whom riches have made false.

EBONY.—The Diospyros Ebenaster is generally considered to be the true Ebony-tree. This Date-Plum is a native of Ceylon, Cochin China, and the East Indies. Bishop Heber describes the Ebony-tree of Ceylon as a magnificent forest tree, with a tall, black, slender stem, spotted with white. Some judges, however, consider that the real Ebony-tree is the Diospyrus Ebenus, a native of Jamaica.——In ancient times it was much more in use and esteem. Pluto, the sovereign of the infernal regions, is represented as seated on a throne of Ebony; the statues of the Egyptian gods were wrought in Ebony. According to Pausanias, the statue of the Pythian Apollo was formed of this wood; and that writer recounts that a Cyprian, well versed in plant lore, had told him that the true and veritable Ebony was a plant that produced neither leaf, flower, nor fruit; and, moreover, that it grew entirely underground in certain places known to the Æthiopians, who periodically visited those spots, and took away the wood.——Pulverised Ebony, mixed with the charcoal of a burnt snail, is recommended by Sidrach as an application to lessen the white of the eye.——There is an old saying, that a bad man’s heart is as black as Ebony. This, probably, originated from the fact, that while the alburnum of the Ebony-tree is white, its foliage soft and silvery, and its flowers brilliant, the heart alone is really black.——Among the many wonders described by Sir John Maundevile, as having been seen by him when on his Eastern travels, in the fourteenth century, was a certain table of Ebony, or black wood, “that once used to turn into flesh on certain occasions, but whence now drips only oil, which, if kept above a year, becomes good flesh and bone.”

EDELWEISS.—The Edelweiss, or Alpine Cudweed (Leontopodium Alpinum or Gnaphalium), grows on the Swiss mountains on the line of perpetual snow, and from thence is brought down by travellers as a proof that they reached this altitude. As in many cantons it only grows in nearly inaccessible places, it is considered an act of daring to gather it, and the flower is therefore much valued by the Swiss maidens as a proof of the devotion of their lovers. Although hardy, this plant is delicate and fragile, enveloping itself in soft down, and only blooming on rocks exposed in full midday. Its bloom is surrounded by white velvety leaves; even the stem has a down upon it.——With the exception of the Alpenrose, no other mountain flower is so characteristic of the Alpine districts, so dear to the native heart, so celebrated by Alpine poets, or so popular among Swiss tourists. Indeed, its very popularity has threatened to lead to its extinction in the districts most frequented by visitors; and to prevent this, the German and Tyrolese Alpine Clubs have imposed fines for plucking the Edelweiss, and the Austrian Alpine Club has forbidden its members to continue the custom of wearing a sprig of Edelweiss in their hats.——The worst persecutors of the plant are the picturesque Bergano herdsmen and herdboys, who come up from the Italian side of the Alps at the beginning of the season, and remain on the mountains with their flocks until the snow begins to fall. They pluck up the Edelweiss mercilessly by the roots, which they endeavour to dispose of to passing travellers. The Communes of the Upper Engadine have taken the plant under their protection, and sellers of the plant in its living condition are subject to a fine. The Edelweiss, however, is plentiful still in tracts a little out of the orthodox tourists’ routes, and at Pontresina grows in such profusion as to be used as food for cattle. The Edelweiss is also known by the name of the Cotonnier, and is sometimes called Lion’s-foot, because of the resemblance of its woolly hairy flower to the foot of a lion.

EGG PLANT.—The Solanum Melongena has derived the name of Egg Plant from the shape of its fruit, which is formed like a hen’s egg, and varies in colour from white to pale yellow, pale red, and purple. In the East Indies, they broil this fruit, and eat it with pepper and salt, and the fruit is also relished in Batavia, Greece, Barbary, and Turkey. The inhabitants of the British isles in the West Indies call it Brown-John or Brown-jolly. Miller calls the plant the larger-fruited Nightshade, and says that in his time it was cultivated in the gardens of Spain by the title of Barenkeena. The Italians call it Melanzana, a corruption of the plant’s ancient Latin name of Mala insana, from whence also came its old English name of Raging Apple or Mad Apple. There does not appear to be any reason for these strange names, although Gerarde cautiously remarks that “doubtless these Apples have a mischievous qualitie, the use whereof is utterly to bee forsaken.”

EGLANTINE.—The Sweet Briar (Rosa rubiginosa) is generally understood to be the Eglantine of old English poets, although the name has given rise to much discussion, both as to its meaning, and as to the shrub to which it applies. Chaucer and more ancient poets spelt the word “Eglatere.”

“The hegge also, that yede in compas,
And closed in all the greene herbere,
With Sicamour was set and Eglatere.”

But it seems doubtful whether by Eglatere was meant the Yellow Rose (Eglanteria), the Sweetbriar, the Dog Rose, or some other species. According to Gerarde, it was a shrub with a white flower. Shakspeare, Spenser, Shenstone, Sir W. Scott, Keats, and other poets identify Eglantine with Sweetbriar; but Milton mistook it for the Honeysuckle or Woodbine, for he speaks of

“Sweetbriar or the Vine,
Or the twisted Eglantine.”

According to a superstition current in Schleswig, when Satan fell from heaven, he endeavoured, in order to reascend to the celestial regions, to make himself a ladder with the thorns of the Eglantine. God, however, would not permit the Eglantine to grow upwards, but only to extend itself as a bush. Then, out of spite, Satan turned its thorns downwards, pointing towards the earth.——Another legend records that Judas Iscariot hung himself on the Eglantine, and that since then it has been an accursed tree: hence to this day its berries are called Judas beeren (Judas berries).——The five graceful fringed leaflets, which form the special beauty of the Eglantine flower and bud, have given rise to the following rhymed riddle:—

“Of us five brothers at the same time born,
Two from our birthday ever beards have worn;
On other two none ever have appeared,
While the fifth brother wears but half a beard.”

ELDER.—The Elder or Ellan-tree (Sambucus), in Scandinavian mythology, was consecrated to Hulda, the goddess of love, and to Thor, the god of Thunder, and is connected with many ancient Northern superstitions.

The Danes believe that in the Elder there dwells a being known as the Hylde-moer (Elder-mother) or Hylde-qvinde (Elder-woman), by whom all injuries done to the Elder are avenged. In a small court in the Nybonder, a district of Copenhagen, there stands a weird tree, which at dusk is reputed to move up and down the passage, and sometimes to peep through the windows at the children. It is not deemed advisable to have furniture made of Elder-wood. Tradition says that a child having been laid in a cradle made of Elder-wood, the Hylde-moer came and pulled it by the legs, nor would she let it have any rest until it was taken out of the cradle. A peasant once heard his children crying in the night, and on inquiring the cause, was told that some one had been there and sucked them; and their breasts were found to be swollen. This annoyance was believed to have arisen, from the fact that the room was boarded with Elder. The Elder branches may not be cut until permission has been asked in the words, “Hylde-moer, Hylde-moer, allow me to cut thy branches.” Then, if no objection be made by the spirit of the tree, the hewer proceeds, taking care first to spit three times, as a precaution against molestation. In Denmark, it is believed that he who stands under an Elder-bush at twelve o’clock on Midsummer Eve, will see Toly, the king of the elves, go by with all his train. Perhaps on account of the supernatural halo surrounding it, the Elder was regarded as a cure for various diseases. A Danish formula prescribes the taking of an Elder-twig by a person afflicted with toothache, who must first put it in his mouth, and then stick it in the wall, saying, “Depart thou evil spirit.” Ague may be cured by taking a twig of Elder, and sticking it in the ground, without speaking a word; the disease will then pass into the twig, and attach itself to the first person who approaches the spot.

In Russia, there is a belief that Elder-trees drive away bad and malignant spirits, out of compassion to humanity, and that they promote long life.

In Sweden, women about to become mothers kiss the Elder; and it is thought that no one can damage the tree with impunity.

In Germany, the Elder is regarded with great respect. From its leaves a febrifuge is made: from its berries a sort of sour preserve, and a wonder-working electuary; the moon-shaped clusters of flowers are narcotic, and are used in baking small cakes. The smell of the leaves and blossoms has the reputation of causing giddiness, whence arises the saying that “he who goes to sleep under an Elder-tree will never wake.” The cross which is affixed to the rod on which the Easter Palms are fastened is made of Elder-wood, as well as the cross which is carried before the coffin in the funeral procession. Although essentially a tree of shade and of death, yet it and the funeral cross just mentioned are known by the name of “Livelong.” It is a favourite hiding-place for children when playing at “hide-and-seek.” The pith of the branches, when cut in round flat shapes, is dipped in oil, lighted, and then put to float in a glass of water; its light on Christmas Eve is thought to reveal to the owner all the witches and sorcerers in the neighbourhood. Since this tree drives away spirits, it is often planted by the side of manure sheds, keeping them damp by its shade, and also protecting from evil influences the cattle in the adjoining shed. It is commonly believed that he who injures an Elder-tree will suffer from its vengeance. “Holderstock” (Elderstock) is a name of endearment given by a lover to his beloved, and is derived from Hulda, the old goddess of love.

In Lower Saxony, it was customary to ask permission of the Elder-tree before cutting it, in the words, “Lady Elder, give me some of thy wood; then will I also give thee some of mine when it grows in the forest.” This was repeated three times, with folded hands and bended knees. Pusch Kait, the ancient Prussian god of the earth, was supposed to live under the Elder-tree.

In the Tyrol, an Elder-bush, trimmed into the form of a cross, is often planted on the new-made grave; and if it blooms, it is a sign that the soul of the dead person is in Paradise. The Tyroleans have such a regard for the tree, that, in passing it, they always raise their hat.

In Bohemia, three spoonfuls of the water which has been used to bathe an invalid are poured under an Elder, with “Elder, God sends me to thee, that thou may’st take my fever upon thee.” This must be repeated on three successive days, and if the patient has not meanwhile passed over water, he will recover.——The Serbs introduce a stick of Elder, to ensure good luck, during their wedding festivities.

In Savoy, branches of Elder are carried about on May-day. In Sicily, it is thought a bough of Elder will kill serpents, and drive away robbers better than any other stick. In Labruguière, France, if an animal is ill, or has a wound infested by vermin, they lead it to the foot of an Elder-tree, and twirling a bough in their hands, they bow to the tree, and address it as follows:—“Good-day, Mons. Yèble; if you do not drive away the vermin, I shall be compelled to cut both your limbs and your trunk.” This ceremony performed, a certain cure is confidently looked for. In the country districts round Valenciennes, if an Elder-bough is hung outside the door, it is indicative of a coquette inhabiting the house.

In England, the Elder has been regarded with superstition from very early times, and is looked upon as a tree of bad omen. Branches of Elder were formerly considered to be typical of disgrace and woe. In the Canones editi sub Edgaro Rege it is enacted that every priest forbid the vain practices that are carried on with Elder-sticks, and also with various other trees.

In Gloucestershire, and some other counties, the peasantry will on no account burn Elder or Ellan-wood, the reason being, that it was supposed to be one of the trees from which the wood of the Cross was formed. In a rare tract on Gloucestershire superstitions, a figure is given of an Elder-wood cross borne constantly about the person as a cure for rheumatism. This cross consisted of a small piece cut from a young shoot just above and below a joint, so as to leave the bud projecting at each end of it, after the fashion of a rude cross. To be efficient, the Elder must have grown in consecrated ground. In Tortworth and other Gloucestershire churchyards are to be found such trees, and applications for pieces of them are still made.

In Sussex, an Elder-stick, with three, four, or more knots upon it, is carried in the pocket as a charm against rheumatism.

In the Eastern counties, the Elder is popularly considered to be the tree of whose wood the Cross was made: it is therefore an unlucky tree, and one that should never be bound up in faggots. On this account, also, the Elder is considered safe from the effects of lightning. In some parts there is a vulgar prejudice that if boys be beaten with an Elder-stick, their growth is sure to be checked.

In Huntingdonshire, there exists the Danish belief in a being called the Elder-mother, so that it is not always safe to pluck the flowers. No household furniture should be made of Elder-wood, least of all a cradle, for some evil will certainly befall the child sleeping in it.

The Elder-tree has been credited with possessing a peculiar fascination for witches and elves, who love to lurk beneath the shadow of its branches, and who are wont to bury their offspring at its foot. On the other hand, the tree has been said to exercise a protective influence against the attacks of witches and wizards, and similar evil-disposed persons; and it has been suggested that this is the reason why the tree is so often found in the neighbourhood of cottages. It was thought that the tree was obnoxious to witches because their enemies use the green juice of its inner bark for anointing the eyes. Any baptised person whose eyes are touched with it can see what the witches are about in any part of the world. It was possible by magic art to render witches sensible of blows given to them with an Elder-stick, but this has to be managed by someone versed in the habits of witches. A cross made of the Elder, affixed to cow-houses and stables, was supposed to protect cattle from all possible harm.

Shakspeare, in ‘Love’s Labour Lost,’ says “Judas was hanged on an Elder,” and this belief was general among early writers, and is constantly alluded to by authors of the Elizabethan period; but the name Judas-tree was applied to the Cercis siliquastrum (which is the tree which still bears it), about the same period. Gerarde, indeed, definitely tells us of the Cercis, “This is the tree whereon Judas did hang himselfe, and not upon the Elder-tree, as is stated.” On the other hand, that old Eastern traveller, Sir John Maundevile, tells us that the very Elder-tree upon which Judas hanged himself was to be seen in his day close to the Pool of Siloe; whilst the legend which connects Judas with the Elder-tree is alluded to by Ben Jonson, and is thus referred to in ‘Piers Plowman’:—

“Judas, he japed
With Jewen silver
And sithen on an Eller
Hanged hymselve.”

But not only is the ill-omened Elder credited with being connected with the death of Judas, but there is a wide-spread belief that it was the “accursed tree” on which the Redeemer’s life was given up; therefore, although fuel may be scarce and these sticks plentiful, in some places the superstitious poor will not burn them.——In Scotland, according to a writer in the ‘Dublin Magazine,’ it is called the Bour-tree, and the following rhyme is indicative of the belief entertained in that country:—

“Bour-tree, Bour-tree, crooked rung,
Never straight and never strong,
Ever bush and never tree,
Since our Lord was nailed on thee.”

In Chambers’s ‘Book of Days’ is an instance of the belief that a person is perfectly safe under the shelter of an Elder-tree during a thunderstorm, as the lightning never strikes the tree of which the Cross was made. Experience has taught that this is a fallacy, although many curious exceptional instances are recorded. In Napier’s Folk-lore of the Northern Counties we read of a peculiar custom:—the Elder is planted in the form of a cross upon a newly-made grave, and if it blooms they take it as a sure sign that the soul of the dead person is happy.

It is not considered prudent to sleep under an Elder. Evelyn describes the narcotic smell of the tree as very noxious to the air, and narrates that a certain house in Spain, seated among Elder-trees, diseased and killed almost all the inhabitants, “which, when at last they were grubbed up, became a very wholesome and healthy place.” As regards the medical virtues of the tree, Evelyn exclaims:—“If the medicinal properties of the leaves, bark, berries, &c., were thoroughly known, I cannot tell what our countryman could ail for which he might not fetch a remedy from every hedge, either for sickness or wound.” And he goes on to describe a variety of medicinal uses for the bark, buds, berries, leaves, and flowers; summing up the virtues of the Elder with the remark that “every part of the tree is useful, as may be seen at large in Blockwitzius’s anatomie thereof.” In this work is the following description of an amulet for the use of an epileptic subject, which is to be made of the Elder growing on a Sallow:—“If in the month of October, a little before the full moon, you pluck a twig of the Elder, and cut the cane that is betwixt two of its knees, or knots, in nine pieces, and these pieces, being bound in a piece of linen, be in a thread so hung about the neck that they touch the spoon of the heart, or the sword-formed cartilage; and, that they may stay more firmly in that place, they are to be bound thereon with a linen or leather roller wrapt about the body, till the thread break of itself. The thread being broken, and the roller removed, the amulet is not at all to be touched with bare hands, but it ought to be taken hold on by some instrument, and buried in a place that nobody may touch it.”

One mode of charming warts away is to take an Elder-shoot, and rub it on the part, then cut as many notches on the twig as you have warts, bury it in a place where it will soon decay, and as it rots away the warts will disappear. Another plan is to obtain a green Elder-stick, and rub the warts well with it, after which bury the stick to rot away in muck.

The black berries of the Elder are full of a deep violet-coloured juice, which, according to Virgil, the god Pan had his face smeared with, in compliance with the old Roman custom of painting their gods on solemn occasions.

To dream of Elder-berries denotes sickness. The tree is under the dominion of Venus.

ELECAMPANE.—Of the Elecampane (Inula Helenium), Rapin writes:—

“Elecampane, the beauteous Helen’s flower,
Mingles among the rest her silver store;
Helen, whose charms could royal breasts inspire
With such fierce flames as set the world on fire.”

When Paris carried off the celebrated Helen, the lovely wife of Menelaus was said to have had in her hand a nosegay of the bright yellow flowers of the Elecampane, which was thenceforth named Helenium, in her honour. The Romans employed the roots of Elecampane as an edible vegetable; the monks, who knew it as Inula campana, considered it capable of restoring health to the heart; and the herbalists deemed it marvellously good for many disorders, and admirable as a pectoral medicine. Elecampane lozenges have long been popular. Turner, in his ‘Brittish Physician,’ calls the Inula campana, the Sun-flower, and says that the root chewed fastens loose teeth, and preserves them from rotting, and that the distilled water of the green leaves makes the face fair. From its broad leaves, the Elecampane is sometimes called the Elf-dock.——It is held to be under Mercury.

ELICHRYSUM.—This species of everlasting flower derived its name, according to Themistagoras, from the nymph Elichrysa, who having adorned the goddess Diana with its blossoms, the plant was called after her, Elichryson. Its old English name was Golden Flower, or Golden Moth-wort, and Gerarde tells us that the blossoms, if cut before they are quite ripe, will remain beautiful a long time after. “For which cause of long lasting the images and carved gods were wont to weare garlands thereof: whereupon some have called it ‘God’s floure.’ For which purpose Ptolemy, King of Ægypt, did most diligently observe them, as Pliny writeth.”

ELM.—The ancients had a tradition that, at the first sound of the plaintive strains which proceeded from the lyre of Orpheus, when he was lamenting the death of Eurydice, there sprang up a forest of Elms; and it was beneath an Elm that the Thracian bard sought repose after his unavailing expedition to the infernal regions to recover his lost love. Rapin thus tells the tale:—

“When wretched Orpheus left the Stygian coast,
Now hopeless since again his spouse was lost,
Beneath the preferable shade he sate
Of a tall Elm, and mourned his cruel fate:
Where Rhodope rears high her steepy brow,
While Heber’s gentle current strays below.
On his sweet lyre the skilful artist played,
Whose all-commanding strings the woods obeyed;
And crowding round him formed a hasty shade.
There Cypress, Ilex, Willows, Planes unite,
And th’ Elm, ambitious of a greater height,
Presents before his view a married Vine,
Which round her husband, Elm, did circling twine,
And warned him to indulge a second flame;
But he neglects th’ advice, and slights the dame:
By fatal coldness still condemned to prove
A victim to the rage of female love.”

The “wedding of the Elm to the Vine,” alluded to in the above lines, was a very favourite topic among the old Roman poets; Virgil, indeed, selects the junction of the Elm and the Vine as the subject of one whole book of his ‘Georgics.’ The ancients twined their Vines round the trunks of the Elm; and the owner of a Vineyard tended his Elms as carefully as his Vines.——When Achilles killed the father of Andromache, he erected in his honour a tomb, around which nymphs came and planted Elms.——Perhaps on account of its longevity, or because it produces no fruit, the Greeks and Romans considered the Elm a funereal tree: in our own times, it is connected with burials, inasmuch as coffins are generally made of its wood.——The ancients called the Elm, the tree of Oneiros, or of Morpheus, the god of sleep. As a widespreading shady tree, it is selected by Virgil (Æn. vi.) as the roosting-place of dreams in gloomy Orcus:—

“Full in the midst a spreading Elm displayed
His aged arms, and cast a mighty shade;
Each trembling leaf with some light visions teems,
And heaves impregnated with airy dreams.”

It was in connection with the title of Tree of Dreams (Ulmus Somnorum), that the Elm became, like the Oak, a prophetic tree.——On the Continent, an Elm is often found on the village-green, beneath whose boughs justice used formerly to be administered, and meetings held: there was one at Gisors, on the frontier of Normandy, where the kings of France and Dukes of Normandy used to hold conference together, and which was large enough to shelter both their trains; this tree was upwards of two hundred years old when cut down by order of King Philippe Auguste, out of hatred to our Plantagenet kings. One of the oldest Elms in England is a stump at Richmond, now fenced in, and covered with Ivy, which was planted by Queen Elizabeth herself, and has on that account always been known as the Queen’s Elm.——Formerly the leafing of the Elm was made to regulate both field and garden work, as seen in the following rustic rhyme:—

“When the Elmen leaf is as big as a mouse’s ear,
Then to sow Barley never fear.
When the Elmen leaf is as big as an ox’s eye,
Then say I, ‘Hie, boys, hie!’”

In olden times, the falling of the leaves of an Elm was thought to prognosticate a murrain. In Sicily, they have a custom of binding the trunk of a Fig-tree with branches of Elm, from a belief that they would prevent the young Figs from falling before they became thoroughly ripe.——The Elm is held to be under the influence of Saturn.——“The Seven Sisters” was the name bestowed on seven Elm-trees at Tottenham, which gave the name to the road from thence to Upper Holloway. In Bedwell’s History of Tottenham, written in the year 1631, he describes Page Green by the side of the high road at that village, and a group of Elms in a circle, with a Walnut in the centre. He says: “This tree hath this many yeares stod there, and it is observed yearely to live and beare leavs, and yet to stand at a stay, that is, to growe neither greater or higher. This people do commonly tell the reason to bee, for that there was one burnt upon that place for the profession of the Gospell.” There was also a connecting link between the Walnut-tree and the Seven Sisters, by which it was surrounded. There were seven Elms planted by seven sisters respectively. The tree planted by the smallest of the sisters was always irregular and stunted in growth. There was an eighth sister who planted an Elm in the midst of the other seven, and the legend relates that it withered and died when she died, and that then a Walnut-tree grew in its place. The Walnut-tree has long since gone, and probably the Elms have now disappeared.

ENCHANTER’S NIGHTSHADE.—Formerly the Atropa Mandragora used to bear this name, but by some mistake it has been transferred to the Circæa Lutetiana, an insignificant plant named after Circe, the famed enchantress, probably because its fruit, being covered with hooked prickles, lays hold of the unwary passers-by, as Circe is said to have done by means of her enchantments. The Mandrake was called “Nightshade,” from having been classed with the Solanum tribe, and “Enchanter’s” from its Latin name Circæa, a name which it obtained, according to Dioscorides, because Circe, who was expert in herbal lore, used it as a tempting powder in amorous concerns.

ENDIVE.—The Endive or Succory (Cichorium) is, according to the oldest Greek Alexandrian translations of the Bible, one of the “bitter herbs” which the Almighty commanded the Israelites to eat with the lamb at the institution of the Feast of the Passover. The garden Endive (C. Endivia) is probably the plant celebrated by Horace as forming a part of his simple diet: its leaves are used in salads, and its root, under the name of Chicory, is extensively used to mingle with Coffee. Immense quantities of Endive were used by the ancient Egyptians, who called it Chicouryeh, and from this word is derived the generic name Cichorium.——The wild Succory (C. Intybus) opens its petals at 8 a.m., and closes them at 4 p.m.

“On upland slopes the shepherds mark
The hour when, to the dial true,
Cichorium to the towering lark
Lifts her soft eye, serenely blue.”

The Germans say that once upon a time the Endives were men under a ban. The blue flowers, which are plentiful, were good men; the white flowers, much rarer, were evil-doers.——The blue star-like blossom is a most popular flower in Germany: it is the Wegewarte—the watcher of the roads; the Wegeleuchte, or lighter of the road; the Sonnenwende, or Solstice; the Sonnenkraut, or herb of the sun; and the Verfluchte Jungfer, or accursed maiden. An ancient ballad of Austrian Silesia recounts the history of a young girl who for seven years mourned for her lover, fallen in the wars. When her friends wished to console her, and to procure for her another lover, she replied: “I shall cease to weep only when I become a wild flower by the wayside.”——Another version of the German legend is that a loving maiden anxiously expected the return of her betrothed from a voyage upon which he had long since set out. Every morning she paced the road where she had last bade adieu to him; every evening she returned. Thus she wearily passed her time during many a long month. At last, utterly worn out with watching and waiting, she sank exhausted by the wayside, and, broken-hearted, expired. On the spot where she breathed her last sigh sprang up a little pale flower which was the Wegewarte, the watcher of the road.——In Bavaria, the same legend is met with, differing only in details. A young and beautiful princess was abandoned by her husband, a young prince of extraordinary beauty. Grief exhausted her strength, and finding herself on the point of death, she exclaimed: “Ah, how willingly would I die if I could only be sure of seeing my loved one, wherever I may be. Her ladies-in-waiting, hearing her desire, solemnly added: “And we also would willingly die if only we were assured that he would always see us on every roadside.” The merciful God heard from heaven their heart-felt desires, and granted them. “Happily,” said He, “your wishes can be fulfilled; I will change you into flowers. You, Princess, you shall remain with your white mantle on every road traversed by your husband; you, young women, shall remain by the roadside, habited in blue, so that the prince must see you everywhere.” Hence the Germans call the wild Succory, Wegewarten.——Gerarde tells us that Placentinus and Crescentius termed the Endive, Sponsa solis, Spouse of the Sun (a name applied by Porta to the Heliotrope), and we find in De Gubernatis’ Mythologie des Plantes, the following passage:—“Professor Mannhardt quotes the charming Roumanian ballad, in which is recounted how the Sun asked in marriage a beautiful woman known as Domna Florilor, or the Lady of the Flowers; she refused him, whereupon the Sun, in revenge, transformed her into the Endive, condemned for ever to gaze on the Sun as soon as he appears on the horizon, and to close her petals in sadness as the luminary disappears. The name of Domna Florilor, a kind of Flora, given by the Roumanians to the woman loved by the Sun, reminds us somewhat of the name of Fioraliso, given in Italy to the Cornflower, and which I supposed to have represented the Sun. The Roumanian legend has, without doubt, been derived from an Italian source, in its turn a development of a Grecian myth—to wit, the amour of the Sun, Phœbus, with the lovely nymph Clytie.” (See Heliotrope).——There is a Silesian fairy tale which has reference to the Endive:—The magician Batu had a daughter named Czekanka, who loved the youthful Wrawanec; but a cruel rival slew the beloved one. In despair, Czekanka sought her lover’s tomb, and killed herself beside it. Whilst in her death throes, she was changed into the blue Succory, and gave the flower its Silesian name Czekanka. Wrawanec’s murderer, jealous of poor Czekanka, even after her death, threw on the plant a swarm of ants, in the hope that the little insects might destroy the Succory, but the ants, on the contrary, in their rage, set off in pursuit of the murderer, and so vigorously attacked him, that he was precipitated into a crevasse on the mountain Kotancz.——In Germany and in Rome, where a variety of estimable qualities are ascribed to the plant, they sell Endive-seed as a panacea, but especially as a love philtre. They would not uproot it with the hand, but with a bit of gold or a stag’s horn (which symbolise the disk and the rays of the Sun), on one of the days of the Apostles (June 29th and July 25th). A girl thus uprooting an Endive will be assured of the constancy of her lover.——Endive, carried on the person, is supposed to enable a lover to inspire the object of his affections with a belief that he possesses all the good qualities she could wish for. Endive-root breaks all bonds, removes thorns from the flesh, and even renders the owner invisible.——The herb is held to be under the rule of Venus.

ERAGROSTIS.—Among the Hindus, the Eragrostis cynosuroides is considered a sacred Grass, and is employed by them for strewing the floors of their temples. In England, it is known as Love Grass.

ERYSIMUM.—The Hedge Mustard, Bank Cress, or Jack-by-the-Hedge (Erysimum Barbarea) is called by the French St. Barbara’s Hedge Mustard and the Singer’s Plant (herbe au chantre), and up to the time of Louis XIV. was considered an infallible remedy in cases of loss of voice. Racine, writing to Boileau, recommended the syrup of Erysimum to him when visiting the waters of Bourbonne, in order to be cured of loss of voice. Boileau replied that he had heard the best accounts of the Erysimum, and that he meant to use it the following summer.——The plant is held to be under Mercury.

ERYNGO.—The Sea Eryngo (Eryngium maritimum) is, perhaps, better known by the name of Sea Holly, which has been given it on account of the striking resemblance of its foliage to the Holly. According to Rapin, Eryngo possessed magical properties, inasmuch as, if worn by young married women, it ensured the fidelity of their husbands. On this account, Sappho employed it to secure the love of Phaon, the handsome boatman of Mitylene, for whom the poetess had conceived so violent a passion, that at length, mortified at his coldness, she threw herself into the sea. Rapin says:—

“Grecian Eryngoes now commence their fame,
Which, worn by brides, will fix their husband’s flame,
And check the conquests of a rival dame.
Thus Sappho charmed her Phaon, and did prove
(If there be truth in verse) his faith in love.”

Plutarch records that, if one goat took the herb Sea Holly into her mouth, “it caused her first to stand still, and afterwards the whole flock, until such time as the shepherd took it from her mouth.” Eryngo-root was formerly much prized as a tonic, and in Queen Elizabeth’s time, when prepared with sugar, was called Kissing Comfits. Lord Bacon, recommending the yolks of eggs as very nourishing, when taken with Malmsey or sweet wine, says: “You shall doe well to put in some few slices of Eringium-roots, and a little Amber-grice, for by this meanes, besides the immediate facultie of nourishment, such drinke will strengthen the back.”

EUGENIA.—In Burmah, the Eugenia is regarded as a sacred plant. When a spray is cut, prayers and supplications for absent friends and relatives are offered up before it, and twigs and leaves of it are kept in consecrated water in almost every house, and occasionally the different apartments are sprinkled with it as a protective against ghosts, ogres, and evil spirits. The twigs of Eugenia are sometimes hung about the eaves, and in many cases a small plant is kept growing in a pot in the house, so that its benign influence may keep harm away.——In cases of cholera epidemic, the natives of the affected district betake themselves to a Buddhist monastery, carrying presents and a small pot partly filled with water, and containing leaves of a species of Eugenia (Tha-byay-bin), and some coarse yellow string wound round a small stick. These pots are blessed by the Buddhist abbot, and are then taken away by the people, who either hang up the yellow string in little bags round the eaves of their houses, or else wear it coiled round the left wrist. The pots of water and sprigs of Eugenia are kept in the house to guard it from infection.

EUPATORIUM.—Agrimony has derived its name of Eupatorium from Mithridates Eupator, King of Pontus, who was skilled in botany and physic, and used this plant as an antidote against the poison with which his enemies at court attempted to destroy him. E. Ayapana, a native of Brazil, has long been famed for curing the bites of serpents, and its leaves, when fresh bruised, are useful when applied to the face of ulcers.——In Italy and Russia, magical properties are attributed to this plant.

EUPHORBIA.—The Euphorbia or Medusa Head possesses the peculiar property of blooming in warm water after apparent death. The milky juice of Euphorbia Canariensis, and some other species of Spurge, produces the drug Euphorbium. The juice of E. heptagona furnishes the Ethiopians with a deadly poison for their arrows. At Bodo, in India, before the doorway of every house is cultivated a plant of the sacred Sidj, a species of Euphorbia, which is looked upon both as the domestic and national divinity, and to this plant the natives address their prayers and offer up hogs as sacrifices.

EVERLASTING FLOWERS.—Writing of the Gnaphalium Alpinum, Gerarde tells us that in his day English women called it “Live-long,” or “Live-for-ever.” From hence has originated the name Everlasting, applied to the genus Gnaphalium. The ancients crowned the images of their gods with garlands made of these flowers, and from this circumstance they were frequently called God’s flowers. In Spain and Portugal, they are still used to decorate the altars and the images of the saints. The French have named the Gnaphalium, Immortelle, and employ it in the manufacture of the garlands and devices which they place on their coffins and graves. Old writers call the plant Cudweed, Cottonweed, Gold-flower, Goldilocks, Golden Stœchas, and Golden-flower Gentle. One species has obtained the name of Herba Impia, because the later flowers grow higher, and, as Gerarde says, “overtop those that come first, as many wicked children do unto their parents.”

EYEBRIGHT.—The Eyebright or Euphrasy (Euphrasia officinalis) was formerly called Euphrosyne, after one of the Graces. This name became subsequently corrupted to Euphrasy. The plant was also known as Ocularis and Ophthalmica, on account of its use in the treatment of disorders of the eye. According to Coles, it obtained the name of Eyebright from its being employed by the linnet to clear its sight; other old authors also say that birds made use of it to repair their vision. Arnoldus affirms that the plant restored sight to people who had been blind a long while; and Gerarde says that, taken either alone or in any other way, it preserves the sight, and, “being feeble and lost, it restores the same: it is given most fitly being beaten into pouder; oftentimes a like quantitie of Fennell-seed is added thereto, and a little Mace, to the which is put so much sugar as the weight of them all commeth to.” It was also believed to comfort the memory, and assist a weak brain. Milton, Drayton, Shenstone, and other poets have celebrated the powers of Euphrasy, and we find Spenser writing:—

“Yet Euphrasie may not be left unsung,
That gives dim eyes to wander leagues around.”

Astrologers state that the Eyebright is under the sign of the Lion, and the Sun claims dominion over it.

FAIR MAIDS.—Fair Maids of February are Snowdrops, so called from their delicate white blossoms opening about the second of that month, when it was customary for maidens, dressed in white, to walk in procession at the Feast of the Purification. Fair Maids of France are double Crowfoots, or a particular variety, originally introduced from France, viz., Ranunculus aconitifolius.

FELDWODE.—Medea, the enchantress, is said by Gower to have employed a certain herb, Feldwode:—

“Tho toke she Feldwode and Verveine,
Of herbes ben nought better tweine.”

This herb is generally supposed to have been the yellow Gentian, or Baldmoney, Gentiana lutea. (See Gentian.)

FENNEL.—Fenckle, or Fennel (Fœniculum), was employed by the ancients in the composition of wreaths, to be worn by victors after the games in the arena. The gladiators mixed this plant with their food to increase their strength. The god Sylvanus was sometimes crowned with Fennel.——In later times, Fennel was strewn across the pathway of newly-married couples, and was generally liked for its odour; thus Ophelia says: “There’s Fennel for you, and Columbine.”——Pliny records that serpents are wonderfully fond of this plant, inasmuch as it restores them to youth by causing them to cast their old skin, and by its use they recover their sight if it becomes dim. Gerarde says, that the seed “drunke for certaine daies together, fasting, preserveth the eyesight, whereof was written this distichon following:—

“Fœniculum, Rosa, Verbena, Chelidonia, Ruta,
Ex his fit aqua quæ lumina reddit acuta.
“Of Fennell, Roses, Vervain, Rue, and Celandine,
Is made a water, good to cheere the sight of eine.”

The ancients believed that the use of Fennel gave strength to the constitution, and made fat people grow lean. The roots of Fennel, pounded with honey, were considered a remedy for the bites of mad dogs.——Fennel is one of the numerous plants dedicated to St. John, and was formerly hung over doors and windows on his vigil.——Astrologers state it is a herb of Mercury under Virgo.

FERN.—Among Celtic and Germanic nations the Fern was formerly considered a sacred and auspicious plant. Its luck-bringing power was not confined to one species, but belonged to the tribe in general, dwelling, however, in the fullest perfection in the seed, the possessor of which could wish what he would, and the Devil would be obliged to bring it to him. In Swabia, they say that Fern-seed brought by the Devil between eleven and twelve on Christmas night enables a man to do as much work as twenty or thirty ordinary men.

In mediæval days, when sorcery flourished, it was thought the Fern-seed imparted to its owner the power of resisting magical charms and incantations. The ancients believed that the Fern had no seeds, but our ancestors thought it had seed which was invisible. Hence, after the fantastic doctrine of signatures, they concluded that those who possessed the secret of wearing this seed about them would become invisible. Thus, we find that, in Shakspeare’s ‘Henry IV.,’ Gadshill says: “We steal as in a castle, cock-sure: we have the receipt of Fern-seed, we walk invisible.”

The people of Westphalia are wont to relate how one of their countrymen chanced one Midsummer night to be looking for a foal he had lost, and passing through a meadow just as the Fern-seed was ripening, some of it fell into his shoes. In the morning he went home, walked into the sitting-room, and sat down, but thought it strange that neither his wife, nor indeed any of his family, took the slightest notice of him. “I have not found the foal,” said he. Everybody in the room started and gazed around with scared looks, for they had heard the man’s voice, but saw no one. Thinking that he was joking, and had hid himself, his wife called him by his name. Thereupon he stood up, planted himself in the middle of the floor, and said, “Why do you call me? Here I am right before you.” Then they were more frightened than ever, for they had heard him stand up and walk, and still they could not see him. The man now became aware that he was invisible, and a thought struck him that possibly he might have got Fern-seed in his shoes, for he felt as if there was sand in them. So he took them off, and shook out the Fern-seed, and as he did so he became visible again to everybody.

A belief in the mystic power of Fern-seed to make the gatherer walk invisible is still extant. The English tradition is, that the Fern blooms and seeds only at twelve o’clock on Midsummer night—St. John’s Eve—just at the precise moment at which the Saint was born—

“But on St. John’s mysterious night,
Sacred to many a wizard spell,
The hour when first to human sight
Confest, the mystic Fern-seed fell.”

In Dr. Jackson’s Works (1673) we read that he once questioned one of his parishioners as to what he saw or heard when he watched the falling of the Fern-seed, whereupon the man informed him that this good seed is in the keeping of Oberon (or Elberich), King of the Fairies, who would never harm anyone watching it. He then said to the worthy doctor, “Sir, you are a scholar, and I am none. Tell me, what said the angel to our Lady; or what conference had our Lady with her cousin Elizabeth, concerning the birth of St. John the Baptist?” Finding Doctor Jackson unable to answer him, he told him that “the angel did foretell John Baptist should be born at that very instant in which the Fern-seed—at other times invisible—did fall: intimating further that this saint of God had some extraordinary vertue from the time or circumstance of his birth.”

To catch the wonder-working seed, twelve pewter plates must be taken to the spot where the Fern grows: the seed, it is affirmed, will pass through eleven of the plates, and rest upon the twelfth. This is one account: another says that Midsummer night is the most propitious time to procure the mystic Fern-seed, but that the seeker must go bare-footed, and in his shirt, and be in a religious state of mind.

In ancient days it was thought the demons watched to convey away the Fern-seed as it fell ere anyone could possess themselves of it. A writer on Brittany states that he remembers to have heard recounted by one who had gathered Fern-seed, that whilst he was prosecuting his search the spirits grazed his ears, whistling past them like bullets, knocking off his hat, and hitting him with it all over his body. At last, when he thought that he had gathered enough of the mystic seed, he opened the case he had been putting it into, and lo! it was empty. The Devil had evidently had the best of it.

M. Marmier, in his Légendes des Plantes, writes:—“It is on Midsummer night that you should go and seek the Fern-seed: he who is fortunate enough to find it will indeed be happy. He will have the strength of twenty men, he will discover precious metals in the bowels of the earth, he will comprehend the present and the future. Up to the present time, however, no one has been able to secure this precious seed. It ripens but for a minute, and the Devil guards it with ferocious vigilance.”

De Gubernatis, in his Mythologie des Plantes, publishes a communication sent him by the Princess Marie Galitzin Prazorovskaïa, on the subject of the flowering of the Fern, the details of which she obtained from a Russian peasant. “On Midsummer night, before twelve o’clock, with a white napkin, a cross, a Testament, a glass of water, and a watch, one seeks in the forest the spot where the Fern grows; one traces with the cross a large circle; one spreads the napkin, placing on the cross the Testament and the glass of water. Then one attentively looks at one’s watch: at the precise midnight hour the Fern will bloom: one watches attentively; for he who shall see the Fern-seed drop shall at the same time see many other marvels; for example, three suns, and a full moon, which reveals every object, even the most hidden. One hears laughter; one is conscious of being called; if one remains quiet one will hear all that is happening in the world, and all that is going to happen.”

In a work by Markevic, the author says:—“The Fern flowers on Midsummer night at twelve o’clock, and drives away all unclean spirits. First of all it put forth buds, which afterwards expand, then open, and finally change into flowers of a dark red hue. At midnight, the flower opens to its fullest extent, and illuminates everything around. But at that precise moment a demon plucks it from its stalk. Whoever wishes to procure this flower must be in the forest before midnight, locate himself near the Fern, and trace a circle around it. When the Devil approaches and calls, feigning the voice of a parent, sweetheart, &c., no attention must be paid, nor must the head be turned, for if it is, it will remain so. Whoever becomes the happy possessor of the flower has nothing to fear: by its means he can recover lost treasure, become invisible, rule on earth and under water, and defy the Devil. To discover hidden treasure, it is only necessary to throw the flower in the air: if it turns like a star above the Sun, so that it falls perpendicularly in the same spot, it is a sure indication that treasure is concealed there.”

A very ancient method prescribed for obtaining the mystic Fern-seed is given by Dr. Kuhn. At the Summer solstice, if you shoot at the Sun when it has attained its mid-day height, three drops of blood will fall: they must be gathered up and preserved, for that is the Fern-seed.

The Franche-Comté peasantry talk of a mysterious plant that misleads travellers. According to a German authority, this plant is no other than the Fern on Midsummer night. As we have seen, on that night the Fern is reputed to flower, and to let fall its seed: he who secures this seed, becomes invisible; but if the unsuspecting traveller passes by the Fern without noticing it, he will be assuredly misled, even although well acquainted with the road. This is the reason why, in Thuringia, they call the Fern Irrkraut, the misleading plant.

In Poland, there is a popular notion that the plucking of Fern produces a violent thunderstorm.

In Germany, they call the Fern Walpurgiskraut, the superstition being that, on the Walpurgisnacht, the witches procure this plant in order to render themselves invisible. In Lombardy, there exists a popular superstition akin to this. The witches, they say, are particularly fond of the Fern; they gathered it to rub in their hands during a hailstorm, turning it from the side where the hail falls the thickest.

The root of the common Male Fern (Filix mas), was an important ingredient in the love-philtres of former days. An old Gaelic bard sings:—

“’Twas the maiden’s matchless beauty
That drew my heart anigh;
Not the Fern-root potion,
But the glance of her blue eye.”

In olden times the young scroll-like fronds of this Fern were called Lucky Hands, or St. John’s Hands, and were believed to protect the possessor from sorcery, witches’ spells, and the Evil Eye. In Germany, the Male Fern was formerly called Johanniswurtzel; and both on the Continent, and in England, it was the custom, on Midsummer Eve, to gather this Fern, which was sold to the credulous, who wore it about their persons, and mingled it with the water drunk by their cows, as a protection against all evil spirits, and to ensure good luck. It is believed, in Thuringia, that if anyone carries Fern about him, he will be pursued by serpents until he throws it away. In Sweden, the plant is called Snake-bane.

An ancient notion prevailed, that the Male Fern had an antipathy to the Reed; and that where one grew, the other was sure to be absent. According to Dioscorides, “the root hereof is reported to be good for those that have ill spleens; and being stamped with swine’s grease and applied, it is a remedy against the pricking of the Reed.” Other old herbalists state, that the roots of the Male Fern, and the Lady Fern (Filix fœmina), boiled in oil, produced “very profitable ointments to heal wounds.” The Ophioglossum had, in olden times, the reputation of being a cure for the bite of serpents. (See also Bracken).

According to Cornish fairy mythology, the Fern was connected with the Small Folk, who are believed to be the spirits of the people who inhabited Cornwall thousands of years ago—long before the birth of Christ. In the legend of the Fairy Widower, a pretty girl, Jenny Permuen, a village coquette, one day set off to “look for a place.” At the junction of four cross roads, she sat down on a boulder of granite, and thoughtlessly began to break off the beautiful fronds of Ferns which grew all around. Suddenly a young man appeared before her, and addressing her by name, enquired what brought her there. Jenny replied that she wished to obtain a situation, and was on her road to the market town. The young man said he was a widower, and in want of a young woman to take care of his little son; and that as he liked Jenny’s good looks, he would engage her there and then for a year and a day, and pay her well; but that he should require her to swear his oath, which consisted in kissing a Fern-leaf, and repeating the formula:—

“For a year and a day,
I promise to stay.”

Jenny was charmed and flattered; all sorts of visions rose before her eyes, and, without hesitation, she took the oath and followed the stranger eastward. In silence the pair walked on, until the girl was quite weary; then they sat down on a bank, and the young man taking a bunch of leaves passed them rapidly over Jenny’s eyes: her weariness departed as if by magic, and she found herself in fairy-land, with her mysterious master. He led her to a splendid mansion, and introduced her to his little boy, who was so beautiful that he instantly won her love. The girl continued at her duties in fairy-land for the allotted time; then, one morning, upon awaking, she found herself sleeping in her own bed in her mother’s cottage; and the old gossips of the village, upon hearing her story, knew that she had been carried by the Small People to some of their countries under the hills.

FIG.—There are several mythological accounts of the origin of the Fig. According to one, Lyceus, one of the Titans, pursued by Jupiter, was metamorphosed into a Fig-tree by the goddess Rhea. Another story attributes to her husband, Saturn, the origin of the Fig-tree, and on this account the inhabitants of Cyrene deck the statue of the god with crowns of Figs. A third myth relates that the Fig-tree is the offspring of the loves of Oxylus, King of Elis, with a Hamadryad. Bacchus, however, was generally considered to have introduced the Fig to mortals: hence the tree was sacred to him, and he is often represented as crowned with Fig-leaves. On this account, also, it was customary to make an offering of the first Figs to the jovial god. At the Canephoria festivals at Athens, in honour of Bacchus, the female votaries wore round their necks collars composed of dried Figs; and at the Dionysian festivals, a basket of Figs formed a prominent feature in the procession.——At Rome, the Fig was carried next to the Vine in the processions in honour of Bacchus, as the patron of plenty and joy; and Bacchus was supposed to have derived his corpulence and vigour, not from the Vine, but from the Fig. Under the name of the Ficus ruminalis, the Romans jealously guarded the sacred wild Fig-tree, upon the roots of which stranded the cradle containing the infants Romulus and Remus, when the Tiber bore it to the foot of the Palatine. Fig-trees are seldom affected by lightning, but this celebrated Ruminal Fig-tree of Rome was once struck during a thunderstorm, and was ever afterwards held doubly sacred; the ancients considering that lightning purified every object it touched. The Romans bestowed upon Jupiter the surname of Ruminus, because he presided over the nourishment of mankind, and they had a goddess Rumina, who presided over the female breasts, and whose oblations were of milk only. These words are both derived from ruma, a teat; and hence the tree under which Romulus and Remus had been suckled by the she-wolf was the Rumina Ficus, a name most appropriate, because the Fig was the symbol of generation and fecundity. The Fig was consecrated to Juno, as the goddess presiding over marriages and at nuptial festivities. Figs were always carried in a mystic vase. The statues of Priapus, god of orchards, were often made of the wood of the Fig, and the tree was also dedicated to Mercury. Notwithstanding this reverence for the Ficus ruminalis, the Romans considered the Fig a tree at once impure and ill-omened. This is shown by the actions of the Arvales (twelve priests of Rome, descended from the nurse of Romulus), who made special expiations when the Fig-tree—the impure tree—sprang up by chance on the roof of the temple of the goddess Dia, where Vestals officiated. After they had uprooted the desecrating tree, they destroyed the temple as being defiled.——Pausanias relates that, according to an oracle, the Messenians were to be abandoned by heaven in their struggles with the Spartans, so soon as a goat (tragos) should drink the water of the Neda: the Messenians, therefore, drove out of their country all the goats. But in Messenia grew the wild Fig, which was also called tragos. One of these wild Figs having sprung up on the banks of the Neda, its branches soon dipped into the flowing waters of the river beneath it. The oracle was fulfilled—a tragos had drunk the water of the Neda: soon afterwards the Messenians were defeated.——The soothsayer Calchas, according to tradition, owed his death in a measure to the Fig-tree. Challenged by the seer Mopsus, of whom he was jealous, to a trial of their skill in divination, Calchas first asked his antagonist how many Figs a neighbouring tree bore. “Ten thousand except one,” was the reply of his rival, “and one single vessel can contain them all.” The Figs were carefully gathered, and his predictions were literally true. It was then the turn of Mopsus to try his adversary. Calchas failed to answer the question put to him, and Mopsus was adjudged victor. So mortified was Calchas at the result of this trial, that he pined away and died.——The ancient Egyptians held the Fig-leaf sacred to the goddess Isis.——The Fig is supposed to have been the first cultivated fruit tasted by man: beneath the boughs of the Fig-tree Adam hid himself after having eaten the forbidden fruit; with its leaves he endeavoured to hide his nakedness. Cakes of Figs were included in the presents of provisions by which the wife of Nabal appeased the wrath of David (1 Sam. xxv., 18). The want of blossom on the Fig-tree was considered as one of the most grievous calamities by the Jews; for, growing as it did in Palestine on the Vine, the tree became with the Israelites an emblem of peace and plenty, and that security which, in ancient times, was thought to be enjoyed by “every man under his own Fig-tree.” Near the city of On, there was shown for many centuries the sacred Fig-tree under which the Holy Family rested during the flight into Egypt.——St. Augustine tells us, in his Confessions, that while still unconverted and in deep communion with his friend Alypius on the subject of the Scriptures, the contest within his mind was so sharp, that he hastened from the presence of his friend and threw himself down beneath a Fig-tree, weeping and lamenting. Then he heard what seemed the voice of a child proceeding apparently from the tree, repeating again and again “Tolle, lege,” (Take and read); and returning to his friend, he took up the sacred volume, and opened it at St. Paul’s words: “Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ.” He was struck with the coincidence; and considering it a Divine call, he then and there resolved to take up the religious profession.——In India, the Fig-tree is greatly esteemed; one species, Ficus glomerata, is held sacred by the Hindus; and the Ficus Indica, or Banyan-tree, is one of the most highly venerated trees on the earth (see Banyan).——The Andalusians have a saying, “On this life depends,” in connection with the Fig-tree, the fruit of which they eat, fasting, in the morning. The Germans have a proverb, “Figs will not grow either on Brambles or Thistles.” Another proverb tells us that “He who has Figs has riches.”——In Sicily, the Fig-tree is looked upon as a tree of ill-omen. It is there thought to be the tree on which Judas hung himself, and never to have thrived well since that occurrance. There is an old superstition that in each leaf of a Fig-tree lurks an evil spirit; and certain blood-thirsty spectres, called Fauni Ficarii, are mentioned in legends.——At Avola, it is popularly believed to be unwise to sleep beneath the shade of a Fig-tree during the warmth of Summer; should, however, anyone be foolhardy enough to do so, there will appear before him the figure of a nun, holding a knife in her hand, who will compel him to say whether he will take it by the blade or by the handle; if he answer, by the blade, he will be forthwith slain; but should he select the handle, he will have all manner of good fortune in store for him.——In Palermo, they deck the Fig-tree with branches of the wild Fig woven into garlands, in order to ensure the fruit ripening.——A Fig-tree has something to do in the way of preventing hydrophobia, if we may believe the following ancient English superstition:—“For tear of mad hound, take the worms which be under a mad hound’s tongue, snip them away, lead them round about a Fig-tree, give them to him who hath been rent; he will soon be healed.”——To dream of Figs implies an accession of wealth, prosperity, and happiness, the realisation of wishes, and a happy old age.

FILBERT.—John Gower, in his Confessio Amantis, suggests that the origin of the word Filbert is to be sought in the metamorphosis of the Thracian princess Phyllis into a Nut-tree, or, more precisely, into the Almond; this view is strengthened by the fact that the old English names for both tree and nut was Fylberde, or Filberd; although another explanation of this word is that the tree was so called after a King Philibert. In olden times the distinction drawn between nuts of a good and those of the best quality, was by terming the former the short-bearded, and the latter the long-bearded, or full-bearded—whence, according to a popular belief, by corruption, Filbert.——Authorities in dream lore tell us that to dream of Filberts is a happy augury, a sign of good health and happy old age. It also denotes success in love, and happiness in the married state, with a numerous family, who will marry well, and occupy a high place in society.——Filbert-trees are held to be under the dominion of Mercury.

FIR.—The ancient Egyptians adopted the Fir-cone as the symbol of their goddess Isis.——The Fir is the Fire-tree, the most inflammable of woods. Gerarde writes of Firs in Cheshire, Staffordshire, and Lancashire, “where they grew in great plenty, as is reputed, before Noah’s floud; but then being overturned and overwhelmed, have lien since in the woods and waterie moorish grounds, very fresh and sound, untill this day; and so full of a resinous substance, that they burne like a torch or linke, and the inhabitants of those countries do call it Fir-wood and Fire-wood unto this day.”——In the traditions of northern countries, the Fir occupies a similar position to the Pine. He is king of the forest; and so, in Switzerland and the Tyrol, the Geni of the Forest is always represented with an uprooted Fir-tree in his hand. This Geni dwells by preference in the Fir, and especially loves old trees. When one of these trees is cut down, the Geni grieves, and pleads for its life. Old Firs, like old Oaks and Birches, are especially respected when standing solitary.——De Gubernatis relates an anecdote of a colossal Fir-tree which grew by itself, at Tarssok, in Russia. This tree had withstood several lightning-blasts, and was supposed to be several hundred years old, as shown by its barkless trunk and its bare branches. At last, in a gale of wind, it fell; but so great a respect had the country-people for the old tree, that they would not make any profit from the sale of the huge trunk, but presented the proceeds to the Church.——In Denmark, Sweden, Russia, and Germany, they use the Fir as the Christmas-tree, and this custom has now taken firm root in England.——Just as in many parts of Germany, on Christmas-night, they beat trees, so that they may bear fruit, so at Hildesheim in Hanover, at Shrove-tide, the peasantry solicit gifts from the women, whipping them meanwhile with branches of Fir or Rosemary. This curious custom is supposed to signify their desire to have children. In Northern Germany, newly-married couples often carry in their hands branches of Fir, with lighted candles affixed, perhaps in imitation of the Roman fasces. At Weimar, and other places, they plant Fir-trees before the house where a wedding has taken place. In Austrian Silesia, the May-pole is always of Fir. In the Harz, on Midsummer night, they decorate Fir-trees with flowers and coloured eggs, or, more generally, branches of Fir, which they stick in the ground, and dance around, singing the while some verses appropriate to the occasion. In Northern Germany, when they drive the cattle to pasture for the first time, they often decorate the last cow with small boughs of Firs, as showing their wish for a pasturage favourable to the fecundity of the cattle.——From wounds made in the Balm of Gilead Fir (Abies Balsamea), a very fine turpentine is obtained, which is sometimes sold as the true Balm of Gilead.——To dream you are in a forest of Fir-trees is a sign of suffering.——A Moldavian legend relates that, out of envy, the elder sister of a queen changed the two beautiful twin princes she had just given birth to, for two ugly black children, which she placed in their cradle instead. She then buried the young princes alive in the garden, and as soon as possible went to the king, and told him his queen had given birth to two odious black babies. The king in revenge shut up his wife in a dungeon, and made the elder sister his queen. Suddenly, among the flowers of the garden, there spring up two Fir-trees, who, in the evening, talk and confide to each other that they cannot rest whilst their mother is weeping in her lonely dungeon. Then they make themselves known to the poor ex-queen as her children, and tell her how much they love and pity her. Meanwhile the wicked queen awakes one night and listens. She is filled with dread, and makes the king promise that the two Fir-trees shall be cut down. Accordingly, the young trees are felled and thrown into the fire; when, immediately, two bright sparks fly out, and fall far away among the flowers: they are the two young princes, who have again escaped, and who are now determined to bring to light the crime of their detestable aunt. Some time after there is a grand festival at the king’s palace; and a great “claca” (assembly) is gathered there to string pearls for the queen. Among the guests appear two beautiful children, with golden hair, who seem to be twin brothers. Whilst the pearl-stringing goes on, stories are told by the guests, and at last it comes to the turn of the twin brothers, who relate the sad story of the imprisoned queen, and reveal the crime of her sister. As they speak, their pearls continue to string themselves in a miraculous manner, so that the king, observing this, knows that they are telling the truth. When their story is finished, he acknowledges them as his sons, restores their mother to her position as queen, and orders her wicked sister to be torn asunder by wild horses.

Flag.—See Acorus and Iris.

FLAME TREE.—The Nuytsia floribunda, called the Flame or Fire-tree, is a native of West Australia. This tree is most remarkable in many respects: it belongs to the same Natural Order as the Mistletoe—an order numerous in species, most of those inhabiting warm countries having brilliantly-coloured flowers, and, with two exceptions, strictly parasitical on the branches of other trees. One of these exceptions is the Flame-tree; but although Nuytsia floribunda is terrestrial, and has all the aspect of an independent tree, it is thought to be parasitical on the roots of some neighbouring tree or shrub, because all attempts to rear seedlings have proved unsuccessful. Its trunk is soft, like pith, yet it has a massive appearance. Its gorgeous fiery flowers are more brilliant than flames, for they are undimmed by smoke.

FLAX.—There are certain plants which, having been cultivated from time immemorial, are not now to be found in a wild state, and have no particular history. The common Flax (Linum usitatissimum) has been thought to be one of these. Flax is mentioned both in Genesis and Exodus: at least Joseph was clothed in linen, and the Flax was blighted in the fields. But modern research has shown that the Flax of the ancients was Linum angustifolium, the narrow-leaved Flax; and the same fact has been developed in regard to the Flax of the Lake-dwellers in Switzerland.——The fine linen of Egypt is frequently referred to in Scripture, and specimens of this fabric are to be seen in the linen in which the Egyptian mummies are enfolded. That Flax was also grown in ancient times in Palestine, may be inferred from the fact that Rahab hid the Hebrew spies among the Flax spread on her roof.——In the mythology of the North, Flax is supposed to be under the protection of the goddess Hulda, but the plant’s blue blossom is more especially the flower of Bertha, whose blue eyes shine in its calyx, and whose distaff is filled by its fibres.——Indian mysticism likens the grey dawn and the brightening daybreak to luminous linen and its weavers. The celestial bride, Aurora, weaves the nuptial garment—the robe of the celestial bridegroom, the Sun.——The gods attire themselves in luminous robes—white or red, silver or gold. Earthly priests have adopted the white robe in India, Egypt, Asia Minor, Rome, and in all Christian countries. The offspring of the Flax, according to a tradition, represent the rays of the Sun, and clothe the great luminary.——In Sicily, to cure headache produced by exposure to the Sun, they burn, with certain incantations, flaxen tow in a glass, from which they have poured out the water it contained: they then place the glass on a white plate, and the plate on the head of the patient: they contend that by this means they extract from his head, and impart to the Flax, all the virtue of the Sun.——Flax is the symbol of life and of prolific vegetation: on this account, in Germany, when an infant thrives but badly, or does not learn to walk, they place it naked, either in the Spring or on Midsummer-day, upon the turf, and scatter some Flax-seed on this turf and on the infant itself: then, as soon as the Flax commences to grow, the infant should also begin to thrive and to walk.——To dream of Flax is reputed to augur a good and happy marriage; to dream of spinning Flax, however, betokens coming troubles.——There is an old superstition that Flax will only flower at the time of day at which it was originally sown. He who sows it must first seat himself thrice on the sack, turning to the east. Stolen seeds mingled with the rest cause the crop to thrive.——Flax when in bloom acts as a talisman against witchcraft, and sorcery can be practised even with the dry stalks. When the shreds are spun or woven into shirts, under certain incantations, the wearer is secure from accidents or wounds.——It was the goddess Hulda who first taught mortals the art of growing Flax, of spinning, and of weaving it. According to the legendary belief in South Tyrol, she is the especial patroness of the Flax culture in that district. Hulda is also the sovereign of the Selige Fräulein, the happy fairy maidens who keep watch and guard over the Flax-plants. Between Kroppbühl and Unterlassen, is a cave which is believed by the country people to have been the entrance to Queen Hulda’s mountain palace. Twice a year she passed through the valley, scattering blessings around her path—once in Summer, when the blue flowers of the Flax were brightening the fields, and again during the mysterious “twelve nights” immediately preceding our feast of the Epiphany, when, in ancient days, the gods and goddesses were believed to visit the earth. Hulda visited the cottagers’ homes in the Winter nights to examine the distaff. If the Flax was duly spun off, prosperity attended the family; but laziness was punished by trouble and blighted crops. Hulda’s fairy people, the Selige Fräulein, would sometimes visit deserving folks and aid the Flax-spinning: there is a legend that a peasant woman at Vulpera, near Tarash, thinking that she ought to reward her fairy assistants, set before them a sumptuous meal, but they shook their heads sadly, and, giving the poor woman a never-failing ball of cotton, they said, “This is the recompense for thy goodwill—payment for payment,”—and immediately vanished.

FLEA-BANE.—The star-shaped yellow Flea-bane, or wild Marigold (Inula dysenterica), received its name from the belief that its odour was repulsive to fleas, gnats, and other insects. On the flowers of this plant, as well as on those of Agnus Castus, the Grecian women were made to sleep during the feast of Thesmophoria. The Arabs extol this plant highly as a remedy for wounds. One of their traditions records that flowers of the Inula, bruised, were used by the patriarch Job as an application to those grievous sores which he so pathetically laments. Hence the Flea-bane is called by the men of the desert “Job’s Tears.”

FLOS ADONIS.—In most European countries the Flos Adonis (the dark-crimsoned Adonis autumnalis) still retains in its nomenclature a legendary connection with the blood of the unfortunate Adonis, and is called by the Germans Blutströpfchen to the present day.——Just as from the tears of the sorrowing Venus, which fell as she gazed on the bleeding corpse of the beautiful Adonis, there sprang the Anemone, or Wind-flower, so from the blood of the lamented boy which poured forth from the death-wound inflicted by the boar, there proceeded the Adonis-flower, or Flos Adonis. Referring to this, Rapin writes—

“Th’ unhappy fair Adonis likewise flowers,
Whom (once a youth) the Cyprian Queen deplores;
He, though transformed, has beauty still to move
Her admiration, and secure her love;
Since the same crimson blush the flower adorns
Which graced the youth, whose loss the goddess mourns.”

And Shakspeare, in his poem on Venus and Adonis, says—

“By this the boy that by her side lay killed
Was melted like a vapour from her sight;
And in his blood that on the ground lay spilled
A purple flower sprang up, chequered with white,
Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood
Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood.”

FLOWER DE LUCE.—The Iris has obtained this name, which is derived from the French Fleur de Louis, from its having been assumed as his device by Louis VII., of France. This title of Fleur de Louis has been changed to Fleur de Luce, Fleur de Lys, and Fleur de Lis. (See Iris).——A curious superstition exists in the district around Orleans, where a seventh son without a daughter intervening is called a Marcon. It is believed that the Marcon’s body is marked somewhere with a Fleur de Lis, and that if a patient suffering under King’s Evil touch this Fleur de Lis, or if the Marcon breathe upon him, the malady will be sure to disappear.

Flower Gentle, or Floramor.—See Amaranth.

FLOWERS OF HEAVEN.—Under the names of Rain Tremella and Star Jelly is known a strange gelatinous substance, of no precise form, but of a greenish hue, which creeps over gravelly soils, and is found mixed up with wet Mosses on rocks besides waterfalls: when moist, it is soft and pulpy, but in dry weather it becomes thin, brittle, and black in colour. Linnæus called it Tremella Nostoc, but it is now classed with the Algæ Gloiocladeæ under the name of Nostoc commune, a name first used by the alchymist Paracelsus, but the meaning of which is unknown. During the middle ages, some extraordinary superstitions were afloat concerning this plant, which was called Cœlifolium, or Flowers of Heaven. By the alchemists it was considered a universal menstruum. The country people in Germany use it to make their hair grow. In England, the country folk of many parts, firmly believed it to be the remains of a falling star, for after a wet, stormy night, these Flowers of Heaven will often be found growing where they were not to be seen the previous evening.

FLOWERING ROD.—There is a legend in the Apocryphal Gospel of Mary, according to which Joseph was chosen for Mary’s husband because his rod budded into flower, and a dove settled upon the top of it. In pictures of the marriage of Joseph and Mary, the former generally holds the flowering rod. The rod by which the Lord demonstrated that He had chosen Aaron to be His priest, blossomed with Almond-flowers, and was laid up in the Ark (see Almond).

FORGET-ME-NOT.—The Forget-me-not is a name which, like the Gilliflower, has been applied to a variety of plants. For more than two hundred years it was given, in England, France, and the Netherlands, to the ground Pine, Ajuga Chamæpitys. From the middle of the fifteenth century until 1821, this plant was in all the botanical books called Forget-me-not, on account of the nauseous taste which it leaves in the mouth. Some of the old German botanists gave the name Vergiss mein nicht to the Chamædrys vera fœmina, or Teucrium Botrys. Forglemm mig icke, the corresponding Danish name, was given to the Veronica chamædrys. This plant was in English called the Speedwell, from its blossoms falling off and flying away, and “Speedwell” being an old form of leave-taking, equivalent to “Farewell” or “Good-bye.” In the days of chivalry, a plant, whose identity has not been ascertained, was called “Souveigne vous de moy,” and was woven into collars. In 1465, one of these collars was the prize at a famous joust, fought between Lord Scales, brother to Elizabeth Woodville, wife of Edward IV., and a French knight of Burgundy. Certain German botanists, as far back as the sixteenth century, seem, however, to have given the name Forget-me-not to the Myosotis palustris; and this name has become inseparably connected with the flower, borne on the wings of the following poetic legend:—A knight and his lady-love, who were on the eve of being united, whilst strolling on the bank of the blue Danube, saw a spray of these pretty flowers floating on the waters, which seemed ready to carry it away. The affianced bride admired the delicate beauty of the blossoms, and regretted their fatal destiny. At this hint, the lover did not hesitate to plunge into the stream. He soon secured the flowers, but the current was too strong for him, and as it bore him past his despairing mistress, he flung the fatal flowers on the bank, exclaiming, as he was swept to his doom, “Vergiss mich nicht!”

“And the lady fair of the knight so true,
Aye remembered his hapless lot;
And she cherished the flower of brilliant hue,
And braided her hair with the blossoms blue,
And she called it Forget-me-not.”

According to Grimm, the original Forget-me-not was a certain Luck-flower, concerning which there is a favourite legend in Germany (see Key-flower). And there is another traditional origin of the flower, which for antiquity should have the precedence of all others. According to this version, Adam, when he named the plants in Paradise, cautioned them not to forget what he called them. One little flower, however, was heedless, and forgot its name. Ashamed of its inattention and forgetfulness, the flower asked the father of men, “By what name dost thou call me?” “Forget-me-not,” was the reply; and ever since that humble flower has drooped its head in shame and ignominy.——A fourth origin of the name “Forget-me-not” is given by Miss Strickland in her work on the Queens of England. Writing of Henry of Lancaster (afterwards Henry IV.), she says:—“This royal adventurer, the banished and aspiring Lancaster, appears to have been the person who gave to the Myosotis its emblematical and poetical meaning, by writing it, at the period of his exile, on his collar of S.S., with the initial letter of his mot or watchword, Souveigne vous de moy, thus rendering it the symbol of remembrance.” It was with his hostess, at the time wife of the Duke of Bretagne, that Henry exchanged this token of goodwill and remembrance.——The Italians call the Myosotis, Nontiscordar di me, and in one of their ballads represent the flower as the embodiment of the spirit of a young girl who was drowned, and transformed into the Myosotis growing by the river’s banks.——The ancient English name of the Myosotis palustris was Mouse-Ear-Scorpion-Grass; “Mouse-Ear” describing the oval leaves, and “Scorpion” the curve of the one-sided raceme, like a scorpion’s tail.——According to some investigators, the Forget-me-not is the Sun-flower of the classics—the flower into which poor Clytie was metamorphosed—the pale blossom which, says Ovid, held firmly by the root, still turns to the sun she loves. Cæsalpinus called it Heliotropium, and Gerarde figured it as such. (See Heliotrope).——The Germans are fond of planting the Forget-me-not upon their graves, probably on account of its name; for the beauty of the flower is lost if taken far from the water.——It is said that after the battle of Waterloo, an immense quantity of Forget-me-nots sprung up upon different parts of that sanguinary field, the soil of which had been enriched by the blood of heroes.——A writer in ‘All the Year Round’ remarks, that possibly the story of the origin of the Forget-me-not’s sentimental designation may have been in the mind of the Princess Marie of Baden, that Winter day, when, strolling along the banks of the Rhine with her cousin, Louis Napoleon, she inveighed against the degeneracy of modern gallants, vowing they were incapable of emulating the devotion to beauty that characterised the cavaliers of olden times. As they lingered on the causeway-dykes, where the Neckar joins the Rhine, a sudden gust of wind carried away a flower from the hair of the princess, and sent it into the rushing waters. “There!” she exclaimed, “that would be an opportunity for a cavalier of the olden days to show his devotion.” “That’s a challenge, cousin,” retorted Louis Napoleon, and in a second he was battling with the rough waters. He disappeared and reappeared to disappear and reappear again and again, but at length reached the shore safe and sound with his cousin’s flower in his hand. “Take it, Marie,” said he, as he shook himself; “but never again talk to me of your cavalier of the olden time.”

FOXGLOVE.—The name of Digitalis (from digitale, a thimble or finger-stall) was given to the Foxglove in 1542, by Fuchs, who remarks that hitherto the flower had remained unnamed by the Greeks and Romans. Our forefathers sometimes called it the Finger-flower, the Germans named it Fingerhut, and the French Gantelée—names all bestowed on account of the form of the flower, regarding which Cowley fancifully wrote—

“The Foxglove on fair Flora’s hand is worn,
Lest while she gather flowers, she meet a thorn.”

The French also term the Foxglove Gants de Notre Dame and Doigts de la Vierge. Various explanations have been given as to the apparently inappropriate English name of Foxglove, which is, however, derived from the Anglo-Saxon Foxes-glof; and was presumably applied to the flower from some bygone connection it had with the fox, and its resemblance to a glove-finger. Dr. Prior’s explanation is worth quoting, however, if only for its ingenuity. He says: “Its Norwegian names, Rev-bielde, Fox-bell, and Reveleika, Fox-Music, are the only foreign ones that allude to that animal; and they explain our own, as having been, in the first place, foxes-glew, or music (Anglo-Saxon gliew), in reference to a favourite instrument of earlier times, a ring of bells hung on an arched support—a tintinnabulum—which this plant, with its hanging bell-shaped flowers, so exactly represents.”——The Foxglove is the special fairy flower: in its spotted bells the “good folk” delight to nestle. It is called in Ireland, Lusmore, or the Great Herb, and also Fairy-cap—a retreat in which the merry little elves are said to hide themselves when a human foot approaches to disturb their dances. The bending of the plant’s tall stalks is believed to denote the presence of supernatural beings, to whom the flower is making its obeisance. In the Irish legend of Knockgrafton, the hero, a poor hunchback, reputed to have a great knowledge of herbs and charms, always wears a sprig of the Fairy-cap, or Lusmore, in his little straw hat, and hence is nicknamed Lusmore. The Shefro, or gregarious fairy, is represented as wearing the corolla of the Foxglove on his head. Browne describes Pan as seeking these flowers as gloves for his mistress:—

“To keep her slender fingers from the sunne,
Pan through the pastures oftentimes hath runne,
To pluck the speckled Foxgloves from their stem,
And on those fingers neatly placed them.”

In Wales, the bells of the Foxglove are termed Menyg Ellyllon, or goblins’ gloves. No doubt on account of its connection with the fairies, its name has been fancifully thought to have originally been the Fairy Folks’ Glove. The witches are popularly supposed to have held the Foxglove in high favour, and to have decorated their fingers with its largest bells, thence called “Witches’ Bells.”——Beautiful as it is, the Digitalis is a dangerous plant; no animal will touch it, and it exercises a singular influence over mankind: it impedes the circulation of the blood. We read in ‘Time’s Telescope’ for 1822, that the women of the poorer class in Derbyshire indulged in copious draughts of Foxglove-tea, as a cheap means of obtaining the pleasures of intoxication. It produces a great exhilaration of spirits, and has some singular effects on the system.——Robert Turner tells us that the Foxglove is under Venus, and that, in Hampshire, it is “very well known by the name of Poppers, because if you hold the broad end of the flower close between your finger and thumb, and blow at the small head, as into a bladder, till it be full of wind, and then suddenly strike it with your other hand, it will give a great crack or pop.” The Italians call the plant Aralda, and have this proverb concerning it: “Aralda tutte piaghe salda”—“Aralda salveth all sores.” Although containing a poison, the Foxglove yields a medicine valuable in cases of heart-disease, inflammatory fevers, dropsy, &c.

“The Foxglove leaves, with caution given,
Another proof of favouring Heaven
Will happily display.”

FRANGIPANNI.—The Plumieria acuminata, or Frangipanni plant, bears immense clusters of waxy flowers which exhale a most delicious odour: these flowers are white, with a yellow centre, and are flushed with purple behind. The plant is common throughout Malaya, where Mr. Burbidge says it is esteemed by the natives as a suitable decoration for the graves of their friends. Its Malay name, Bunga orang sudah mati, is eminently suggestive of the funereal use to which it is put, and means literally “Dead Man’s Flower.”——Frangipanni powder (spices, Orris-roots, and Musk or Civet) was compounded by one of the Roman nobles, named Frangipanni, an alchymist of some repute, who invented a stomachic, which he named Rosolis, ros-solis, sun-dew. The Frangipanni tart was the invention of the same noble.

FRANKINCENSE.—Leucothea, the daughter of the Persian king Orchamus, attracted the notice of Apollo, who, to woo her, assumed the form and features of her mother. Unable to withstand the god’s “impetuous storm,” Leucothea indulged his love; but Clytia, maddened with jealousy, discovered the intrigue to Orchamus, who, to avenge his stained honour, immured his daughter alive. Apollo, unable to save her from death, sprinkled nectar and ambrosia over her grave, which, penetrating to the lifeless body, changed it into the beautiful tree that bears the Frankincense. Ovid thus describes the nymph’s transformation:—

“What Phœbus could do was by Phœbus done.
Full on her grave with pointed beams he shone.
To pointed beams the gaping earth gave way;
Had the nymph eyes, her eyes had seen the day;
But lifeless now, yet lovely, still she lay.
Not more the god wept when the world was fired,
And in the wreck his blooming boy expired;
The vital flame he strives to light again,
And warm the frozen blood in every vein.
But since resistless fates denied that power,
On the cold nymph he rained a nectar shower.
Ah! undeserving thus, he said, to die,
Yet still in odours thou shalt reach the sky.
The body soon dissolved, and all around
Perfumed with heavenly fragrances the ground.
A sacrifice for gods uprose from thence—
A sweet, delightful tree of Frankincense.”—Eusden.

The tree which thus sprang from poor Leucothea’s remains was a description of Terebinth, now called Boswellia thurifera, which is principally found in Yemen, a part of Arabia. Frankincense is an exudation from this tree, and Pliny tells some marvellous tales respecting its mode of collection, and the difficulties in obtaining it. Frankincense was one of the ingredients with which Moses was instructed to compound the holy incense (Exodus xxx.). The Egyptians made great use of it as a principal ingredient in the perfumes which they so lavishly consumed for religious rites and funeral honours. As an oblation, it was burned on the altars by the priests of Isis, Osiris, and Pasht. At the festivals of Isis an ox was sacrificed filled with Frankincense, Myrrh, and other aromatics. On all the altars erected to the Assyrian gods Baal, Astarte, and Dagon, incense and aromatic gums were burnt in profusion; and we learn from Herodotus that the Arabians alone had to furnish a yearly tribute of one thousand talents of Frankincense.—-Ovid recommends Frankincense as an excellent cosmetic, and says that if it is agreeable to gods, it is no less useful to mortals.——Rapin writes that “Phrygian Frankincense is held divine.”

“In sacred services alone consumed,
And every Temple’s with the smoke perfumed.”

Dr. Birdwood states that there are many varieties of the Frankincense-tree, yielding different qualities of the “lubân” or milky gum which, from time immemorial, has sent up the smoke of sacrifice from high places.——Distinct records have been found of the traffic carried on between Egypt and Arabia in the seventeenth century B.C. In the paintings at Dayr al Báhri, in Upper Egypt, are representations both of bags of Olibanum and of Olibanum-trees in tubs, being conveyed by ships from Arabia to Egypt; and among the inscriptions deciphered by Professor Dümichen are many describing shipments of precious woods, incense, and “verdant incense trees brought among the precious things from the land of Arabia for the majesty of their god Ammon, the lord of the terrestrial thrones.”——The Philistines reverently burnt Frankincense before the fish-god Dagon. In ancient days it was accepted as tribute. Darius, for instance, received from the Arabians an annual tribute of one thousand talents of Frankincense.——When the Magi, or wise men of the East, following the guidance of the miraculous star, reached Bethlehem and paid their homage to the infant Saviour, they made an offering of gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh, by which symbolical oblation they acknowledged Him as King (gold), God (incense), and Man (Myrrh).——The Roman Catholic and Greek churches, especially the churches of South America, consume an immense quantity of Olibanum, as do the Chinese in their joss-houses.

FRAXINELLA.—The Fraxinella (Dictamnus) is deemed a most sacred plant by the fire-worshippers of India, and is highly reverenced by them on account of its singular powers of luminosity. The plant is covered with minute glands which excrete volatile oil: this is continually evaporating from its surface, and forms a highly inflammable atmosphere round the plant. If a light be brought near it, the plant is enveloped by a transient flame, but without sustaining any injury. When gently rubbed, the plant emits a delicious scent, like lemon-peel.

Friar’s Cap.—See Monkshood.

FRITILLARY.—The origin of the Fritillaria, or Crown Imperial, is given by Rapin in the following lines:—

“Then her gay gilded front th’ Imperial Crown
Erects aloft, and with a scornful frown
O’erlooks the subject plants, while humbly they
Wait round, and homage to her highness pay;
High on the summit of her stem arise
Leaves in a verdant tuft of largest size;
Below this tuft the gilded blossoms bent,
Like golden cups reversed, are downwards sent;
But in one view collected they compose
A crown-like form, from whence her name arose.
No flower aspires in pomp and state more high,
Nor, could her odour with her beauty vie,
Would lay a juster claim to majesty.
A Queen she was whom ill report belied,
And a rash husband’s jealousy destroyed;
Driv’n from his bed and court the fields she ranged,
Till spent with grief was to a blossom changed,
Yet only changed as to her human frame:
She kept th’ Imperial beauty and the name;
But the report destroyed her former sweets:
Scandal, though false, the fair thus rudely treats,
And always the most fair with most injustice meets.”

This flower is a native of Persia, and was for some time known as Lilium Persicum. According to Madame de Genlis, it derived its majestic name of Crown Imperial from the celebrated Guirlande de Julie. The Duke de Montausier, on New Year’s Day, 1634, presented his bride, Julie de Rambouillet, with a magnificent album, on the vellum leaves of which were painted a series of flowers, with appropriate verses. The principal poem was by Chapelain, who chose this Persian Lily as his theme, and, knowing the bride to be a great admirer of Gustavus Adolphus, represented in his verses that the flower sprang from the life-blood of the Swedish King when he fell mortally wounded on the field of Lützen; adding that had this hero gained the imperial crown, he would have offered it with his hand to Julie, but as the Fates had metamorphosed him into this flower, it was presented to her under the name of La Couronne Impériale. In later days the flower received the name of Fritillaria (from Fritillus, a dice box, the usual companion of the chequer-board), because its blossoms are chequered with purple and white or yellow.

FUMITORY.—This plant, which Shakspeare alludes to as Fumiter, derived its name from the French Fume-terre, and Latin Fumus terræ, earth-smoke. It was so named from a belief, very generally held in olden times, that it was produced without seed from smoke or vapour rising from the earth. Pliny (who calls it Fumaria) states that the plant took its name from causing the eyes to water when applied to them, as smoke does; but another opinion is that it was so called because a bed of the common kind, when in flower, appears at a distance like a dense smoke. Rapin has these lines on the plant:—

“With the first Spring the soft Fumaria shows
On stern Bavaria’s rocks her sev’ral hues;
But by report is struck by certain fate,
When dreadful thunders echo from their height;
And with the lightning’s sulph’rous fumes opprest,
Her drooping beauties languish on her breast.”

Dioscorides says that the juice dropped into the eyes clears the sight, and also that the juice, having a little gum Arabic dissolved therein, and applied to the eyelids when the hairs have been pulled out, will keep them from growing again.——According to astrologers, Fumitory is a herb of Saturn.

GANG FLOWER.—The Milk-wort, Flos Ambarvalis, Cross-, Procession-, Gang-, or Rogation-Flower (Polygala vulgaris), was so called from its blossoming in Gang-week or Rogation-week, when processions were made in imitation of the ancient Roman Ambarvalia (see Corn), to perambulate the parishes with the Holy Cross and Litanies, to mark boundaries, and to invoke God’s blessing upon the crops; upon which occasions Gerarde tells us “the maidens which use in the countries to walke the procession do make themselves garlands and nosegaies” of the Milk-wort, which the old herbalist likewise informs us is so called on account of its “vertues in procuring milke in the breasts of nurses.”

GARLIC.—The tapering-leaved Garlic (Allium sativum) derives its name from two Anglo-Saxon words, meaning the Spear-plant. The Egyptians so appreciated Garlic, that they were accustomed to swear by it, and even to worship it. Referring to this, Juvenal satirically remarks: “Each clove of Garlic hath a sacred flower.” Nevertheless, no Egyptian priest was permitted to eat Garlic. The Israelites, who had learnt in Egypt to prize this vegetable, murmured at being deprived of its use, and expressed their preference of it to Manna itself.——In Asia Minor, Greece, Scandinavia, and Northern Germany, Garlic is popularly believed to possess magical properties of a beneficent nature. According to the ‘Lay of Sigurdrîfa,’ protection from witchcraft may be ensured by the addition of Garlic to a beverage. The Sanscrit name for Garlic means the Slayer of Monsters. Galen relates that it was considered inimical to all cold poisons, and to the bites of venomous beasts. Macer Floridus affirms that the eating of Garlic fasting ensured immunity from all ills attending change of climate or the drinking of unknown water. The roots, hung round the necks of blind cattle, were supposed to induce restoration of sight. Clusius relates that the German miners found the roots very powerful in defending them from the assaults of impure spirits which frequented mines.——In England, Garlic obtained the name of Poor Man’s Treacle, or Triacle, from its being considered an antidote to animal poison. Bacon tells us that, applied to the wrists, and renewed, Garlic was considered a cure for long agues: in Kent, and probably in other counties, it is placed in the stockings of a child with the whooping-cough, in order to allay the complaint.——De Gubernatis states that the Bolognese regard Garlic as the symbol of abundance; at the festival of St. John, everyone buys it, to preserve themselves from poverty during the year. In Sicily, they put Garlic on the beds of women during confinement, and they make three signs of the cross with it to charm away polypus. In Cuba, thirteen cloves of Garlic at the end of a cord worn round the neck for thirteen days, is considered to safeguard the wearer against the jaundice, provided that, in the middle of the night of the thirteenth day, he proceeds to the corner of two streets, takes off his Garlic necklet, and, flinging it over his head, runs instantly home without turning round to see what has become of it.——The broad-leaved Garlic was formerly called Buckrams, Bear’s Garlic, Ramsies, and Ramsins, the last name being referred to in the proverb—

“Eat Leekes in Lide, and Ramsins in May,
And all the year after physitians may play.”

We read that if a man dream of eating Garlic, it signifies that he will discover hidden secrets, and meet with some domestic jar; yet to dream he has it in the house is lucky.——Garlic is under the dominion of Mars.

Gean.—See Cherry.

GENTIAN.—The Gentian (Gentiana) was so called after Gentius, King of Illyria, who first discovered the medicinal virtues of this bitter plant. Gentius having imprisoned the ambassadors sent to his court by the Romans, they invaded his kingdom, conquered it, and led the royal botanist and his family in triumph through the streets of Rome. The old name of this flower was Gentiana cruciata, and it was also called S. Ladislai Regis herba, in regard to which latter appellation, there is a curious legend:—During the reign of King Ladislas, the whole of Hungary was afflicted with the plague. Compassionating his unfortunate subjects who were dying by thousands, the pious king prayed that if he shot an arrow into the air, the Almighty would vouchsafe to guide it to the root of some herb that might be employed efficaciously in arresting the terrible plague. The king discharged an arrow, and, in falling, it cleft the root of the Cruciata (Gentian), which was at once tried, and found to possess the most astonishing curative powers when administered to sufferers from the plague.——According to old Robert Turner, the herbalist, Gentian, or Felwort, “resists poisons, putrefaction, and the pestilence, and helps digestion; the powder of the dry roots helps bitings of mad dogs and venomous beasts, opens the liver, and procures an appetite. Wine, wherein the herb hath been steept, being drunk, refreshes such as are over-wearied by travel, or are lame in their joynts by cold or bad lodgings.” Gerarde states that it is put into counterpoisons, “as into the composition named Theriaca diatessaron, which Ætius calleth Mysterium, a mystery, or hid secret.” Formerly the names of Baldmoney and Baldmoyne were applied to the Felwort or Gentian. (See Baldmoney and Feldwode.)——Gentian is under the dominion of Mars.

Geranium.—See Crane’s Bill.

Gill.—See Ivy.

GILLIFLOWER.—The appellation of Gilliflower has been applied, apparently as a kind of pet name, to all manner of plants. Formerly the word was spelt gyllofer and gilofre, from the French giroflée and Italian garofalo, words derived from the Latin Caryophyllum and Greek Karuophullon, a Clove, in allusion to the flower’s spicy odour. The name was originally given by the Italians to the Carnation and plants of the Pink tribe, and was so used by Chaucer, Spenser, and Shakspeare. Afterwards both writers and gardeners bestowed the name on the Matthiola and Cheiranthus. At the present time the word has almost fallen out of use, but in books will be found to be applied to the Clove Gilliflower, Dianthus Caryophyllus (the true Gilliflower); the Marsh Gilliflower, or Ragged Robin (Lychnis flos cuculi); Queen’s, Rogue’s, or Winter Gilliflower, the Dame’s Violet (Hesperis matronalis); Stock Gilliflower (Matthiola incana); Wall Gilliflower (Cheiranthus Cheiri); and Water Gilliflower (Hottonia palustris).——The Gilliflower is in old songs represented as one of the flowers thought to grow in Paradise. Thus, in a ballad called ‘Dead Men’s Songs,’ occurs the following verse:—

“The fields about the city faire
Were all with Roses set,
Gillyflowers and Carnations faire
Which canker could not fret.”

(See also Carnation).

GINSENG.—The Chinese consider the far-famed Ginseng (Panax quinquefolia) the most valuable production of nature. It is their specific for all disorders of the lungs or of the stomach, curing asthma, strengthening the eyesight, renewing a worn-out constitution, delaying the approach of old age, and acting as a counterpoison. The Dutch naturalists thus described the Ginseng:—“Its name is taken from its shape, because its represents a man (in Chinese Gin) striding with his legs. It is a larger and stronger species of our Mandrake. The dried root is of a yellow colour, streaked round with blackish veins, as if drawn with ink. It yields when chewed an unpleasant sweetness, mixed with bitterness. The Chinese will give three pounds of gold for one pound of it.” To the Chinese this shrub is in some measure a foreign production, as it is found only in Manchoo Tartary; but it does not owe all its reputation to its distant origin; the Tartars also prize it, and give it a name (Orhota) expressive of its quality as the chief of plants. They endeavour to procure it at the risk of losing their lives or liberty, equally endangered by the nature of the country where it is found, and by the policy of the Chinese Government, which endeavours to monopolise this much-esteemed production. A large extent of country to the north-east of Pekin, covered with inaccessible mountains, and almost impassable forests infested with wild beasts, and affording no means of subsistence, is separated from the province of Leao Tong by a strong barrier of stakes, always carefully protected by guards of Chinese soldiers who seize and punish unlicensed intruders: this is the native country of Ginseng, and these precautions are considered necessary to preserve the valued plant from depredation. The Père Jartoux, who was employed in the survey of Tartary by order of the Emperor Kam-he, describes the mode of gathering the Ginseng, as it was practised at that time. He had frequently met with the party of Tartars employed on the service, but on this occasion ten thousand Tartars were commanded to gather all the Ginseng that could be found; and after deducting two ounces from the quantity gathered by each man, they were allowed for the remainder its weight in pure silver. This army of botanists divided themselves into companies of a hundred men, with a chief to each company. The whole territory was then apportioned to the several divisions; each division formed a line, and, slowly advancing, traversed that portion of country allotted to it; nearly six months were spent in the occupation, and the whole territory was thus searched through. Of the Ginseng thus collected the root is the only part preserved.

GLADIOLUS.—The Corn-flag, or Sword-flag (Gladiolus), has been thought by some to be the flower alluded to by Ovid as the blossom which sprang from the blood of Hyacinthus when he was accidentally slain by Apollo with a quoit—the flower which bears displayed upon its petals the sad impression of the Sun-god’s sighs-Ai, Ai! (See Hyacinth). The upper root of the Sword-flag was supposed by the old herbalists to provoke amatory passions, whilst the lower root was thought to cause barrenness.——The Gladiolus is a plant of the Moon.

GLASTONBURY THORN.—In Loudon’s Arboretum Britannicum, the Glastonbury Thorn is mentioned as the Cratægus Oxyacantha præcox. This variety of the Hawthorn blossoms during the Winter, and was for many years believed religiously to blow on Christmas-day. The Abbey of Glastonbury, in Somersetshire, which is now a ruin, and of whose origin only vague memorials exist, was said by the monks to have been the residence of Joseph of Arimathea. The high ground on which the old abbey was erected used in early days to be called the Isle of Avalon. The Thorn-tree stood on an eminence to the south-west of the town of Glastonbury, where a nunnery, dedicated to St. Peter, was in after times erected. The eminence is called Weary-all Hill; and the same monkish legend which accounts for the name of the hill, states also the origin of the Thorn. It seems that when Joseph of Arimathea, to whom the original conversion of this country is attributed, arrived at this spot with his companions, they were weary with their journey, and sat down. St. Joseph then stuck his stick in the ground, when, although it was a dry Hawthorn staff, it took root and grew, and thenceforth commemorated the birth of Christ in the manner above mentioned. This rendered its blossoms of so much value in all Christian nations, that the Bristol merchants exported them as things of price to foreign lands. It had two trunks or bodies until the time of Queen Elizabeth, when a Puritan cut down one of them, but left the other, which was about the size of an ordinary man. This desecration of the tree brought condign punishment upon the over-zealous Puritan, for, according to James Howell, a writer of the period, “some of the prickles flew into his eye, and made him monocular.” The reputation which the Glastonbury Thorn still retained, notwithstanding the change of religion, may be estimated by the fact that King James and his Queen, and other persons of distinction, gave large sums for small cuttings from the original tree. Until the time of Charles I., it was customary to carry a branch of the Thorn in procession at Christmas time; but during the civil war, in that reign, what remained of the tree was cut down; plants from its branches are, however, still in existence, for a vintner of the place secured a slip, and planted it in his garden, where it duly flowered on the 25th December. When the new style was introduced in 1752, the alteration (which consisted of omitting eleven days) seems to have been very generally disliked by the mass of the people. The use which was made of the Glastonbury Thorn to prove the impropriety of the change is not a little curious. The alteration in the Christmas Day, which was held that year and since on a day which would have been January 5th, was particularly obnoxious, not only as disturbing old associations, but as making an arbitrary change from what was considered the true anniversary of the birth of Christ. In several places, where real or supposed slips from the Glastonbury Thorn existed, the testimony of the plant against the change was anxiously sought on the first Christmas Day under the new style. As the special distinction of the Thorn arose from its supposed connection with the great event commemorated on that day, it was argued that it must indicate the true anniversary, and that its evidence would be conclusive on the subject. The event of one of these references (at Quainton, in Buckinghamshire) is thus recorded in the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine’ for 1753:—“Above 2000 people came here this night (December 24th, 1752, N.S., being the first Christmas Eve under the new calendar), with lanthorns and candles, to view a Thorn-tree which grows in this neighbourhood, and which was remembered (this year only) to be a slip from the Glastonbury Thorn; that it always budded on the 24th, was full-blown the next day, and went off at night. But the people, finding no appearance of a bud, it was agreed that December 25th n.s. could not be the right Christmas Day, and accordingly they refused going to Church, or treating their friends as usual. At length the affair became so serious, that the ministers of the neighbouring villages, in order to appease the people, thought it prudent to give notice that the old Christmas Day should be kept holy as usual.” The slips of the Thorn seem to have been everywhere unanimous in this opposition to the new style. There still exist at Glastonbury, within the precincts of the ruins of the Abbey, two distinct trees, which, doubtless, sprang from the Thorn of Joseph of Arimathea, and which continue to blossom during the winter months.

GLOBE FLOWER.—The botanical name of the Globe Flower, Trollius Europæus, is supposed to be of Scandinavian origin, and to signify a magic flower. The plant is also called Globe Ranunculus and Globe Crow-foot, from the globular form of its calyx. The flower was formerly known as the Troll-flower, and in Scotland as the Luckan Gowan (Cabbage Daisy). Its name of Troll was probably derived from the Swedish word troll, a malignant supernatural being,—a name corresponding to the Scotch Witches’ Gowan, and given to the Trollius on account of its acrid poisonous qualities. It is a common flower on the Alps, and has been employed from time immemorial by the Swiss peasantry to make garlands of on rural festive celebrations. In the northern counties of England, at the beginning of June, the Globe-flower is sought with great festivity by the young people, who adorn their doors and cottages with wreaths and garlands composed of its blossoms.

GOAT’S BEARD.—The yellow Goat’s Beard (Tragopogon pratensis) is one of the best floral indices of the hour of the day, for it opens at sunrise and closes at noon.

“And goodly now the noon-tide hour,
When from his high meridian tower
The sun looks down in majesty,
What time about the grassy lea
The Goat’s Beard, prompt his rise to hail
With broad expanded disk, in veil
Close mantling wraps its yellow head,
And goes, as peasants say, to bed.”—Bp. Mant.

Other names of this plant are Noon-day Flower, Go-to-bed-at-noon, Star of Jerusalem, and Joseph’s Flower. No satisfactory explanation has ever been given with respect to the last two names, nor is it known whether the Joseph referred to is the son of Jacob, the Virgin Mary’s husband, or Joseph of Arimathea.

GOLDEN ROD.—The tall straight-stemmed Golden Rod (Solidago virga aurea) was formerly called Wound-weed, and on account of its healing powers received its scientific name solidago, from “in solidum ago vulnera,” “I consolidate wounds.” It was brought from abroad in a dried state, and sold in the London markets by the herb-women of Queen Elizabeth’s days, and Gerarde tells us that it fetched half-a-crown an ounce. About that time, however, it was found in Hampstead ponds, and when it was seen to be a native plant, it became valueless and was discarded from use; which, says Gerarde, “plainely setteth forth our inconstancie and sudden mutabilitie, esteeming no longer of anything, how pretious soever it be, than whilest it is strange and rare. This verifieth our English proverbe, ‘Far fetcht and deare bought is best for ladies.’”——According to tradition, the Golden Rod is also a divining-rod, and points to hidden springs of water as well as to treasures of gold and silver.——Astrologers say that Golden Rod is a plant of Venus.

Gold Cup and Gold Knobs.—See Ranunculus.

Gold, Golding, and Gowan.—See Marigold.

GOLDILOCKS.—This name is applied to Ranunculus auricomus, Chrysocoma Linosyris, Amaranthus luteus (Golden Flower Gentle), and, by Gerarde, to Muscus capillaris (Golden Maidenhair Moss). Camelina sativa is the Gold of Pleasure.

GOLUBETZ.—There is a popular belief in Russia, that anyone drinking a draught of water in which this plant of the marshes has been steeped, will be exempt from attacks by bears.

GOOD HENRY.—The Allgood, English Mercury, Good Henry, or Good King Harry (Chenopodium Bonus Henricus) seems to have been given its name of Good Henry to distinguish it from a poisonous plant called Malus Henricus. Grimm explains that the name Henry has reference in this case to elves and kobolds, which were called Heinz and Heinrich.

GOOL-ACHIN.—The Plumeria acutifolia, a tree of American origin, is called by the Hindus Gool-achin, and is esteemed sacred by them. It is commonly planted in Indian gardens, and particularly in cemeteries, because it keeps the graves of the departed white with its daily fall of fragrant flowers. The branches are stout, and, when wounded, exude a milky juice, which is prized.

GOOSEBERRY.—The homely Gooseberry, which derives its name from the Anglo-Saxon crós, a curl (German kraus, and old Dutch kroes), is an old inhabitant of England, for Tusser, who lived in the reign of Henry VIII., wrote of it—

“The Barberry, Respis, and Gooseberry, too,
Look now to be planted as other things do.”

It was formerly called Feaberry, Dewberry and Wineberry.——An old-fashioned remedy for a wart consisted in pricking it with a sharp Gooseberry-thorn passed through a wedding-ring.——To dream of ripe Gooseberries is considered as a favourable omen. It predicts a fortune, a lucrative post under Government, great fidelity in your sweetheart, sweetness of temper and disposition, many children (chiefly sons), and the accomplishment of your aims. To the sailor, to dream of Gooseberries, indicates dangers in his next voyage; to the maiden, a roving husband.——The Gooseberry is placed by astrologers under the rule of Venus.

GRAPES.—The product of the Vine was the especial fruit of the god Bacchus, who is sometimes represented like an infant, holding a thyrsus and clusters of grapes with a horn. In the Catholic Church, Grapes and Corn are symbolic of the Blessed Eucharist. According to Brocard, the finest Grapes are those grown in the vales of Eshcol and Sorek. The word sorek signifies “fine Grapes.” Clusters of Grapes have been found in Syria, weighing as much as forty pounds, worthy successors of the cluster taken by the Israelitish spies from Eshcol, which “they bare between two upon a staff.”——In some countries, the Grape is believed to have been the forbidden fruit of the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden.——To dream of Grapes foretells to the maiden that her husband will be cheerful, and a great songster. If the dreamer be in love, they augur a speedy union, and denote much happiness in marriage and success in trade. According to another authority, to dream that you see clusters of Grapes hanging round about you predicts future advancement and honour. To the maid it implies marriage with an ambitious man, who will arrive at great preferment, but die early.

GORSE.—The Whin Gorse, or Furze (Ulex)—“the never-bloomless Furze”—caused Dillenius the greatest delight, and is said to have so affected Linnæus, when he first came to England and saw a common covered with its golden blossoms, that he fell down on his knees in a rapture at the sight, and thanked God for its loveliness. He attempted in vain to introduce it into Sweden; but although hardy enough in England, yet it would not grow even in the garden in which Linnæus planted it.——The old English names for this shrub were Fursbush, Furrs, Whins, and Goss.——Gorse is held to be under the dominion of Mars.

GORY-DEW.—A minute Alga bears the name of Gory-dew from its resemblance to blood-drops. During the Middle Ages, it caused much dismay by appearing like a sudden shower of blood, and it was thought to portend battle, murder, and sudden death.

GRASS.—In India, several kinds of Grass, such as the Kusa, a species of Andropogon, and Eragrostis, are held sacred by the Hindus, and employed in their temples.——In Prussia, the northern Holy Grass (Holcus odoratus) is used for strewing the floors of churches at Whitsuntide. In some parts of Germany, Holy Grass (Hierochloe borealis) is strewn before church doors on holidays.——Wheat would appear to be only the cultivated form of the Ægilops, a Grass infesting Barley-fields on the shores of the Mediterranean. Grip-grass (Galium Aparine) is so called from its gripping or seizing with its hooked prickles whatever comes in its way. The Potentilla reptans is called Five-Finger Grass, on account of its five leaflets. The only poisonous Grass (Darnel) is supposed to be the Tares of the Scriptures: Linnæus says of this Grass (Lolium temulentum) that if the seeds are baked in bread it is very hurtful, and if malted with Barley it produces giddinness.——In Norfolk, coarse marshy Grass is called Hassock, hence the application of this name to church hassocks, which are often made of a large Sedge, the Carex paniculata.——In connection with Tussack-grass (Aira cæspitosa), Mr. Sikes relates the following tradition current in Wales:—The son of a farmer at Drws Coed was permitted to marry a fairy-wife on condition that she should never be touched by iron. They had several children, and lived happily enough until one unfortunate day her horse sank in the deep mire, and as her husband was helping her to remount, his stirrup struck her knee. At once sweet singing was heard on the hill top, and she was parted from him; but, though no longer allowed to walk the earth with man, she used to haunt the turf lake (Llyn y dywarchen). This lake has moving islands of Tussack-grass, like Derwentwater, so on one of these islands she used to stand for hours and hold converse with her bereaved husband.——“Fairy Rings” is the popular name for the circles of dark-green Grass occasionally seen on grassy downs and old pastures, round which, according to popular belief, the

“Elfe-queen, with her jolly compagnie,
Danced full oft in many a grene mede.”

On this dark Grass rustic superstition avers that no sheep or lamb will browse. Disregarding the poetical charm which lingers around the fairy superstition, and oblivious of the poet’s asseveration that—

“Of old the merry elves were seen
Pacing with printless feet the dewy green,”

some naturalists have ascribed the phenomenon of these rings to lightning; others to the work of ants; and others, again, to the growth of a small esculent Fungus called Agaricus Orcades. However, Edmund Jones, a celebrated preacher, of Monmouth, who in 1813 wrote a book on apparitions, declares that in St. Matthew xii., 43, is to be found an authority for the popular belief. He says, “The fairy rings are found in dry places, and the Scripture saith that the walk of evil spirits is in dry places.”——In Sussex, elves and fairies are sometimes called “Pharisees” by the country folk, and in Tarberry Hill, on Harting, are Pharisees’ rings, where the simple people say the Pharisees dance on Midsummer Eve.——To dream of Grass is a good omen; if the Grass be fresh and green, the dream portends long life, good luck, and great wealth; but if withered and decayed, misfortunes and sickness may be expected, if not the death of loved ones. To dream of cutting Grass betokens great troubles.

GROUNDHEELE.—This plant, known in Germany as Grundheil, and in France as Herbe aux Ladres, is identified by Doctor Prior with Veronica officinalis, which he says was so called from its having cured a king of France of a leprosy, from which he had suffered some eight years—a disease, called in Germany, grind. Quoting from Brunschwygk, our author tells us that a shepherd had seen a stag, whose hind quarter was covered with a scabby eruption from the bite of a wolf, cure itself by eating of this plant, and rolling itself upon it; and that thereupon he recommended the king to try it.

Ground-Ivy.—See Ivy.

GROUNDSEL.—The Senecio vulgaris is called, in Scotland, Grundy Swallow, a term derived from the Anglo-Saxon word grundswelge, ground glutton, and of which Groundsel is evidently a corruption. Senecio Saracenicus is said to have been used by the Saracens in the cure of wounds. Common Groundsel has the power of softening water if it be poured while boiling on the plant. The Highland women often wear a piece of its root as an amulet to guard them from the Evil Eye. A bunch of Groundsel worn on the bare bosom was formerly reputed to be an efficacious charm against the ague. Pliny prescribes Groundsel for the toothache. A root must be pulled up, and a portion of it cut off with a sharp razor; then the Groundsel must be immediately replanted, and the excised portion applied three or four times to the ailing tooth. A cure is probable, says Pliny, provided the mutilated and replanted Groundsel should thrive: if otherwise, the tooth will ache more than ever. In Cornwall, if Groundsel is to be used as an emetic, they strip it upwards; if for a cathartic, downwards.——Groundsel is a herb of Venus.

GUABANA.—The Guabana or Guarabana, which is presumed to be the wild Pine Apple, Ananas sativus, first became known to Europeans in Peru some three centuries ago. In the Mythologie des Plantes, we read that the dead were, according to a ghastly popular tradition, believed to rise and eat the Guabana fruit every night. This fruit of the dead is described as tender and sweet as a Melon, of the shape of a Pine-apple, and of a splendid appearance.

GUELDER ROSE.—The Viburnum Opulus has been called the Snowball-tree, but is more generally known as the Guelder Rose, from its Rose-like balls of white blossom. The shrub is a variety of the Water Elder, introduced from Gueldres. In England, its flowers are dedicated to Whitsuntide.

HÆMANTHUS.—The Hæmanthus, or Blood-flower, is a native of Brazil, where H. multiflorus is the Imperial Flower—the especial flower and blazon of the Emperor.

HAG-TAPER.—The Verbascum Thapsus was called Hedge-taper, High-taper, or Hig-taper, because it was used as a torch on funeral and other occasions. These names became corrupted into Hag-taper during the period when the belief in witchcraft existed, from a notion that witches employed the plant in working their spells. Probably this superstition was derived from the ancients, for we read in Gerarde’s ‘Herbal’—“Apuleius reporteth a tale of Ulysses, Mercurie, and the inchauntresse Circe using these herbes in their incantations and witchcrafts.” (See Mullein).

HALLELUJAH.—The Wood-Sorrel (Oxalis Acetosella) bears the name of Hallelujah, not only in England, but in Germany, France, Spain, and Italy, because it blossoms between Easter and Whitsuntide—the season at which those Psalms are sung which end with that pious ejaculation, viz., the 113th to the 117th inclusive.

HAREBELL.—Gerarde, in his ‘Herbal,’ Parkinson, in his ‘Paradisus,’ and other old herbalists, term the Hyacinthus non scriptus, or English Jacinth, the Hare-bell or Hare’s-bell. This is probably the “azure Harebell” alluded to by Shakspeare, and is the flower referred to by Browne, in his ‘Pastorals,’ as only to be worn by faithful lovers:—

“The Harebell, for her stainless azured hue,
Claims to be worn of none but who are true.”

The nodding Blue-bell of the heath-land (Campanula rotundifolia), however, is the Hare-bell of modern poets; but both plants are called by that name in different parts of England. The original word is said to have been either Air-bell or Hair-bell, appellations which might most appropriately be applied to the graceful and airy Campanulas, whose slender stems have sufficient elasticity to rise again when lightly trodden under foot. In some English counties the flower is familiarly called Witches’ Thimble. In France, a little white Hare-bell is common in the meadows, and from its modest and chaste appearance is called the Nun of the Fields. (See Blue-bell and Campanula).

Hassocks.—See Grass.

HAWKWEED.—The Hawk-weed or Hawk-bit (Hieracium) was a name originally applied to several plants of the Dandelion and Mouse-ear families, and in days when falconry was practised, these plants derived some importance from the notion entertained by the ancients that with them hawks were in the habit of clearing their eyesight—a notion endorsed by the later herbalists, for we find Gerarde writing that hawks are reported to clear their sight by conveying the juice hereof into their eyes. The old tradition that the hawk feed upon Hawkweed and led her young ones early to eat the plant, that by its juices they might gain acuteness of vision, was believed some centuries ago not only in England but throughout Europe. The Greeks considered the Hawkweed a holy plant, inasmuch as it was dedicated to the use of a bird they held sacred. One of these plants was, like the Scabious, called the Devil’s-bit, on account of its root presenting the appearance of having been bitten off short; another (Hieracium aurantiacum) bore the familiar name of Grim the Collier, given it from the black hairs which cover its stem and involucre. Hawkweeds were considered good for strengthening the eyesight, and were deemed efficacious against the bites of serpents and scorpions.——The plant was adjudged to be under the rule of Saturn.

HAWTHORN.—The Hawthorn, according to ancient myths, originally sprang from the lightning: it has been revered as a sacred tree from the earliest times, and was accounted by the Greeks a tree of good augury and a symbol of conjugal union. After the rape of the Sabines, upon which occasion the shepherds carried Hawthorn-boughs, it was considered propitious; its blossoming branches were borne by those assisting at wedding festivities, and the newly-married couple were lighted to the bridal chamber with torches of the wood. At the present day, the Greeks garland their brides with wreaths of Hawthorn, and deck the nuptial altar with its blossoms, whilst on May-day they suspend boughs of the flowering shrub over their portals. The ancient Germans composed their funeral-piles of Hawthorn wood, and consecrated it with the mallet, the symbol of the god Thor. They believed that in the sacred flame which shot upwards from the Thorn, the souls of the deceased were carried to heaven.——In France, the Hawthorn is called l’Epine noble, from the belief that it furnished the Crown of Thorns worn by our Lord before the Crucifixion. Sir John Maundevile has given the original tradition, which is as follows:—“Then was our Lord led into a garden ... and the Jews scourged Him, and made Him a crown of the branches of the Albespyne, that is, White Thorn, which grew in the same garden, and set it on His head.... And therefore hath the White Thorn many virtues. For he that beareth a branch thereof, no thunder or manner of tempest may hurt him: and in the house that it is in may no evil spirit enter.”——A Roman Catholic legend relates that when the Holy Crown blossomed afresh, whilst the victorious Charlemagne knelt before it, the scent of Hawthorn filled the air. The Crown of Thorns was given up to St. Louis of France by the Venetians, and placed by him in the Sainte Chapelle, which he built in Paris. The Feast of the Susception of the Holy Crown is observed at the church of Notre Dame, in Paris, in honour of this cherished relic. The Crown of Thorns is enclosed within a glass circle, which a priest holds in his hands; he passes before the kneeling devotees, who are ranged outside the altar rail, and offers the crown to them to be kissed. The Norman peasant constantly wears a sprig of Hawthorn in his cap, from the belief that Christ’s crown was woven of it.——The French have a curious tradition that when Christ was one day resting in a wood, after having escaped from a pursuit by the Jews, the magpies came and covered Him all over with Thorns, which the kindly swallows (poules de Dieu) perceived, and hastened to remove. A swallow is also said to have taken away the Crown of Thorns at the Crucifixion.——The Hawthorn is the distinguishing badge of the royal house of Tudor. When Richard III. was slain at Bosworth, his body was plundered of its armour and ornaments. The crown was hidden by a soldier in a Hawthorn-bush, but was soon found and carried back to Lord Stanley, who, placing it on the head of his son-in-law, saluted him as King Henry VII. To commemorate this picturesque incident, the house of Tudor assumed the device of a crown in a bush of fruited Hawthorn. The proverb of “Cleave to the crown, though it hang on a bush,” alludes to the same circumstance.——The Hawthorn has for centuries borne in England the favourite name of “May,” from its flowering in that month:

“Between the leaves the silver Whitethorn shows
Its dewy blossoms pure as mountain snows.”

In olden times, very early on May-day morning, lads and lasses repaired to the woods and hedgerows, and returned, soon after sunrise, laden with posies of flowers, and boughs of blooming Hawthorn, with which to decorate the churches and houses: even in London boughs of May were freely suspended over the citizens’ doorways. Chaucer tells us how:—

“Furth goth all the Courte, both most and lest,
To fetche the flouris freshe, and braunche, and blome,
And namely Hawthorne brought both page and grome,
With freshe garlandis partly blew and white,
And than rejoisin in their grete delighte.”

In Lancashire, at the present day, the Mayers still, in some districts, go from door to door, and sing:—

“We have been rambling all this night,
And almost all this day;
And now returned back again,
We’ve brought you a branch of May.
“A branch of May we have brought you,
And at your door it stands;
It is but a sprout, but it’s well budded out
By the work of our Lord’s hands.”

Aubrey, writing in 1686, records that at Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, the people were accustomed on May-eve to go into the park and procure a number of Hawthorn-trees, which they set before their doors. In Huntingdonshire, on May-day morn, the young men used formerly to place, at sunrise, a branch of Hawthorn in blossom, before the door of anyone they wished to honour.——A curious superstition survives in Suffolk, where to sleep in a room, with the Hawthorn in bloom in it during the month of May, is considered, by country folk, to be unlucky, and sure to be followed by some great misfortune.——In some parts of Ireland, it is thought unlucky to bring blossoming Hawthorn indoors, and unsafe to gather even a leaf from certain old and solitary Thorns which grow in sheltered hollows of the moorlands, and on the fairies’ trysting places.——It is considered unlucky to cut down a Hawthorn-tree, and in many parts the peasants refuse to do it: thus we read, in a legend of county Donegal, that a fairy had tried to steal one Joe McDonough’s baby, and, telling the story to her neighbours: “I never affronted the gentry [fairies] to my knowledge,” sighed the poor mother; “but Joe helped Mr. Todd’s gardener to cut down the old Hawthorn-tree on the lawn Friday was eight days: an’ there’s them that says that’s a very bad thing to do. I fleeched him not to touch it, but the master he offered him six shillings if he’d help wi’ the job, for the other men refused.” “That’s the way of it,” whispered the crones over their pipes and poteen—“that’s just it. The gude man has had the ill luck to displease the ‘gentry,’ an’ there will be trouble in this house yet.”——Among the Pyrenean peasantry Hawthorn and Laurel are thought to secure the wearer against thunder. The inhabitants of Biarritz make Hawthorn wreaths on St. John’s Day: they then rush to the sea, plunge in after a prayer, and consider themselves safe during the ensuing twelve months from the temptation of evil spirits.——The old herbalists prescribe the distilled water of the Haws of the Hawthorn as an application suited to “any place where thorns or splinters doe abide in the flesh,” the result being that the decoction “will notably draw them out.” Lord Bacon tells us, that a “store of Haws portends cold winters.”——Among the Turks, a branch of Hawthorn expresses the wish of a lover to receive a kiss.——The Hawthorn attains to a great age, and its wood is remarkably durable: there is a celebrated tree enclosed in Cawdor Castle, near Inverness, which has stood from time immemorial. Tradition relates that the Castle was built over the tree in consequence of a dream, by which the original proprietor was instructed to erect a castle on this particular spot. From the most remote times it has been customary for guests to assemble themselves around this venerable tree, and drink success to the House of Cawdor.——The most remarkable of English Thorns is that known as the Glastonbury Thorn, which is reputed to have sprung from the staff of Joseph of Arimathea. (See Glastonbury Thorn).——By astrologers the Hawthorn is placed under the dominion of Mars. Turner remarks that, should he “want weapons, he may make use of the prickles and let Saturn take the fruit.”

Haymaids, or Hedgemaids, the Ground-Ivy.—See Ivy.

HAZEL.—The Hazel (Corylus Avellana) is the theme of many traditions, reaching from the remotest ages, and in England the tree would seem to have acquired almost a sacred character. In Scandinavian mythology the Hazel was consecrated to the god Thor, and in the poetic Edda a staff of Hazel is mentioned as a symbol of authority, and hence employed for the sceptres of kings.——In classic mythology, the Hazel rod becomes the caduceus of the god Mercury. Taking pity on the miserable, barbarous state of mankind, Apollo and Mercury interchanged presents and descended to the earth. The god of Harmony received from the son of Maia the shell of a tortoise, out of which he had constructed a lyre, and gave him in exchange a Hazel stick, which had the power of imparting a love of virtue and of calming the passion and hatred of men. Armed with this Hazel wand, Mercury moved among the people of earth, and touching them with it, he taught them to express their thoughts in words, and awakened within them feelings of patriotism, filial love, and reverence of the gods. Adorned with two light wings, and entwined with serpents, the Hazel rod of Mercury is still the emblem of peace and commerce.——An old tradition tells us that God, when He banished Adam from the terrestrial Paradise, gave him in His mercy the power of producing instantly the animals of which he was in want, upon striking the sea with a Hazel rod. One day Adam tried this, and produced the sheep. Eve was desirous of imitating him, but her stroke of the Hazel rod brought forth the wolf, which at once attacked the sheep. Adam hastened to regain his salutary instrument, and produced the dog, which conquered the wolf.——A Hebrew legend states that Eve, after eating the forbidden fruit, hid herself in the foliage of a Hazel-bush.——It was a Hazel-tree which afforded shelter to the Virgin Mary, surprised by a storm, whilst on her way to visit St. Elizabeth. Under a Hazel-tree the Holy Family rested during their flight into Egypt.——It was of wattled Hazel-hurdles that St. Joseph, of Arimathea, raised the first English Christian church at Glastonbury.——In Bohemia, a certain “chapel in the Hazel-tree,” dedicated to the Virgin Mary, is regarded with much reverence: it was erected in memory of a butcher to whom a statue of the Virgin, near a Hazel-tree, had spoken. The butcher carried off the image to his house, but during the night the statue returned to its former place near the Hazel-tree.——For the ancient Germans, the Hazel-tree, which re-blossoms towards the end of winter, was a type of immortality. It is now considered a symbol of happy marriages, because the Nuts are seen on its branches united in pairs.——In the Black Forest, the leader of a marriage procession carries a Hazel wand in his hand. In some places, during certain processions on Sunday, the Oats stored in stables for horses are touched, in the name of God, with Hazel-branches.——It is believed that this humble shrub frightens serpents. An Irish tradition relates that St. Patrick held a rod of Hazel-wood in his hand when he gathered on the promontory of Cruachan Phadraig all the venomous reptiles of the island and cast them into the sea.——The Hazel rod or staff appears in olden times to have had peculiar sanctity: it was used by pilgrims, and often deposited in churches, or kept as a precious relic, and buried with its owner. Several such Hazel staffs have been found in Hereford Cathedral.——The Tyroleans consider that a Hazel-bough is an excellent lightning conductor.——According to an ancient Hebrew tradition, the wands of magicians were made of Hazel, and of a virgin branch, that is, of a bough quite bare and destitute of sprigs or secondary branches.——Nork says that by means of Hazel rods witches can be compelled to restore to animals and plants the fecundity which they had previously taken from them.——Pliny states that Hazel wands assist the discovery of subterranean springs; and in Italy, to the present day, they are believed to act as divining-rods for the discovery of hidden treasure—a belief formerly held in England, if we may judge from the following lines by S. Shepherd (1600):—

“Some sorcerers do boast they have a rod,
Gather’d with words and sacrifice,
And, borne aloft, will strangely nod
To hidden treasure where it lies.”

Extraordinary and special conditions are necessary to ensure success in the cutting of a divining-rod. It must always be performed after sunset and before sunrise, and only on certain nights, among which are specified those of Good Friday, Epiphany, Shrove Friday, and St. John’s Day, the first night of a new moon, or that preceding it. In cutting it, one must face the east, so that the rod shall be one which catches the first rays of the morning sun; or, as some say, the eastern and western sun must shine through the fork of the rod, otherwise it will be valueless. Both in France and England, the divining-rod is much more commonly employed at the present time than is generally supposed. In the eighteenth century its use was ably advocated by De Thouvenel in France, and soon afterwards in our country by enthusiasts. Pryce, in his Mineralogia Cornubiensis, states that many mines have been discovered by means of the rod, and quotes several. Sir Thomas Browne describes the divining-rod as “a forked Hazel, commonly called Moses’ Rod, which, held freely forth, will stir and play if any mine be under it.” He thinks, however, that the rod is of pagan origin, and writes:—“the ground whereof were the magical rods in poets—that of Pallas, in Homer; that of Mercury, that charmed Argus; and that of Circe, which transformed the followers of Ulysses: too boldly usurping the name of Moses’s rod; from which, notwithstanding, and that of Aaron, were probably occasioned the fables of all the rest. For that of Moses must needs be famous to the Egyptians, and that of Aaron unto many other nations, as being preserved in the Ark until the destruction of the Temple built by Solomon.” In the ‘Quarterly Review,’ No. 44, is a long account (vouched for by the editor), proving that a Lady Noel possessed the faculty of using the divining-rod:—“She took a thin forked Hazel-twig, about sixteen inches long, and held it by the end, the joint pointing downwards. When she came to the place where the water was under the ground, the Hazel-twig immediately bent, and the motion was more or less rapid as she approached or withdrew from the spring. When just over it, the twig turned so quick as to snap, breaking near the fingers, which by pressing it were indented and heated, and almost blistered; a degree of agitation was also visible in her face. The exercise of the faculty is independent of any volition.”——The use of the forked Hazel-twig as a divining-rod to discover metals is said to have been known in this kingdom as early as the days of Agricola: its derivation is probably to be sought in an ancient custom of the Israelites, to which the Prophet Hosea alludes when he says: “My people ask counsel at their stocks, and their staff declareth unto them.”——In Sweden, Hazel-nuts are believed to have the mystical power of making invisible.——An old-fashioned charm to cure the bite of an adder was to cut a piece of Hazel-wood, fasten a long bit and a short one together in the form of a cross, then to lay it softly on the wound, and say thrice in a loud tone—

“Underneath this Hazelin mote,
There’s a Braggotty worm with a speckled throat,
Nine double is he.
Now from 9 double to 8 double,
And from 8 double to 7 double,
And from 7 double to 6 double,
And from 6 double to 5 double,
And from 5 double to 4 double,
And from 4 double to 3 double,
And from 3 double to 2 double,
And from 2 double to 1 double,
And from 1 double to no double,
No double hath he!”

To dream of Hazels, and of cracking and eating their Nuts, portends riches and content as the reward of toil. To dream of finding hidden Hazel-nuts predicts the finding of treasure.——Astrologers assign the Hazel to the dominion of Mercury.

Heartsease.—See Pansy.

HEATHER.—Included under the term Heather are the six English species of Heath (Erica) and the Ling (Calluna). Although, in the Scriptures, the Prophet Jeremiah exclaims, “And he shall be like the Heath in the desert,” it is probable that the Juniper is really referred to.——In Germany, the Heath is believed to owe its colour to the blood of the slain heathen, for in that country the inhabitants of the uncultivated fields, where the Heath (heide) grew, came in time to be known as heathen, or heiden.——Heather was the badge of “Conn of a hundred fights.” The Highlanders consider it exceedingly lucky to find white Heather, the badge of the captain of Clanronald.——The Picts made beer from Heather.

“For once thy mantling juice was seen to laugh
In pearly cups, which monarchs loved to quaff;
And frequent waked the wild inspired lay
On Teviot’s hills beneath the Pictish sway.”—Leyden.

The secret of the manufacture of Heather beer was lost when the Picts were exterminated, as they never divulged it to strangers. Tradition says that after the slaughter by Kenneth, a father and son, the sole survivors, were brought before the conqueror, who offered the father his life, provided that he would divulge the secret of making this liquor, and the son was put to death before the old man’s eyes, in order to add emphasis to the request. Disgusted with such barbarity, the old warrior said: “Your threats might, perhaps, have influenced my son, but they have no effect on me.” Kenneth then suffered the Pict to live, and he carried his secret with him to the grave. At the present time, the inhabitants of Isla, Jura, and other outlying districts, brew a very potable liquor by mixing two-thirds of the tops of Heath with one of malt.

HELENIUM.—The flower of the Helenium resemble small suns of a beautiful yellow. According to tradition, they sprang up from the tears shed by Helen of Troy. On this point Gerarde writes in his ‘Herbal’:—“Some report that this plant tooke the name of Helenium from Helena, wife to Menelaus, who had her hands full of it when Paris stole her away into Phrygia.”

HELIOTROPE.—The nymph Clytie, enamoured of Phœbus (the Sun), was forsaken by him for Leucothea. Maddened with jealousy, the discarded and love-sick Clytie accused Leucothea of unchastity before her father, who entombed his daughter, and thus killed her. Phœbus, enraged with Clytie for causing the death of his beloved Leucothea, heeded not her sighs and spurned her embraces. Abandoned thus by her inconstant lover, the wretched and despairing Clytie wandered half distraught, until at length—

“She with distracted passion pines away,
Detesteth company; all night, all day,
Disrobed, with her ruffled hair unbound
And wet with humour, sits upon the ground;
For nine long days all sustenance forbears;
Her hunger cloy’d with dew, her thirst with tears:
Nor rose; but rivets on the god her eyes,
And ever turns her face to him that flies.
At length to earth her stupid body cleaves;
Her wan complexion turns to bloodless leaves,
Yet streaked with red: her perished limbs beget
A flower resembling the pale Violet;
Which, with the Sun, though rooted fast, doth move;
And, being changed, yet changeth not her love.”—Sandys’ Ovid.

Rapin, in error, alludes to the Sunflower (Helianthus) as owing its origin to Clytie. He says:—

“But see where Clytie, pale with vain desires,
Bows her weak neck, and Phœbus still admires;
On rushy stems she lifts herself on high,
And courts a glance from his enliv’ning eye.”

The flower into which the hapless Clytie was metamorphosed was not the scented Heliotrope, common to modern gardens, which does not turn with the Sun, and, being of Peruvian origin, was of course unknown to the ancients; neither was it the Helianthus, or Sunflower, for that plant also came to us from the new world, and was therefore equally unknown in the days when Ovid wrote the tragic story of Clytie’s love and death. The Herba Clytiæ is identified in an old German herbal (Hortus Medicus Camerarii) with Heliotropium Tricoccon. Gerarde figures four Heliotropiums, or “Tornesoles,” one of which he names Heliotropium Tricoccum; and in his remarks on the Heliotrope or Turnsole, he says: “Some think it to be Herba Clytiæ into which the poets feign Clytia to be metamorphosed; whence one writeth these verses:—

‘Herba velut Clitiæ semper petit obvia solem,
Sic pia mens Christum, quo prece spectet, habet.’”

Parkinson calls the same plant the Turnesole Scorpion Tayle. Theophrastus alludes to the same Heliotropium under the name of Herba Solaris. But we do not find that the flowers of this common European species of Heliotrope answer the description given by Ovid—“A flower most like a Violet”—or by Pliny, who says of it: “The Heliotrope turns with the Sun, in cloudy weather even, so great is its sympathy with that luminary: at night, as though in regret, it closes its blue flowers.” The insignificant Heliotropium or Turnsole, with its diminutive whitish blossom, cannot be the flower depicted by Ovid, or the plant with “blue flowers” referred to by Pliny. Moreover, Gerarde tells us that the European Turnsole he figures “is named Heliotropium, not because it is turned about at the daily motion of the sunne, but by reason it flowereth in the Summer solstice, at which time the sunne being farthest gone from the equinoctial circle, returneth to the same.” In Mentzel’s ‘Index Nominum Plantarum Multilinguis’ (1682) we find that the old Italian name of the Turnsole was Verrucaria (Wart-wort), and Gerarde, in the index to his ‘Herbal,’ states that Verrucaria is Tithymalus (Spurge), or Heliotropium minus. Referring to his description of the Spurges, we note that he figures twenty-three varieties, the first of which is called Wart-wort; and the second, Sun Spurge, which is thus described:—“The second kinde (called Helioscopius or Solisequius, and in English, according to his Greeke name, Sunne Spurge, or Time Tithymale, of turning or keeping time with the sunne) hath sundry reddish stalkes of a foot high; the leaves are like unto Purslane, not so great nor thicke, but snipt about the edges: the flowers are yellowish, and growing in little platters.” Here, then, we have perhaps a sufficiently near approach to the pale flower of Ovid; but nothing like the blue flower of Pliny. Among the Spurges described by Gerarde, however, is one which he calls the Venetian Sea Spurge, and this plant is stated to have bell-shaped flowers of a dark or blackish purple colour, so that possibly this was the flower indicated by Pliny.——De Gubernatis, in his Mythologie des Plantes, states that the flower into which Clytia was transformed is the Helianthemum roseum of Decandolle. The author of ‘Flower Lore’ says, “The classic Sunflower is an annual of an insignificant appearance, having many fabulous properties assigned to it. The Heliotrope belongs to the natural order Boraginæ, and is a native of the south-west of Europe.” The late Mr. H. A. Bright, in ‘A Year in a Lancashire Garden,’ tells us that one of our very best living authorities on such a subject sent him “the suggestion that the common Salsafy, or possibly the Anagallis, may be the flower.” Turner, in his ‘Brittish Physician’ (1687), calls the yellow-flowered Elecampane, the Sunflower. Other botanists suggest an Aster or Calendula (Marigold): if this last suggestion be correct, the flower called by Parkinson, in his ‘Paradisus,’ the Purple Marigold, and by Gerarde Italian Starwort (Aster Italorum), comes nearest to Pliny’s description. This flower is stated by Gerarde to have been called by some the Blue Marigold, whose yellow European brother Shakspeare describes as

“The Marygold, that goes to bed with the sun,
And with it rises weeping.”

We may include the blue or purple Marigold among those flowers of which Bacon writes: “For the bowing and inclining the head, it is found in the great Flower of the Sunne, in Marigolds, Wart Wort, Mallow Flowers, and others.”——Albertus Magnus accords to the Heliotrope the following wonderful properties: “Gather in August the Heliotropon, wrap it in a Bay-leaf with a wolf’s tooth, and it will, if placed under the pillow, show a man who has been robbed where are his goods, and who has taken them. Also, if placed in a church, it will keep fixed in their places all the women present who have broken their marriage vow. This last is most tried and most true.” According to another version, in order to work this last charm, the Heliotrope-flower must be gathered in August when the sun is in Leo, and be wrapped in a Laurel-leaf before being deposited in the church.

HELLEBORE.—The Christmas Rose (Helleborus niger) has also been called Black Hellebore, from the colour of its roots, and Melampodium, in honour of Melampus, a learned physician who flourished at Pylos, in Peloponnesus, 1530 years before the birth of Christ. Melampus travelled into Egypt, then the seat of science, in order to study the healing art, and there he became acquainted with the cathartic qualities of the Hellebore, by noticing the effect it had upon some goats which had fed upon the herb. He afterwards cured with Hellebore the mental derangement of the daughters of Prœtus, King of Argos—ancient writers affirm by causing the princesses to bathe in a cold fountain after taking the drug; but according to Pliny, by prescribing the milk of goats which had eaten this vegetable. From this circumstance, Hellebore became celebrated as a medicine, and was speedily regarded with superstitious reverence by the ignorant populace. Thus, Black Hellebore was used to purify houses, and to hallow dwellings, and the ancients entertained the belief that by strewing or perfuming their apartments with this plant, they drove away evil spirits. This ceremony was performed with great devotion, and accompanied with the singing of solemn hymns. In similar manner, they blessed their cattle with Hellebore, to keep them free from the spells of the wicked: for these purposes it was dug up with certain attendant mystic rites; the devotee first drawing a circle round the plant with a sword, and then, turning to the east, offering a prayer to Apollo and Æsculapius, for leave to dig up the root. The flight of the eagle was anxiously watched during the performance of these rites, for if the bird approached the spot, it was considered so ominous as to predict the certain death of the persons who took up the plant, in the course of the year. In digging up the roots of certain species of Hellebore, it was thought necessary to eat Garlic previously, to counteract the poisonous effluvia of the plant. Yet the root was eventually dried and pounded to dust, in which state it was taken in the manner of snuff.——R. Turner, writing in 1663, says that at that time Hellebore was thought to cure such as seemed to be possessed with the Devil, and therefore was by some called Fuga Dæmonum.——The ancient Gauls are said to have invariably rubbed the points of their arrows with Hellebore, believing that it rendered all the game killed with them more tender.——Hellebore in ancient times was considered a certain antidote against madness. In his ‘Anatomy of Melancholy,’ Burton introduces the Hellebore among the emblematical figures of his frontispiece, with the following lines:—

“Borage and Hellebore fill two scenes,
Sovereign plants to purge the veins
Of melancholy, and cheer the heart
Of those black fumes which make it smart;
To clear the brain of misty fogs,
Which dull our senses, and soul clogs;
The best medicine that e’er God made
For this malady, if well assaid.”

Hellebore formerly grew in great abundance on the Island of Anticyra, in the Gulf of Corinth: hence Naviga ad Anticyram was a common proverb applied to hypochondriacal persons.——Pausanias tells us that when the Cirrhæans besieged Athens, Solon recommended that Hellebore should be thrown in the river Plistus: this was done, and the Cirrhæans, from drinking the water, were so powerfully attacked with dysentery, that they were forced to abandon the siege.——The Hellebore has long been considered a plant of evil omen, growing in dark and lonely places. Thus Campbell says of it:—

“By the witches’ tower,
Where Hellebore and Hemlock seem to weave
Round its dark vaults a melancholy bower
For spirits of the dead at night’s enchanted hour.”

The plant, with certain accompanying exorcisms, was reputed to be efficacious in cases of deafness caused by witchcraft. In Tuscany, the peasantry divine the harvest from the appearance of the Hellebore-plant. If it has four tufts, it will be good; if three, mediocre; if two, bad.——Astrologers say that Hellebore is a herb of Saturn.

HELMET-FLOWER.—The Scutellaria, or Skull-cap flower, is generally known by the name of the Helmet-flower, the blossoms being shaped similar to those of the Snap-Dragon. It is used in curing the tertian ague.

HEMLOCK.—The common Hemlock (Conium maculatum) is described by Dioscorides as a very evil, dangerous, hurtful, and poisonous herb, “insomuch that whosoever taketh of it into his body dieth remediless, except the party drank some wine before the venom hath taken the heart.” It is the Coneion of the ancients: that deadly poison distilled from the juices of the Hemlock, that was drunk by Socrates, Theramenes, and Phocion—the fatal drug given to him whom the Areopagus had condemned to death—the unfailing potion gulped down by ancient philosophers, who were weary of their lives, and dreaded the infirmities of old age. Resolved on their fate, these men crowned themselves with garlands, and with a smile upon their lips tossed off the fatal Coneion—dying respected by their countrymen for their fortitude and heroism.——The Hemlock is one of the deadly poisons that kills by its cold quality. Hence Pliny tells us that serpents fly from its leaves, because they also chill to the death: on this account probably it has been called Herba benedicta, or Herb Bennett.——The Eleusinian priests, who were required to remain chaste all their lives, were wont to rub themselves with Hemlock.——In Russia, the Hemlock under the name of Beh, is looked upon as a Satanic herb; and in Germany, it is regarded as a funereal plant, and as a representative of the vegetation of the infernal regions. In England, it was a favourite plant of the witches, gathered by them for use in their potions and hell-broths: it is still considered a plant of ill-omen, growing among ruins and in waste places, and being unsavoury and offensive to the senses.

“By the witches’ tower,
Where Hellebore and Hemlock seem to weave
Round its dark vaults a melancholy bower
For spirits of the dead at night’s enchanted hour.”

The Hebrew prophet Hosea says of this sinister plant: “Judgment springeth up as Hemlock in the furrows of the field.”——At the end of Summer the dead stalks of the Hemlock rattle in the wind, and are called by country folk Kecksies, an old English word applied to the dry hollow stalks of umbelliferous plants. Formerly the Hemlock was called Kex.——Astrologers assign the plant to Saturn.

HEMP.—Herodotus speaks of Hemp (Cannabis sativa) as a novelty in his time, lately introduced into Thrace from Scythia.——A curious prophecy relating to English kings and queens, and the prosperity of England, has been preserved by Lord Bacon, who heard of it when Queen Elizabeth was “in the flower of her age”:—

“When Hempe is spun,
England’s done.”

“Whereby it was generally conceived that, after the princes had reigned, which had the principal letters of that word Hempe (which were Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and Elizabeth), England should come to utter confusion, which is verified in the change of the name; for that the king’s style is now no more of England, but of Britain.”——In some parts of the country, on Midsummer Eve, but in Derbyshire on St. Valentine’s Eve, as the clock strikes twelve, young women desirous of knowing their future husbands go into a churchyard, and run round the church, scattering Hemp-seed, and repeating the while, without stopping, these lines:—

“I sow Hemp-seed: Hemp-seed I sow:
He that loves me the best
Come after me and mow.”

The sowing of Hemp-seed is performed by maidens, at midnight, on Midsummer Eve in Cornwall, on St. Martin’s night in Norfolk, and on All Hallow Eve in Scotland; the incantation being completed by the recital of the following or similar lines:—

“Hemp-seed I sow thee,
Hemp-seed grow thee:
And he who will my true-love be
Come after me and show thee.”

The figure of the girl’s lover, it is then supposed, will appear and run after her. In the poem of ‘The Cottage Girl,’ the rite of sowing Hemp-seed is thus described:—

“To issue from beneath the thatch,
With trembling hand she lifts the latch,
And steps, as creaks the feeble door,
With cautious feet the threshold o’er;
Lest, stumbling on the horseshoe dim,
Dire spells unsinew ev’ry limb.
“Lo! shudd’ring at the solemn deed,
She scatters round the magic seed,
And thrice repeats, ‘The seed I sow,
My true-love’s scythe the crop shall mow.’
Straight, as her frame fresh horrors freeze,
Her true love with his scythe she sees.
“And next, she seeks the Yew-tree shade,
Where he who died for love is laid;
There binds, upon the verdant sod
By many a moonlight fairy trod,
The Cowslip and the Lily-wreath
She wove her Hawthorn hedge beneath;
And whisp’ring, ‘Ah! may Colin prove
As constant as thou wast to love!’
Kisses, with pale lip full of dread,
The turf that hides his clay-cold head!”

Perhaps the origin of this custom of Hemp-sowing is the fact that from Hemp is made cord, which is used to bind, attach, or secure an object. The Sicilians, indeed, employ Hemp as a charm to secure the affection of those they love. De Gubernatis tells us that, on Friday (the day consecrated to the remembrance of our Lord’s Passion), they take a Hempen thread, and twenty-five needlefuls of coloured silk; and at midnight they plait this, saying:

“Chistu è cánnava di Christu,
Servi pi attaccari a chistu.”

Forthwith they go to the church with the plait in their hands, and enter at the moment of the Consecration: then they tie three knots in the plait, previously adding a little of the hair of the loved one; after which they invoke all evil spirits to entice the person beloved towards the person who craves his or her love.——In Piedmont, there is a belief that Hemp spun on the last day of Carnival will bring bad luck. On that day, in some districts, the following ceremony is gone through to divine what sort of Hemp crop may be expected:—A bonfire is lighted, and the direction of the flames is attentively watched: if the flames mount straight upwards, the crop will be good; but if they incline either way, it will be bad.——In the Côtes-du-Nord, France, there is a belief that Hemp enrages those who have been bitten by dogs. When fowls eat Hemp-seed, they cease to lay, and commence to sit. It is customary to leave the finest sprig of Hemp, that the bird St. Martin may be able to rest on it.——The Egyptians prepare an intoxicating substance from Hemp, called Hashîsh. This they roll into balls the size of a Chesnut, and after having swallowed a few of these, they experience ecstatic visions.——The Arabians concoct a preparation of Hemp, which produces the most varied hallucinations, so that those who are intoxicated by it imagine that they are flying, or that they are changed into a statue, that their head is cut off, that their limbs stretch out to immense lengths, or that they can see, even through stone walls, “the colour of the thoughts of others” and the words of their neighbours.——In the Chinese Liao chai chih ye (A.D. 60–70), it is recorded that two friends wandering among the mountains culling simples, find at a fairy bridge two lovely maidens guarding it; at their invitation, the two friends cross this “azure bridge” and are regaled with Huma (Hemp—the Chinese Hashîsh); forthwith they fall deeply in love with their hostesses, and spend with them in the Jasper City what appears to them a few blissful days: at length, becoming home-sick, they return, to find that seven generations have passed, and that they have become centenarians.——To dream of Hemp betokens ill-luck.——Astrologers assign Hemp to the rule of Saturn.

HENBANE.—There are two species of Henbane (Hyoscyamus), the black and the white: the black or common Henbane grows on waste land by roadsides, and bears pale, woolly, clammy leaves, with venomous-looking cream-coloured flowers, and has a fœtid smell. Pliny calls this black Henbane a plant of ill omen, employed in funeral repasts, and scattered on tombs. The ancients thought that sterility was the result of eating this sinister plant, and that babes at the breast were seized with convulsions if the mother had partaken of it.——Henbane was called Insana, and was believed to render anyone eating it stupid and drowsy: it was also known as Alterculum, because those that had partaken of it became light-headed and quarrelsome.——According to Plutarch, the dead were crowned with chaplets of Henbane, and their tombs decorated with the baneful plant, which, for some unknown reason, was also employed to form the chaplets of victors at the Olympic games. Hercules is sometimes represented with a crown of Henbane. Priests were forbidden to eat Henbane, but the horses of Juno fed on it; and to this day, on the Continent, Henbane is prescribed for certain equine disorders.——Albertus Magnus calls Henbane the sixth herb of Jupiter, and recommends it especially for liver complaints.——In Sanscrit, Henbane is called Aj’amoda, or Goat’s Joy. Both sheep and goats will eat the plant sparingly, but swine are said really to like it, and in England it is well known as Hog’s Bean.——In Piedmont, there is a tradition that if a hare be sprinkled with Henbane juice, all the hares in the neighbourhood will run away. They also have a saying, when a mad dog dies, that he has tasted Henbane.——In Germany, there is a superstitious belief that Henbane will attract rain.——The English name of Henbane was given to the plant on account of the baneful effects of its seed upon poultry, for, according to Matthiolus, birds that have eaten the seeds perish soon after, as do fishes also.——Anodyne necklaces, made of pieces of this root, are sometimes worn by infants to facilitate teething, and the leaves are smoked by country people to allay toothache. Gerarde says, “The root boiled with vinegre, and the same holden hot in the mouth, easeth the pain of the teeth. The seed is used by mountebank tooth-drawers, which run about the country, to cause worms to come forth of the teeth, by burning it in a chafing-dish of coles, the party holding his mouth over the fume thereof; but some crafty companions, to gain money, convey small lute-strings into the water, persuading the patient that those small creepers came out of his mouth or other parts which he intended to cure.”——The plant was one of those sought for by witches, and used in their potions.

“And I ha’ been plucking plants among
Hemlock, Henbane, Adder’s-tongue.”—Ben Jonson.

Astrologers place Henbane under the rule of Saturn.

HENNA.—In the Canticles, the royal poet says: “My beloved is unto me as a cluster of Camphire in the vineyards of Engedi.” The Camphire mentioned here, and in other parts of Scripture, is the same shrub which the Arabs call Henna (Lawsonia inermis), the leaves of which are still used by women in the East to impart a ruddy tint to the palms of their hands and the soles of their feet. Throughout Egypt, India, Persia, Arabia, and Greece, it is held in universal estimation for its beauty and sweet perfume. Mohammed pronounced it the chief of the sweet-scented flowers of this world and of the next. In Egypt, the flowers are sold in the street, the vendor calling out as he proceeds—“O, odours of Paradise! O flowers of the Henna!” The Egyptian women obtain from the powdered leaves a paste, with which they stain their fingers and feet an orange colour that will last for several weeks. This they esteem an ornament. Gerarde describes the Henna, or Henne-bush, as a kind of Privet, which in his day grew in Syria near the city Ascalon, and he says “Bellonius writeth that not onely the haire, but also the nether parts of man’s body, and nailes likewise, are colored and died herewith, which is counted an ornament among the Turks.”——The Hindus call the Henna-flower Mindi, and the females, like the Egyptians, employ it to colour their nails, fingers, and the soles of their feet an orange hue. The miraculous stone, which they call Gauri, or Parvati, received its name and its ruddy colour from being touched by the foot of the divine wife of Siva, which had previously been stained with the juice of Mindi. Henna-flowers are of a pale yellow tint, and emit a sweet perfume; they are made into garlands by the Hindus, and offered to travellers in official ceremonies; thus we read that at the reception of M. Rousselet by the King of Gwalior, the ceremony concluded by the guests being decked with garlands of Henna-flowers, placed around their necks and hands. An extract prepared from these flowers is employed in religious ceremonies.

HERB BENNETT.—The Avens, Herb Bennett, or Herba Benedicta (Geum urbanum), occurs as an architectural decoration towards the end of the thirteenth century, and is found associated with old church paintings. The Holy Trinity and the five wounds of our Lord are thought to be symbolised in its trefoiled leaf and the five golden petals of its blossom. The flower has several rural names, such as Star of the Earth, Goldy-flower, and Blessed Herb (a translation of the Latin Herba Benedicta, of which Herb Bennett is simply a corruption). This last name was given to it from an ancient belief that when the root is in the house, the Devil is powerless and flies from it; wherefore it was considered blessed above all herbs. Herb Bennett was also reported to be hostile to all venomous beasts: if grown in a garden, no such creature would approach within scent of it, and the root carried about the person of any man ensured his immunity from the attacks of monsters or reptiles.——Formerly, the appellation Herba Benedicta, was applied not only to the Avens, but also to the Hemlock and the Valerian. Dr. Prior remarks that “in point of fact the proper name of these plants was not Herba Benedicta, but Sti. Benedicti herba, St. Benedict’s herb (German, Sanct Benedicten-kraut), and was assigned to such as were supposed to be antidotes, in allusion to a legend of St. Benedict, which represents that, upon his blessing a cup of poisoned wine which a monk had given to destroy him, the glass was shivered to pieces.”——By astrologers, Avens is deemed a herb of Jupiter.

HERB CARPENTER.—The Prunella vulgaris, from its efficacy in healing wounds inflicted by chisels, sickles, and other sharp instruments used by working-men, was formerly known as Herb Carpenter, Sickle-wood, and Hook-weed, as well as by the name it is still called by—Self-heal.——It is a herb of Venus.

HERB CHRISTOPHER.—The name of Herb Christopher is applied by Gerarde to a species of Aconite, and to the Osmund Fern. Parkinson gives the Baneberry the same title.

HERB GERARD.—Aishweed, Gout-wort, or Herb Gerard (Ægopodium Podagraria), was named after St. Gerard, who used to be invoked against the gout, a disease for which this plant was highly esteemed as a remedy.

Herb Impious.—See Everlasting Flower.

HERB MARGARET.—The Daisy (Bellis perennis) was also formerly called Herba Margarita, Herb Margaret, or Marguerite (French). The flower is erroneously supposed to have been named after the virtuous St. Margaret of Antioch, “Maid Margarete, that was so meeke and milde”—who was invoked because in her martyrdom she prayed for lying-in women; whereas it derives its name from St. Margaret of Cortona. (See Marguerite).

Herb of Grace.—See Rue.

HERB OF THE CROSS.—In Brittany, the Vervain (Verbena officinalis) is called the Herb of the Cross, and is supposed to be endowed with remarkable healing qualities. J. White (1624) writes thus of it:—

“Hallow’d be thou, Vervain, as thou growest in the ground,
For on the Mount of Calvary thou first was found.
Thou healedst our Saviour Jesus Christ,
And staunchedst His bleeding wound.
In the name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I take thee from the ground.”

In the Flax-fields of Flanders, a plant is found called the Roodselken, the crimson spots on the leaves of which betoken the Divine blood which trickled on it from the Cross, and the stain of which neither snow nor rain has ever been able to wash off.——In Palestine, the red Anemone is called “Christ’s Blood-drops,” from the belief that the flower grew on Mount Calvary. In Cheshire, the Orchis maculata, which is there called Gethsemane, is supposed to have sprung up at the foot of the Cross. The Milk-wort, Gang-flower, or Rogation-flower (Polygala vulgaris) is called the Cross-flower from its blooming in Passion week. The Galium cruciatum is called Cross-wort because its leaves are placed in the form of a cross. The early Italian painters, in their paintings of the Crucifixion, introduced the Wood-Sorrel (Oxalis acetosella), probably from its triple leaf symbolising the Trinity. The four-leaved Clover is an emblem of the Cross. All cruciform flowers are of good and happy augury, having been marked with the sign of the Cross.

HERB PARIS.—The narcotic plant called One-berry, Herb True-love, or Herb Paris (Paris quadrifolia), has obtained the latter name from the Latin Herba paris (Herb of a pair—of a betrothed couple), in allusion to the four broad leaves which proceed from the top of its stalk, and form a cross; being, as Gerarde says, “directly set one against another in manner of a Burgundian Crosse or True-love knot: for which cause among the antients it hath been called Herbe True-love.” Herb Paris bears flowers of a palish green—a colour always suggestive of lurking poison. Every part of the herb contains a poisonous principle, but the leaves and berries were formerly used to expel poisons, especially Aconite, as well as the plague and other pestilential diseases. Matthiolus says that “the chymical oil of the black berries is effectual for all diseases of the eyes, so that it is called Anima oculorum.”——The herb is under the dominion of Venus.

HERB PETER.—The Cowslip (Primula veris), the Schlüsselblume of the Germans, has obtained the name of Herb Peter from its resemblance to the badge of St. Peter—a bunch of keys.

HERB ROBERT.—The species of Crane’s Bill called Herb Robert (Geranium Robertianum) is thought to have derived its name from the fact that it was employed in Germany to cure a disease known as Ruprechts-Plage, from Robert, Duke of Normandy: hence its old Dutch names of Ruprechts-kraut and Robrechts-kraut. The Church, however, connects Herb Robert with St. Robert, Abbot of Molesme, in the eleventh century.——In olden times, the plant was used as a vulnerary; in Wales, it is believed to be a remedy for gout; and in most country places, it is considered efficacious as an insecticide.——Herb Robert is under the rule of Venus.

HERB ST. BARBARA.—Herb St. Barbara, or St. Barbara’s Cress (Barbarea vulgaris), was so called from its growing and being eaten in the Winter, about the time of St. Barbara’s Day—December 4th, old style.

Herb Trinity.—See Pansy.

HERB TWOPENCE.—The Money-wort, or Creeping Loosestrife (Lysimachia nummularia), obtained the name of Two-penny Grass, or Herb Twopence, from its circular leaves, which are arranged in pairs, resembling money in their form. The plant was formerly also called Serpentaria, from a belief that if serpents were hurt or wounded, they healed themselves with this herb. It was highly esteemed as a vulnerary.——Astrologers assign the herb to Venus.

HERB WILLIAM.—Bishop’s Weed, or Ameos (Ammi majus), is said by Gerarde to be called by some Bull-wort (Pool-wort) and Herb William, but he does not give any reason for the name. The plant, according to the old herbalist, was noted for its efficacy, when applied with honey, in removing “blacke and blewe spots which come of stripes.” Its seed was good “to bee drunken in wine against the biting of all manner of venomous beasts, and hath power against all manner of poyson and pestilent fevers, or the plague.”——It is under the dominion of Venus.

HOLLY.—The Holly or Holme (Ilex Aquifolium) derives its name from the Anglo-Saxon Holegn, whilst another ancient designation, Hulver, or as Chaucer wrote it, Hulfeere, has been taken from the old Norse Hulfr. From the use made of its branches in decorating churches at Christmas time, the monks, by an easy corruption, bestowed on the Holly the designation of the Holy-tree.——The disciples of Zoroaster, or Fire Worshippers, believe that the Holly-tree casts no shadow, and both in Persia and India they employ an infusion of its leaves for several purposes connected with their religious observances. They also sprinkle the face of a newly-born child with water impregnated with Holly-bark.—-Pliny states that if the Holly, or Hulver-tree, be planted about a house, it will keep away all malign spells and enchantments, and defend the house from lightning. He also, among other marvels, relates that the flowers of the Holly would freeze water, and would repel poison, and that if a staff of its wood were thrown to any animal, even if it did not touch him, it would so influence the animal as to cause him to lie down beside it.——The custom of decorating houses and churches with Holly at Christmas is probably derived from the Romans, who were wont to send boughs to their friends during the festival of the Saturnalia, which occurred about the same period, and the Oaks being then bare of leaves, the priests obliged the people to bring in boughs of Holly and Evergreens. There is little doubt that the early Roman Christians, disregarding the church’s interdiction, introduced the heathen practice of decorating their houses with Holly, and in course of time connected it with their own faith.——There is an old English superstition that elves and fairies join the social gatherings at Christmas, and this led to branches being hung up in hall and bower in order that the fays might “hang in each leaf, and cling on every bough during that sacred time when spirits have no power to harm.”——This Evergreen “Christmas” should be taken down on Candlemas Eve. Herrick says:—

“Down with the Holly and Ivy all
Wherewith ye deck the Christmas hall;
So that the superstitious find
No one least branch there left behind;
For look how many leaves there be
Neglected there—maids ’tend to me—
So many goblins ye shall see.”

De Gubernatis tells us, that in certain parts of France, in Switzerland, at Bologna, and in other Continental countries, there is an old custom extant of cutting branches of Holly on Christmas Eve, and hanging them in houses and stables, in the hope of driving away evil spirits and witchcraft. As the Holly-leaf is prickly, it repulses and drives away enemies. An English mediæval ballad illustrates this custom:—

“Her commys Holly, that is so gent,
To please all men is his intent. Alleluia!
But lord and lady of this hall,
Who so ever ageynst Holly call. Alleluia!
Who so ever ageynst Holly do crye,
In a lepe shall he hang full hie. Alleluia!
Who so ever ageynst Holly do syng,
He maye wepe and handys wryng. Alleluia!”

In Germany, Holly is Christdorn—the Thorn woven into the crown placed on our Saviour’s head at the Crucifixion.——Witches are reputed to detest Holly: in its name they see but another form of the word “holy,” and its thorny foliage and blood-red berries are suggestive of the most Christian associations.——In Northumberland, Holly is employed in a form of divination. There the prickly variety is called He-Holly, and the smooth, She-Holly. It is the leaves of the latter only that are deemed proper for divining purposes. These smooth leaves must be plucked late on a Friday, by persons careful to preserve an unbroken silence from the time they go out to the dawn of the following morn. The leaves must be collected in a three-cornered handkerchief, and on being brought home, nine of them must be selected, tied with nine knots into the handkerchief, and placed beneath the pillow. Then, sleep being obtained, dreams worthy of all credit will attend this rite. In another form of divination, a maiden places three pails of water on her bedroom floor, then pins to her night-dress, opposite her heart, three leaves of green Holly, and so retires to rest. She will be aroused from her first sleep by three terrible yells, followed by three horse-laughs, after which the form of her future husband will appear. If he is deeply attached to her, he will change the position of the water pails; if not, he will glide from the room without touching them. This spell is only effectual when performed on All Hallowe’en, Christmas Eve, New Year’s Eve, and Beltane, or Midsummer Eve.——Holly is under the dominion of Saturn.

HOLY PLANTS.—In England, the Angelica sylvestris, for its “angel-like properties,” was, says Parkinson, called Holy Ghost; the Vervain is the Holy Herb, from its use on ancient altars; the Holly was called by the monks of old Holy-tree; and the Hollyhock, Holy Hoke or Hock (an old name for Mallow); the Anastatica Hierochuntina is the Holy Rose of Jericho; the Lucern (Medicago sativa) is Holy Hay; the Holcus odoratus is the Northern Holy Grass; the Hierochloe borealis, the German Holy Grass; the Hemp Agrimony (Eupatorium cannabinum) is Holy Rope, so called from its Hemp-like leaves betokening the rope with which the Saviour was bound; the seed of Wormwood is Holy Seed (Semen sanctum); and Carduus benedictus is the Holy Thistle.

HOMA.—Homa, or Haoma, is the sacred Vine of the Zoroastrians, the first of the trees planted by Ormuzd in the fountain of life, and from which one of their religious ceremonials takes its name. This consists in the extraction of the juice of the Homa-plant by the priest during the recital of prayers; the formal presentation of the liquid extracted to the sacrificial fire; the consumption of a small portion of it by one of the officiating priests; and the division of the remainder among the worshippers.——The Iranians describe two kinds of Haoma or Homa, the white and the yellow. The former is a fabulous plant, the latter, which is used in religious rites, and is extolled for its yellow colour, grows on mountains, and was known to Plutarch.——It has been attempted to identify the Zoroastrian Homa with the Vedic Soma, but the Parsees deny that their sacred plant is ever found in India, and those dwelling in Bombay use the branch of a particular tree, having a knotted stem and leaves like those of the Jasmine. To obtain supplies of the Homa-plant for sacred purposes, a priest is despatched from time to time to Kirman, in Persia, where he receives it in a dry state.

HONESTY.—Honesty (Lunaria biennis) has a variety of names. It is called Lunary and Moonwort, from the disk-like form of its great flat seed vessels, or their silvery and transparent brightness. This peculiarity accounts for its nicknames of White Satin-flower, Money-flower, and Silver Plate.——The Lunaria biennis is mentioned by Chaucer as one of the plants used in incantations:—

“And herbes coude I tell eke many on,
As Egremaine, Valerian, and Lunarie,
And other swiche, if that me list to tarie,
Our lampes brenning bothe night and day,
To bring about our craft if that we may,
Our fournies eke of calcination,
And of wateres albification.”

Drayton also refers to the virtues of the plant:—

“Enchanting Lunary here lies,
In sorceries excelling.”

The poet likewise tells us that this Lunary was considered efficacious in the cure of madness.

“Then sprinkles she the juice of Rue
With nine drops of the midnight dew,
From Lunarie distilling.”

There is a popular superstition that wherever the purple Honesty is found flourishing, the cultivators of the gardens are exceptionally honest.

HONEYSUCKLE.—The Honeysuckle, or Woodbine (Lonicera), is so called on account of the honey-dew found so plentifully on its foliage. Originally, the word Honeysuckle was applied to the Meadow Clover (Trifolium pratense), which is still so called in the Western Counties. French Honeysuckle (Hedysarum coronarium) is a foreign forage-plant. Chaucer makes the Woodbine an emblem of fidelity:

“And tho’ that were chapelets on his hede
Of fresh Wodebind be such as never were
To love untrue in word, ne thought, ne dede,
But ay, stedfast, ne for pleasaunce ne fere,
Tho’ that they shudde their hertis all to tere,
Would never flit, but ever were stedfast,
Till that ther livis there assunder brast.”

Caprifolium, a specific name of the Honeysuckle, was poetically used by old botanists because the leaf, or rather the stem, climbs over high places where goats fear not to tread: hence the plant is sometimes called by country folks, Goat’s-leaf. One of its French names, also, is Chèvrefeuille, which country patois abbreviates to Cherfeu, or Dear Flame: hence the plant is presented by ardent lovers to their sweethearts as an intimation of the state of their affections.——The French are fond of planting Honeysuckle in their cemeteries, and Alphonse Karr describes it as a plant which seems to devote itself to the tomb, the most magnificent bushes being found in cemeteries. He further says: “There is a perfume more exciting, more religious, even than that of incense; it is that of the Honeysuckles which grow over tombs upon which Grass has sprung up thick and tufted with them, as quickly as forgetfulness has taken possession of the hearts of the survivors.”——In olden times, consumptive invalids, or children suffering from hectic fever, were thrice passed through a circular wreath of Woodbine, cut during the increase of the March moon, and let down over the body from head to foot. We read of a sorceress, who healed sundry women, by taking a garland of green Woodbine, and causing the patient to pass thrice through it: afterwards the garland was cut in nine pieces, and cast into the fire.——Woodbine appears to have been a favourite remedy with Scotch witches, who, in effecting magical cures passed their patients (generally) nine times through a girth or garland of green Woodbine.——In Lower Germany, the Honeysuckle is called Albranke, the witch snare.——Astrologers consider Woodbine to be under the rule of Mercury.

HOP.—The Hop (Humulus Lupulus) is referred to in an old English proverb:—

“Till St. James’s day be come and gone,
There may be Hops and there may be none.”

The cultivated Hop, however, was not brought into England until the reign of Henry VIII., when it was imported from Flanders, as recorded in the distich:—

“Hops and turkeys, mackerel and beer,
Came to England all in one year.”

The Hop-leaf has become in Russia proverbial as the best of leaves. King Vladimir, in 985, when signing a peace with the Bulgars, swore to keep it till stone swam on the water, or Hop-leaves sank to the bottom. It is a very old custom in Russia to cover the head of a bride with Hop-leaves—typifying joy, abundance, and intoxication.——Astrologers place Hops under the rule of Mars.

HOREHOUND.—Horehound (Marrubium) is the Herb which the Egyptians dedicated to their god Horus, and which the priests called the Seed of Horus, or the Bull’s Blood, and the Eye of the Star. Strabo attributed to the plant magical properties as a counter-poison. Horehound is one of the five plants which are stated by the Mishna to be the “bitter herbs” ordered to be taken by the Jews at the Feast of the Passover. An infusion of its leaves has an ancient reputation as being valuable in consumptive cases, coughs, and colds, and, according to Gerarde, “is good for them that have drunke poyson, or that have been bitten of serpents.” It is a herb of Mercury, hot in the second degree and dry in the third.——To dream of Horehound indicates that you will suffer imprisonment.

HORNBEAM.—Gerarde tells us that the Horn Beam (Carpinus Betulus) was so called from its wood having been used to yoke horned cattle, as well by the Romans in olden times as in his own time and country, and growing so hard and tough with age as to be more like horn than wood. Hence it was also called Hardbeam and Yoke-Elm. Evelyn says the tree was called Horse-Beech; and in Essex it is known as the Witch-Hazel.——In the country districts around Valenciennes, there is a pleasant custom on May-day morning, when, over the doorway of their sweethearts, rustic lovers hasten to suspend, as a sign of their devotion, branches of Hornbeam or Birch.

HORSE-CHESNUT.—It has been suggested that the Horse-Chesnut (Æsculus Hippocastanum) derived its name from the resemblance of the cicatrix of its leaf to a horse-shoe, with all its nails evenly placed. The old writers, however, seem to have considered that the Horse-Chesnut was so called from the Nuts being used in Turkey (the country from which we first received the tree) as food for horses touched in the wind. Thus we read in Parkinson’s ‘Paradisus’:—“They are usually in Turkey given to horses in their provender to cure them of coughs, and help them being broken winded.”——Evlia Effendi, a Moslem Dervish, who travelled over a large portion of the Turkish empire in the beginning of the seventeenth century, says: “The Santon Akyazli lived forty years under the shade of a wild Chesnut-tree, close to which he is buried under a leaden-covered cupola. The Chesnuts, which are as big as an egg, are wonderfully useful in the diseases of horses.” Tradition says that this tree sprang from a stick which the saint once thrust in the ground, that he might roast his meat on it.——The Venetians entertain the belief that one of these Nuts carried in the pocket is a sure charm against hemorrhoids.——When Napoleon I. returned to France on March 20th, 1814, a Horse-Chesnut in the Tuileries garden was found to be in full blossom. The Parisians regarded this as an omen of welcome, and in succeeding years hailed with interest the early flowering of the Marronnier du Vingt Mars.——(See also Chesnut).

HORSE-KNOT.—The flowers of the Horse-knot Centaurea nigra are also called Hard-heads and Iron-Heads, from the resemblance of the knotted involucre to an old weapon called Loggerhead, which consisted of a ball of iron fixed to a long handle, the precursor of the life-preserver, and the origin of the expression “coming to loggerheads.”——In the Northern Counties, the following rite is frequently observed by young people as a divination:—Let a youth or maiden pull from its stalk the flower of the Horse-Knot, cut the tops of the stamens with a pair of scissors, and lay the flower by in a secret place, where no human eye can see it. Let him (or her) think through the day, and dream through the night, of the beloved one: then, on looking at the flower the next day, if the stamens have shot out, the anxious sweetheart may expect success in love; but if not, disappointment. (See Centaury).

HORSERADISH.—The Horseradish (Cochlearia Armoracia) is stated to be one of the five plants referred to by the Mishna, as the “bitter herbs” ordered to be partaken of by the Jews during the Feast of the Passover; the other four being Coriander, Horehound, Lettuce, and Nettle.——Horseradish is under the dominion of Mars.

HORSE-SHOE PLANT.—The Horse-shoe Vetch (Hippocrepis) derives its scientific name from the Greek words, hippos, a horse, and crepis, a shoe, in allusion to its singular pods, which resemble a number of horse-shoes united at their extremities. Gerarde grew this plant in his garden, but he tells us that it is a native of Italy and Languedoc, where it flourishes in certain untilled and sunny places. Its Italian name is Sferracavallo, and in De Gubernatis’ Mythologie des Plantes, we find a letter to the author from Mdme. Valérie de Gasparin, detailing the superstition current in Italy respecting this plant. The Countess writes:—“In our infancy, certain old people of the village spoke of the plant which pulls off horse-shoes. My brother tells me that this superstition is to be found in all countries. It takes its origin from the fact that the seed of the plant has the form of a horse-shoe.”——The plant is also reputed by some people to open locks. An identical superstition exists in England with regard to the Moonwort (Botrychium Lunaria), which is known as Unshoe-the-Horse. (See Moonwort).

HOUND’S TONGUE.—The Cynoglossum was probably so named on account of the form and soft texture of the leaf. It is called Hound’s Tongue not only in England, but all over the Continent, and the reason given by an old writer is, that “it ties the tongues of hounds; whether true or not, I never tried; yet I cured the biting of a mad dog with this only medicine.” Miraldus said, that if a portion of the plant were laid beneath the feet, it would prevent dogs from barking at the wearer. Robert Turner states that Hound’s Tongue “cures the biting of dogs, either mad or tame. I lay fourteen weeks once under a chyrurgeon’s hand for cure of a dog’s biting; but, at last, I effected the cure myself, by applying to the wound Hound’s Tongue leaves, changing them once in four-and-twenty hours.” The plant has a strong and disagreeable odour, which Gerarde tells us caused the Dutchmen to change the plant’s name, substituting for “Tongue” an impolite word, expressive of the odour of the foliage.——Cynoglossum is a herb of Saturn.

HOUSELEEK.—The House-leek (Sempervivum) had, in olden times, the names of Jupiter’s Beard, Jupiter’s Eye, Bullock’s Eye, and Sengreene (a word derived from the Anglo-Saxon, and expressing the same idea as the plant’s Latin name Sempervivum, evergreen). The old Dutch name of the Houseleek, Donderbloem, Thunder-flower, refers to the popular belief that the plant was a preservative against thunder. Charlemagne ordered the Houseleek to be planted on the roof of every house on this account. Miraldus is stated to have declared that this lowly plant preserves what it grows upon from fire and lightning; and Sir Thomas Browne has left on record his belief that Houseleek is a “defensative from lightning.”——In olden times there existed a belief that Houseleek would suppress in children fevers given to them by witchcraft or sorcery. According to Albertus Magnus, he who rubbed his hands with the juice of the Houseleek would be insensible to pain when taking red-hot iron in his hands.——It is considered unlucky to uproot the Houseleek; and there is a curious notion, still in existence, that it is also unlucky to let it blow; the flower-stalk is, therefore, carefully cut off directly it begins to shoot up.——In Italy, on Midsummer Eve, rustic maidens employ Houseleek for divining purposes. They gather buds to represent their various lovers, and on the following morning the bud which has flowered the most freely indicates the future husband. In Tuscany, they pound the Houseleek the first Friday after the birth of an infant, and administer to it the expressed juice, which is thought to preserve the babe from convulsions, and to ensure it a long life.——According to astrologers, Houseleek is a herb of Jupiter.

Hurt-Sickle.—See Centaury.

HYACINTH.—From the time of Homer to the present day the Hyacinth has been celebrated in the lays of the poets. Mythology tells us that the flower sprang from the blood of Hyacinthus, a comely Laconian youth, much beloved both by Apollo and Zephyr: preferring, however, the sun to the wind, he kindled in the breast of the latter god a feeling of jealousy and desire for revenge. The opportunity soon came. Unsuspecting Hyacinthus playing a game of quoits with Apollo, Zephyr, unperceived, seized the opportunity basely to cause his rival to become the innocent means of their common favourite’s death: for whilst a quoit thrown by the sun-god whirled through the air, Zephyr treacherously blew it from its course till it struck the head of the ill-fated Hyacinthus, and killed him, to the great sorrow of his innocent slayer. Unable to restore his favourite companion to life, Apollo, as a memorial of him, caused the flower which has since borne his name to spring from his blood. Rapin refers to the story as follows:—

“If spring proves mild ’tis Hyacinthus’ time,
A flower which also rose from Phœbus’ crime;
Th’ unhappy quoit which rash Apollo threw,
Obliquely flying, smote his tender brow,
And pale alike he fell, and Phœbus stood,
One pale with guilt, and one with loss of blood;
Whence a new flower with sudden birth appears,
And still the mark of Phœbus’ sorrow wears;
Spring it adorns, and Summer’s scenes supplies
With blooms of various forms and various dyes.”

Ovid gives a slightly different version of the tragedy, which he narrates in the following lines:—

“The mid-day sun now shone with equal light
Between the past and the succeeding night;
They strip, then, smoothed with suppling oil, essay
To pitch the rounded quoit, their wonted play:
A well-pois’d disk first hasty Phœbus threw;
It cleft the air, and whistled as it flew;
It reach’d the mark, a most surprising length,
Which spoke an equal share of art and strength.
Scarce was it fall’n, when with too eager hand
Young Hyacinth ran to snatch it from the sand;
But the curst orb, which met a stony soil,
Flew in his face with violent recoil.
Both faint, both pale and breathless now appear,
The boy with pain, the am’rous god with fear.
He ran, and rais’d him bleeding from the ground,
Chafes his cold limbs, and wipes the fatal wound:
Then herbs of noblest juice in vain applies;
The wound is mortal, and his skill defies.”
* * * * * * * *
“While Phœbus thus the laws of fate reveal’d,
Behold the blood which stained the verdant field
Is blood no longer; but a flower full blown
Far brighter than the Tyrian scarlet shone.
A Lily’s form it took; its purple hue
Was all that made a diff’rence to the view.
Nor stopp’d he here; the god upon its leaves
The sad expression of his sorrow leaves;
And to this hour the mournful purple wears
Ai, Ai, inscribed in funeral characters.
Nor are the Spartans, who so much are famed
For virtue, of their Hyacinth ashamed;
But still with pompous woe and solemn state,
The Hyacinthian feasts they yearly celebrate.”—Ozell.

The solemnities called Hyacinthia lasted three days, during which the people ate no bread, but subsisted on sweetmeats, and abstained from decorating their hair with garlands, as on ordinary occasions. On the second day, a troop of youths entertained spectators by playing upon the harp and flute, and chanting choruses in honour of Apollo. Numbers appeared mounted upon richly-caparisoned horses, who sang rustic songs, and were accompanied by a throng dancing to vocal and instrumental music. Females engaged in chariot races, and the most beautiful maidens, sumptuously attired, drove about in splendidly adorned vehicles, singing hymns. Hundreds of victims were offered on the altars of Apollo; and the votaries with free-handed hospitality entertained their friends and slaves.——Many allusions are made by the poets to the mournful letters A I, supposed to be visible on the petals of

“The languid Hyacinth, who wears
His bitter sorrows painted on his bosom.”

Hunt, after entering into the vexed question as to the particular flower alluded to by Ovid, quotes a passage from Moschus, which he thus translates:—

“Now tell your story, Hyacinth, and show
Ai, Ai, the more amidst your sanguine woe.”

There has been much diversity of opinion expressed about the Hyacinth of the ancient poets. The claims of the modern flower to be the purple blossom that sprang from the blood of Hyacinthus are disputed, and the general opinion is that the Martagon Lily was the plant referred to by the poet. The Gladiolus and the Larkspur, however, have both been named as the flower bearing the expression of grief A I, A I, on the petals.——Homer mentions the Hyacinth among the flowers which formed the couch of Jupiter and Juno.

“Thick new-born Violets a soft carpet spread
And clust’ring Lotus swelled the rising bed,
And sudden Hyacinths the turf bestrow
And flow’ry Crocus made the mountains glow.”

In allusion to the crisped and curled blossoms of the Hyacinth, poets have been fond of describing curly hair as Hyacinthine locks. Milton writes:—

“And Hyacinthine locks
Round from his parted forelock manly hung
Clustering.”

Byron makes the same comparison, and says the idea is common to both Eastern and Grecian poets. Collins has the same simile in his ‘Ode to Liberty.’

“The youths, whose locks divinely spreading,
Like vernal Hyacinths in sullen hue.”

The old English Jacinth, or Harebell, called by the French Jacinthe des bois (Wood Hyacinth) is botanically distinguished as Hyacinthus non scriptus, because it has not the A I on the petals, and is not therefore the poetical Hyacinth. (See Harebell).

Hypericum.—See St. John’s Wort.

HYSSOP.—In the Bible, the name of Hyssop has been given to some plant that has not been identified, but is popularly associated at the present day with Hyssopus officinalis. In many early representations of the Crucifixion, wild Hyssop has been depicted, it is presumed in mockery, as forming the crown worn by our Saviour. Parkinson, in his ‘Paradisus,’ says of the Golden Hyssop, that the leaves “provoke many gentlewomen to wear them in their heads and on their armes, with as much delight as many fine flowers can give.”——To dream of Hyssop portends that friends will be instrumental to your peace and happiness.——The plant is under Jupiter’s dominion.

ILEX.—The Ilex (Quercus Ilex) is, perhaps, better known in England as the Evergreen or Holm Oak: in France, it is called Chêne vert. On account of its dark and evergreen foliage, the Ilex is regarded as a funereal tree, and a symbol of immortality, like the Cypress, the Cedar, and other conifers. It was consecrated to Hecate, and the Fates wore chaplets of its leaves. The drunken Silenus was wont, also, to be crowned with its foliage.——Virgil associates the Ilex with the raven, and tells us that from its dark foliage may be heard issuing the mournful croakings of that funereal bird. Ovid, on the other hand, informs us that, in the Golden Age, the bees, living emblems of the immortal soul, sought the Ilex, to obtain material for their honey.——Pliny speaks of a venerable Ilex which grew in the Vatican at Rome, which bore an inscription, and was regarded as a sacred tree; and of three of these trees at Tibur, which the inhabitants venerated as being almost the founders of the people.——The Ilex being very combustible, and attracting lightning, was thought to render thereby a service to man, in drawing upon itself the effects of the anger of the gods: hence it is somewhat remarkable that in Greece it is regarded as a tree of bad omen, and has the following legend attached to it:—When it was decided at Jerusalem to crucify Christ, all the trees held a counsel, and unanimously agreed not to allow their wood to be defiled by becoming the instrument of punishment. But there was a second Judas among the trees. When the Jews arrived with axes to procure wood for the cross destined for Jesus, every trunk and branch split itself into a thousand fragments, so that it was impossible to use it for the cross. The Ilex alone remained whole, and gave up its trunk for the purpose of being fashioned into the instrument of the Passion. So to this day the Grecian woodcutters have such a horror of the tree, that they fear to sully their axe or their hearth-stones by bringing them in contact with the accursed wood. However, according to the Dicta Sancti Aegidii (quoted by De Gubernatis), Jesus Himself would seem to have a preference for the tree which generously gave itself up to die with the Redeemer; for we find that on most occasion when he appeared to the saints, it was near an Ilex-tree.——In Russia, the Ilex, so far from being regarded with disdain, is looked upon as a benefactor and worker of miraculous cures among children. In certain districts, whenever a child is ill, and especially when it is suffering from consumption, they carry it into the forest, where they cleave in two the stem of an Ilex, and pass the child thrice through the cleft, after which they close the cut stem, and bind it securely with cord. Then they carry the child round the tree thrice nine times (the number of days composing the lunar month). Lastly they hang on the branches the child’s shirt, so that the martyr-tree may generously take to itself all the disease hitherto afflicting the child.

INGUDI.—In Bengal, they ascribe to the plant Ingudi (Terminalia, catappa) the extraordinary property of begetting infants. According to De Gubernatis, the Tâpatasaru is also called the Tree of the Anchorite, because with an oil extracted from the crushed fruit the Indian ascetics prepare the oil for their lamps.

IPECACUANHA.—The root of the Psychotria emetica is used generally as an expectorant, but in India in cases of dysentery: its sexsyllabic nomenclature has been thus immortalised by George Canning:—

“Coughing in a shady grove,
Sat my Juliana;
Lozenges I gave my love:
Ipecacuanha!”

IPOMŒA.—The Ipomœas are nearly allied to the Convolvuli, and are among the most lovely of all shrubs. The rosy-red Kâmalatâ, the Love’s Creeper of the Hindus, is a plant by which all desires are granted to such as inherit the Indian Paradise. Ipomœa Bona-nox, “Good-night,” is so named in allusion to its opening its flowers in the evening.

IRIS.—The Iris of “all hues” derives its name from the goddess Iris, one of the Oceanides, a messenger of the gods, and the especial attendant of Juno. As goddess of the rainbow, she is represented with its variegated colours glistening in her wings. Thus Virgil says:—

“Iris on saffron wings arrayed with dew
Of various colours through the sunbeams flew.”

Iris is usually depicted as descending from the rainbow, and her glorious arch is said not to vary more in its colours than the flower which bears her name. Columella observes—

“Nor Iris with her glorious rainbow clothed
So fulgent as the cheerful gardens shine
With their bright offspring, when they’re in their bloom.”

The Greeks plant the Iris on tombs, possibly because the goddess Iris was believed to guide the souls of dead women to their last resting-place, as Mercury conducted the souls of men. The Iris was one of the flowers dedicated to Juno, and with the ancients was wont to be employed as the symbol of eloquence or power; hence the Egyptians placed this flower on the brow of the Sphinx, and on the sceptres of their monarchs. The three leaves of the blossom represent faith, wisdom, and valour. The Iris is supposed to be the flower which forms the terminating ornament of the sceptre of the ancient kings of Babylon and Assyria.——The Franks of old had a custom, at the proclamation of a king, to elevate him upon a shield, or target, and place in his hand a reed of Flag in blossom, instead of a sceptre, and from thence the kings of the first and second race in France are represented with sceptres in their hands like the Flag with its flower, and which flowers became the armorial figures of France.——There is a legend that Clotilda, the wife of the warlike king Clovis, had long prayed for the conversion of her husband, and at length Clovis, having led his army against the Huns, and being in imminent danger of defeat, recommended himself to the God of his sainted wife. The tide of battle turned, he obtained a complete victory, and was baptised by St. Remi. On this occasion, owing to a vision of St. Clotilda, the Lilies (Iris) were substituted in the arms of France for the three frogs or toads which Clovis had hitherto borne on his shield. In the pictures of St. Clotilda, she is generally represented attended by an angel holding a shield on which are the three Fleurs de Lys. This occurred early in the sixth century. Louis VII., in consequence of a dream, assumed it as his device in 1137, when engaged in the second expedition of the Crusaders, and the Iris-flower soon became celebrated in France as the Fleur de Louis, which was first contracted into Fleur de Luce, and afterwards into Fleur de Lys, or Fleur de Lis (Lily-flower—although it has no affinity to the Lily), and was incorporated in the arms of France, and formed one of the embellishments of the crown.——Pope Leo III. presented Charlemagne with a blue banner, semée of golden Fleurs de Lys, and the banner coming from the Pope was supposed by the ignorant to have descended from heaven.——Other traditions respecting this blue banner relate that an angel gave it to Charlemagne, that St. Denis gave it to the kings of France, and that an angel brought it to Clovis after his baptism.——The Fleur de Lys appertains to the Bourbon race, and was made the ornament of the northern radius of the compass in honour of Charles of Anjou, who was King of Sicily at the time of this great discovery. When Edward III. claimed the crown of France in 1340, he quartered the ancient shield of France with the lion of England. After many changes of position, the Fleur de Lys finally disappeared from the English shield in the first year of the present century. (See also Flower de Luce).

Iron-Head and Hard-Head.—See Horse-Knot.

IVY.—Kissos (Greek for Ivy) was the original name of the infant Bacchus, who, abandoned by his mother Semele, was hidden under an Ivy-bush, which was subsequently named after him. Another Hellenic tradition makes Kissos a son of Bacchus, who, whilst dancing before his father, suddenly dropped down dead. The goddess Gæa (the Earth), compassionating the unfortunate youth, changed him into the Ivy, which afterwards received his name—Kissos.——The god Bacchus is said to have worshipped the Ivy under the name of Kissos; the plant was sacred to him, and he is represented crowned with the leaves of Ivy as well as with those of the Vine. The god’s thyrsus was also crowned with Ivy. In Greece and Rome, Black Ivy was used to decorate the thyrsus of Bacchus in commemoration of his march through India. This Ivy bears yellow berries, and is common in the Himalayas; it was, therefore, appropriately selected as the shrub wherewith to crown Alexander in his Indian expedition.——According to Plutarch, the priests of Jupiter were bound to shun the Vine (in order to preserve themselves from intoxication), and to touch the Ivy, which was believed to impart a sort of prophetic transport. Bacchus, therefore, crowned with Ivy, became a god both victorious and prophetic.——At the Dionysian festivals, the worshippers were crowned with Ivy, Vine-leaves, Fir, &c. Certain of the men engaged in the procession wore chaplets of Ivy and Violets, and the women—who, worked up into a kind of frenzy, executed fantastic dances—often carried garlands and strings of Ivy-leaves.——Pliny says that Ivy-berries, taken before wine, prevent its intoxicating effects. Probably the Bacchanals’ chaplet and the Ivy-bough formerly used as the sign of a tavern, both derived their origin from the belief that Ivy in some form counteracted the effects of wine.——On this point, Coles says: “Box and Ivy last long green, and therefore vintners make their garlands thereof; though, perhaps, Ivy is the rather used because of the antipathy between it and wine.” Kennett tells us that, in olden times, “the booths in fairs were commonly dressed with Ivy-leaves, as a token of wine there sold, the Ivy being sacred to Bacchus; so was the tavern bush, or frame of wood, drest round with Ivy forty years since, though now left off for tuns or barrels hung in the middle of it. This custom gave birth to the present practice of putting out a green bush at the door of those private houses which sell drink during the fair.” De Gubernatis says, that the Ivy to be seen over the doors of Italian wine-shops has the same signification as the Oak-bough—it is a precaution to render the wine innocuous. Chéruel tell us that the French, in suspending Ivy at the door of their cabarets, intend it as a symbol of love.——Ivy, which clings and embraces, has been adopted as the emblem of confiding love and friendship.——There is an old Cornish tradition which relates that the beauteous Iseult, unable to endure the loss of her betrothed, the valiant Tristan, died broken-hearted, and was buried in the same church, but, by order of the king, their graves were placed far asunder. But soon from the tomb of Tristan came forth a branch of Ivy, and from the tomb of Iseult there issued another branch. Both gradually grew upwards, until at last the lovers, represented by the clinging Ivy, were again united beneath the vaulted roof of the sanctuary.——In Greece, the altar of Hymen was encircled with Ivy, and a branch of it was presented to the newly-married couple, as a symbol of the indissoluble knot. It formed the crown of both Greek and Roman poets; and in modern times, female love, constancy, and dependence have been expressed by it. Friendship is sometimes symbolised by a fallen tree, firmly embraced by the verdant arms of the Ivy, with the motto: “Nothing can part us.”——In Northern mythology, Ivy, on account of its black colour, was dedicated to Thor, the god of thunder, and offered to the elf who was supposed to be his messenger.——When, in Germany, they drive the cattle for the first time to pasture, they deck them with a branch of Ivy fashioned into a crown. They believe also that he who carries on his head a crown of Ivy acquires the faculty of recognising witches. In the Tyrol, a similar belief holds good, only there, Rue, Broom, Maidenhair, and Agrimony must be bound together with Ground-Ivy in a bundle, which is to be kept about the person.——In Ross-shire, it is a May-day custom for young girls to pluck sprays of Ivy with the dew on them that have not been touched by steel.——Ivy has long been used in decorating churches and houses at Christmas: thus old Tusser directs:—“Get Ivye and Hull [Holly], woman, deck up thine house.” It seems in the middle ages to have been regarded as a most favoured and auspicious plant; one old song couples the Ivy and Holly as plants well adapted for Christmas time, and the following mediæval carol sings loudly the plant’s praises:—

“The most worthy she is in towne;
He that sayeth other do amysse;
And worthy to bear the crowne:
Veni, coronaberis.
“Ivy is soft and meke of speech,
Ageynst all bale she is blysse;
Well is he that may hyre rech.
Veni, coronaberis.
“Ivy is green, with coloure bright,
Of all trees best she is,
And that I prove will now be right.
Veni, coronaberis.
“Ivy beryth berrys black,
God graunt us all His blysse,
For there shall we nothing lack.
Veni, coronaberis.”

According to an old poem in the British Museum, however, Ivy was considered by some good people only fit to ornament the porches and outer passages of houses, but not the interior.

“Nay my nay, hyt shall not be I wis,
Let Holly have the maystry, as the maner ys.
Holly stoud in the hall, fayre to behold,
Ivy stoud without the dore, she ys ful sore a-cold.
Nay my nay.”

Corymbifer was a surname given to Bacchus, from his wearing a crown of corymbi, or Ivy-berries. These berries were recommended by old physicians as a remedy for the plague, and Pliny averred that when taken before wine, they prevented its intoxicating effects.——There is a popular tradition that an Ivy cup has the property of separating wine from water—the former soaking through, and the latter remaining. An old writer remarks that those who are troubled with the spleen shall find much ease by the continual drinking out of a cup made of Ivy, so as the drink may stand some time therein before it be drunk; for, he adds, “Cato saith that wine put into the Ivy cup will soak through it by reason of the antipathy that is between them;” this antipathy being so great that a drunkard “will find his speediest cure if he drunk a draught of the same wine wherein a handful of Ivy-leaves had been steeped.”——The ancient Scottish clan Gordon claim Ivy as their badge.——Ivy is under the dominion of Saturn. It is considered to be exceedingly favourable to dream of the evergreen climber, portending as it does, friendship, happiness, good fortune, honour, riches, and success.

Ground-Ivy is a name which was formerly applied to the Periwinkle, and to the Ground Pine or Yellow Bugle (called till the beginning of the present century the Forget-Me-Not), but which was afterwards transferred to the Nepeta Glechoma, a plant also known by the rustic names of Gill and Gill-by-the-ground, Haymaids, Cat’s-foot, Ale-hoof, and Tun-hoof. In olden times, it was put into ale, instead of hops, and was also used to clear ale. The juice of the leaves, tunned up in ale, was thought to cure the jaundice and other complaints.

Jacinth.—See Hyacinth.

Jack-by-the-Hedge.—See Erysimum.

Jack-of-the-Buttery.—See Stonecrop.

JACOB’S LADDER.—The Polemonium cœruleum, from its leaflets being arranged in successive pairs.

JAMBU.—The Jambu (Eugenia Jambos) is included among the great Indian cosmogonic trees. It is called, says Prof. De Gubernatis, the Fruit of Kings, on account of the great size of its fruit. According to the Vishnu purâna, the continent Jambudvîpa took its name from the tree Jambu. The fruits of this tree are in point of fact very large, but the fruits of the Indian mythological Jambu attain to the size of an elephant; when they have ripened they fall from the mountain, and the juice which exudes feeds the river Jambu, whose waters are consequently richly endowed with salutary properties, and can neither be tainted nor defiled. We learn from the Dîrghâgama-Sûtra, that the four cardinal points were not only represented by the four elephants which sustained the world, but by four trees of colossal bulk and grandeur. These four trees were the Ghanta, the Kadamba, the Ambala, and the Jambu. The Jambu sprang, it is said, from the south of the mountain Meru, of which the summit was believed to represent the zenith. In the cosmogonic forest of the Himalaya towers the stupendous bulk of the Jambu, and from its roots four great rivers, whose waters are inexhaustible, take their source. It bears during the entire kalpa of the renovation an immortal fruit, like unto gold, great as the vase called Mahâkala. This fruit falls into the rivers, and its pips produce the golden seed which is carried away to the sea, and which is sometimes washed up again, and to be found on its shores. This gold is of incalculable value, and has not its equal in the world for purity.——It appears, according to the Saptaçataka of Hâla, that Indian lovers are fond of secreting themselves beneath the leaves of the Eugenia Jambos, and that the young Indian bride becomes sad with jealousy when she sees her young husband approaching, with his ears decked with the leaves of the Jambu.

JASMINE.—Perfumes and flowers play an important part in the poetry of India, and the Jasmine, which Hindu poets call the “Moonlight of the Grove,” has furnished them with countless images. Thus, in Anvár-i-Suhailî (translated by E. B. Eastwick), we read of a damsel entering the king’s chamber, whose face charms like a fresh Rosebud which the morning breeze has caused to blow, and whose ringlets are compared to the twisting Hyacinth buried in an envelope of the purest Musk:—

“With Hyacinth and Jasmine her perfumed hair was bound,
A posy of sweet Violets her clustering ringlets seemed;
Her eyes with love intoxicate, in witching sleep half drowned,
Her locks, to Indian Spikenard like, with love’s enchantments beamed.”

De Tassy, the translator of the allegories of Aziz Eddin, points out that the Arabian word yâs-min is composed of the word yâs, despair, and min, an illusion. In the allegories we read: “Then the Jasmine uttered this sentence with the expressive eloquence of its mute language: “Despair is a mistake. My penetrating odour excels the perfume of other flowers; therefore lovers select me as a suitable offering to their mistresses; they extract from me the invisible treasures of divinity, and I can only rest when enclosed in the folds and pleats which form in the body of a robe.”——An allusion to the Jasmine is made in the following poetic description of a young girl drooping from a sudden illness:—“All of a sudden the blighting glance of unpropitious fortune having fallen on that Rose-cheeked Cypress, she laid her head on the pillow of sickness; and in the flower-garden of her beauty, in place of the Damask-Rose, sprang up the branch of the Saffron. Her fresh Jasmine, from the violence of the burning illness, lost its moisture, and her Hyacinth, full of curls, lost all its endurance from the fever that consumed her.”——The Indians cultivate specially for their perfume two species of Jasmine—viz., the Jasminum grandiflorum, or Tore, and the J. hirsutum, or Sambac. The Moo-le-hua, a powerful-smelling Jasmine, is used in China and other parts of the East as an adornment for the women’s hair.——It is believed that the Jasmine was first introduced into Europe by some Spaniards, who brought it from the East Indies in 1560.——Loudon relates that a variety of the Jasmine, with large double flowers and exquisite scent, was first procured in 1699 from Goa, by the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and so jealous was he of being the sole possessor of this species, that he strictly forbade his gardener to part with a single cutting. However the gardener was in love, and so, on the birthday of his betrothed, he presented her with a nosegay, in the midst of which was a sprig of this rare Jasmine. Charmed with its fragrance, the girl planted the sprig in fresh mould, and under her lover’s instructions was soon able to raise cuttings from the plant, and to sell them at a high price: by this means she soon saved enough money to enable her to wed the gardener, who had hitherto been too poor to alter his condition. In memory of this tender episode, the damsels of Tuscany still wear a wreath of Jasmine on their wedding days, and the event has given rise to a saying that a “girl worthy of wearing the Jasmine wreath is rich enough to make her husband happy.”——Yellow Jasmine is the flower of the Epiphany.——To dream of this beautiful flower foretells good luck; to lovers it is a sure sign they will be speedily married.

JERUSALEM.—Many plants are found to have been named in olden times after the Holy City. The Lungwort, Pulmonaria officinalis, is the Jerusalem Cowslip; Phlomis is Jerusalem Sage; and Teucrium Botrys is the Oak of Jerusalem, called so from the resemblance of its leaf to that of the Oak. In these three cases the prefix “Jerusalem” seems to have been applied for no particular reason—probably because the plants had an Eastern origin. Salsafy, Tragopogon porrifolius, is the Star of Jerusalem, so named from the star-like expansion of its involucre; and Helianthus tuberosus is the Jerusalem Artichoke, a plant of the same genus as the Sunflower, called Artichoke from the flavour of its tubers. The soup made from it is termed Palestine Soup. In the last two cases, Dr. Prior thinks the prefix “Jerusalem” is simply a corruption of the Italian word girasole, turn-sun, and has been applied to these plants from a popular belief that they turn with the Sun. The Lychnis Chalcedonica is the Jerusalem Cross, which has derived its name from the fact that a variety of it has four instead of five petals, of the colour and form of a Jerusalem Cross.

JEWS’ EARS.—The Auricula Judæ is a Fungus resembling in shape the human ear, which grows usually upon the trunks of the Elder, the tree upon which Judas Iscariot is said by some to have hung himself. Sir John Maundevile relates that he actually saw the identical tree. Bacon says of this excrescence, “There is an herb called Jewes-Eare, that groweth upon the roots and lower parts of the bodies of trees, especially of Elders, and sometimes Ashes. It hath a strange propertie; for in warme water it swelleth, and openeth extremely. It is not greene, but of a darke browne colour. And it is used for squinancies and inflammations in the throat, whereby it seemeth to have a mollifying and lenifying vertue.”

JOAN’S SILVER PIN.—The red-Poppy (Papaver Rhœas) has acquired the name of Joan’s Silver Pin, because, according to Parkinson, the gaudy flower is “fair without and foul within” (in allusion to its yellow juice). Joan’s Silver Pin was a contemptuous term applied to some tawdry ornament displayed ostentatiously by a sloven.

JOB’S TEARS.—The pretty East Indian Grass, Coix lacryma, is called Job’s Tears on account of the formation of its hard beard-like seeds, of which Gerarde says “every graine resembleth the drop or teare that falleth from the eye.”——Among the Arabs, the Fleabane (Inula dysenterica) is also called Job’s Tears (See Fleabane).

JONAH’S GOURD.—According to the Greek version of the Scriptures, the plant under which Jonah sat was a Gourd, but the Vulgate considers it a species of Ivy. The Ricinus communis, the Castor-oil-tree, with its broad palmate leaves, has been, however, identified with the Kikayon, which God caused to rise up and shelter Jonah.

Joseph’s Flower.—See Goat’s Beard.

JUDAS TREE.—The Fig, the Tamarisk, the Aspen, the Dog Rose, the Elder, and the Cercis have all been named as the tree from whose boughs the traitorous Judas, overcome with remorse, hung himself in guilty despair. The idea that the Fig-tree was the tree whereon Judas sought his fate, is a wide-spread one, and probably derives its origin from the fact of our Lord having cursed an unproductive Fig-tree,—the tradition being that, after this malediction, the tree lost its foliage, and soon died; that its wood, when put in the fire, produced smoke, but no flame; and that all its progeny from that time forth became wild Fig-trees.——A Fig-tree growing on the coast of Coromandel, bears the name of Judas’ Purse.——De Gubernatis, on the authority of Dr. J. Pitré, states that, according to a Sicilian tradition, Judas was not hung on a Fig, but on a Tamarisk-tree, called Vruca (Tamarix Africana), much more common than the Tamarix Gallica. The Vruca is only a shrub; but, say the Sicilians, once upon a time it was a great tree, and very handsome. Since, however, the traitor Judas hung himself from its boughs, the tree, owing to a Divine malediction, became merely a shrub, ugly, mis-shapen, small, useless, not even capable of lighting even the smallest fire; from whence has arisen the proverb: “You are like the wood of the Vruca, which neither yields cinders nor fire.”——A Russian proverb says: “There is a tree which trembles, although the wind does not blow.” In the Ukraine, they state that the leaves of the Aspen (Populus tremula) have trembled and shaken ever since the day that Judas hanged himself on a bough of that tree.——In Germany, the Dog Rose (Rosa canina) is a tree of ill repute, and according to tradition, one with which the Devil has had dealings. (See Eglantine). There is a legend that Judas hanged himself on this tree; that in consequence it became accursed, and ever after turned to the earth the points of its thorns; and that from this cause its berries, to this day, are called Judasbeeren.——In England and other countries, there has long existed a tradition that the Elder was the tree on which the traitor-disciple hanged himself. Sir John Maundevile, in his ‘Travels,’ declares that he saw the identical tree; and we read in ‘Piers Plowman’s Vision’:—

“Judas, he japed
With Jewen silver,
And sithen on an Eller
Hanged hymselfe.”

Gerarde, however, in his ‘Herbal’ (1597) denies that the Elder was the tree, but states that the Arbor Judæ, the Judas-tree, is the Cercis Siliquastrum (Wild Carob-tree). “It may,” says the old herbalist, “be called in English Judas-tree, for that it is thought to be that whereon Judas hanged himselfe, and not upon the Elder-tree, as it is vulgarly said.” A similar belief is entertained by the French and Italians, who regard the Cercis Siliquastrum as an infamous tree. The Judas-tree grows about twenty feet high, has pale green foliage and purple papilionaceous flowers, which appear in the Spring in large clusters: they are succeeded by long flat pods, containing a row of seeds. Curiously enough, the Spaniards and Portuguese, on account of what Gerarde terms its “braveness,” call it the “Tree of Love.”

JUJUBE.—The real Jujube-tree is Zizyphus Jujuba, a native of the East Indies, nearly allied to the Paliurus, or Christ’s Thorn: it bears similar yellow flowers and fruit about the size of a middling plum. It is sweet and mealy, and highly esteemed by the natives of the countries to which the tree is indigenous. The lozenges called Jujubes are made from the fruit of Zizyphus vulgaris, which ripens abundantly in the neighbourhood of Paris.

July Flower, the Stock Gilliflower.—See Stock.

JUNIPER.—The ancients called the Juniper generally by the name of Cedar, although Pliny distinguishes the two. Thus Virgil is supposed to have alluded to the Juniper in the line in his ‘Georgic’:—

“Disce et odoratam stabulis accendere Cedrum.”
“But learn to burn within your sheltering rooms
Sweet Juniper.”

The Juniper was consecrated to the Furies. The smoke of its green roots was the incense which the ancients deemed most acceptable to the infernal gods; and they burned its berries during funerals to ban malign influences.——The Juniper has always been looked upon as a protective tree; its powerful odour is stated to defeat the keen scent of the hound, and the hunted hare at the last extremity will seek and find a safe retreat in the cover of its branches. It sheltered the prophet Elijah from the persecutions of King Ahab, and we read in 1 Kings xix., 4, that the prophet lay and slept “under a Juniper-tree.”——According to a tradition common in Italy, the Virgin Mary fled for safety with the infant Jesus, pursued by the relentless soldiers of King Herod. Whilst on their road, the Brooms and the Chick-Peas began to rustle and crackle, and by this noise betrayed the fugitives. The Flax bristled up. Happily for her, Mary was near a Juniper: the hospitable tree opened it branches as arms, and enclosed the Virgin and Child within their folds, affording them a secure hiding-place. Then the Virgin uttered a malediction against the Brooms and the Chick-Peas, and ever since that day they have always rustled and crackled. The Holy Mother pardoned the Flax its weakness, and gave to the Juniper her blessing: on that account, in Italy, branches of Juniper are hung up on Christmas Day in stables and cattle sheds, just as in England, France, and Switzerland, Holly is employed as a decoration.——In Thibet, they burn Juniper-wood as incense in a gigantic altar, with an aperture at the top, which is called Song-boom, and bears some resemblance to a limekiln.——The old notion of the ancients that the burning of Juniper-wood expelled evil spirits from houses evidently led to some superstitious practices in this country in later times. Thus we find Bishop Hall writing:—

“And with glasse stills, and sticks of Juniper,
Raise the black spright that burns not with the fire.”

In some parts of Scotland, during the prevalence of an epidemic, certain mysterious ceremonies are enacted, in which the burning of Juniper-wood plays an important part.——-In Germany and Italy, the Juniper is the object of a superstitious reverence on account of its supposed property of dispersing evil spirits. According to Herr Weber, in some parts of Italy, holes or fissures in houses are brushed over with Juniper-boughs to prevent evil spirits introducing sickness; in other parts, boughs of Juniper are suspended before doorways, under the extraordinary belief that witches who see the Juniper are seized with an irresistible mania to count all its small leaves, which, however, are so numerous that they are sure to make a mistake in counting, and, becoming impatient, go away for fear of being surprised and recognised.——In Waldeck, Germany, when infants fall ill, their parents place in a bunch of Juniper some bread and wool, in order to induce bad spirits to eat, to spin, and so forget the poor little suffering babe. In Germany, a certain Frau Wachholder is held to be the personification and the presiding spirit of the Juniper, who is invoked in order that thieves may be compelled to give up their ill-gotten spoils: this invocation takes place with certain superstitious ceremonies beneath the shadow of a Juniper, a branch of which is bent to the earth. In Germany, also, the Juniper, like the Holly, is believed to drive away from houses and stables, spells and witchcraft of all description, and specially to cast out from cows and horses the monsters which are sometimes believed mysteriously to haunt them. For a similar reason, in Germany, in order to strengthen horses, and to render them tractable and quiet, they administer to them on three successive Sundays before sunrise, three handfuls of salt, and seventy-two Juniper-berries. Prof. De Gubernatis tells us that from a rare Italian book which he possesses, he finds that in Bologna it is customary on Christmas Eve to distribute in most houses branches of Juniper; and moreover, that the best authorities have proved the omnipotence of Juniper against serpents and venomous beasts, who by their bites represent sins; and that the Juniper furnished the wood for the Cross of the Saviour and protected the Prophet Elijah.——In Tuscany, the Juniper receives a benediction in church on Palm Sunday.——In Venetia, Juniper is burnt to purify the air, recalling the ancient Roman custom of burning it instead of incense on the altars.——In Norway and Sweden, the floors are strewed with the tops of Juniper, which diffuse a pleasant fragrance.——Evelyn says that Juniper-berries afford “one of the most universal remedies in the world to our crazy forester,” and he wonders that Virgil should condemn the shadow of such a beneficial tree, but suspects him misreported as having written the following lines:—

“Now let us rise, for hoarseness oft invades
The singer’s voice who sings beneath the shades:
From Juniper unwholesome dews distil.”

The old herbalists recommended the berries of the Juniper for use as counter-poisons and other wholesome medicines, and water wherein these berries had been steeped was held to be health-giving and useful against poisons and pestilent fevers. The smoke of the leaves and wood was said to drive away serpents, “and all infection and corruption of the aire which bring the plague, or such-like contagious diseases.”——The Juniper would appear to be potent in dreams; thus, it is unlucky to dream of the tree itself, especially if the person be sick; but to dream of gathering the berries, if it be in winter, denotes prosperity; whilst to dream of the actual berries signifies that the dreamer will shortly arrive at great honours, and become an important person. To the married it foretells the birth of a male child.——The Juniper is held to be under the dominion of the Sun.

JUNO’S ROSE.—The Lilium candidum has derived its name of Juno’s Rose from the legend that relates how Jupiter, to make his infant son Hercules immortal, put him to the breast of the sleeping Juno; and how, when the babe withdrew from her, the milk which fell from his lips formed the Milky Way, and, falling on earth, caused the White Lily to spring up. (See Lily).

JUNO’S TEARS.—A name originally given by Dioscorides to the Coix lacryma (now called Job’s Tears), but for some unknown reason transferred to the Vervain (Verbena officinalis).

JUPITER’S PLANTS.—The Pink (Dianthus) is Jove’s flower; the Oak is sacred to him because he first taught mankind to live upon Acorns; his sceptre is of Cypress. The Dodonæan Jupiter is usually depicted with a wreath of Oak-leaves; the Olympian Jove wears a wreath of Olive, and his mantle is decorated with various flowers, particularly the Lily; to Jupiter Ammon the Beech is dedicated. The House-leek (Sempervivum tectorum) has obtained its name of Jupiter’s Beard (Jovis Barba) from its massive inflorescence resembling the sculptured beard of Jupiter. The same plant is also called Jupiter’s Eye from its stellate form: in its centre is a bud, and on the surrounding petals can be distinguished a little eye, from which circumstance has arisen the superstition, mentioned by Dioscorides, that this plant cures inflammation of the eyes. Jupiter’s Staff is the Mullein (Verbascum Thapsus). Jupiter’s Distaff is the Yellow Clary (Salvia glutinosa). Gerarde thus describes it: “Jovis Colus representeth in the highest top of the stalk a distaffe, wrapped about with yellow Flax, whereof it took its name.”——The Couch of Jupiter and Juno was formed of the blossoms of Lotus, Lily, Hyacinth, Crocus, and Asphodel.

KAIL.—Writing of the Cabbage or Colewort, Gerarde tells us “the apothecaries and the common herbalists do call it Caulis, of the goodnesse of the stalke.” The old English name Cole and the Scotch Kail are both derived from this Latin word Caulis, a stalk.——In Scotland, it is a custom on Hallowe’en for the young people, after being duly blindfolded, to go forth into the Kail-yard, or garden, and pull the first stalk they meet with. Returning to the fireside, they determine, according as the stalk is big or little, straight or crooked, what the future wife or husband will be. The quantity of earth adhering to the root is emblematic of the dowry to be expected, and the temper is indicated by the sweet or bitter taste of the motoc or pith. Lastly, the stalks are placed in order over the door, and the Christian names of persons afterwards entering the house signify in the same order those of the wives and husbands in futuris.

KATAKA.—The Kataka (Strychnos potatorum) is an East Indian plant, the seeds of which are sold in the bazaars for the purpose of cleansing muddy water, &c. The vessel containing the water, milk, &c., is first rubbed round the inside for a minute or two with one of the seeds, after which, by allowing the liquid to settle for a short time, however impure it may have been before, it becomes clear. The confidence of the superstitious Hindus in this property of the Kataka became so great, that in course of time they ignorantly thought the mere name of Kataka would be sufficient to cleanse water. It became, therefore, necessary to state in one of their Codes that although the seeds of the Kataka purify water, its name alone was insufficient for that purpose.

KATHARINE’S FLOWER.—The Nigella Damascena has been called Katharine’s or St. Katherine’s-flower, from the persistent styles spreading like the spokes of a wheel, the symbol of St. Katharine, who was martyred upon a wheel. As regards the seed of this plant, Gerarde tells us that if dried, powdered, and wrapped in a piece of fine lawn or sarcenet, it “cureth all murs, catarrhes, rheumes, and the pose, drieth the braine, and restoreth the sence of smelling unto those which have lost it, being often smelled unto from day to day, and made warme at the fire when it is used.”——This plant bears also the names of Fennel-flower, Bishop’s-wort, Old Man’s Beard, and Kiss-me-twice-before-I-rise.

KESARA.—The Kesara (Mimusops Elengi) is an Indian tree sacred to Krishna. According to Jones, the flowers of the Kesara ornament conspicuously the Garden of Paradise. An odoriferous water is distilled from the flowers, and the bark is used medicinally.

KERNEL-WORT.—The Scrophularia nodosa has obtained the name of Kernel-wort, from its having kernels or tubers attached to its roots, and, therefore, as Gerarde remarks, “it is reported to be a remedy against those diseases whereof it tooke his name.” It appears to have been more particularly employed as a cure for the King’s-evil; but the old herbalist tells us that “divers do rashly teach that if it be hanged about the necke, or else carried about one, it keepeth a man in health.”

KERZEREH.—The Kerzrah, or Kerzereh, is the name of an Eastern flower, the odour of which would seem to have deadly properties. It is well known in Persia, and there, it is commonly said, that if a man inhale the hot south-wind, which in June or July passes over the Kerzereh-flowers, it will undoubtedly kill him.

KETAKI.—The Indian name of the Screw Pine, Pandanus odoratissimus, is Ketaki, the male and female flowers of which are borne on separate trees. The male flowers are dried, and are then much in vogue as a scent by Indian ladies. These flowers are said by the native poets to be dear to the god Siva; and so exquisite is their perfume, that the bee, intoxicated by it, mistakes the golden blossom for a beauteous nymph, and, blinded with passion, loses its wings.

KING’S CUP.—The Buttercup (Ranunculus bulbosus) is also called King’s Cup, from the resemblance of its buds to a gold stud such as Kings wore. This flower was dedicated in mediæval times to the Virgin Mary, and is the Mary-bud alluded to by Shakspeare in ‘Cymbeline’—

“And twinkling Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes.”

Kiss-me-ere-i-rise.—See Pansy.

Kiss-me-twice-before-i-rise.—See Katharine’s Flower.

Knight’s Spurs.—See Larkspur.

KNOT GRASS.—The Centinode, or Knot Grass (Polygonum aviculare) derives its name from the knottiness of its stem and its Grass-like leaves. In ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ Shakspeare refers to this plant as “the hindering Knotgrass,” because its decoction was, in olden times, believed to be efficacious in stopping or retarding the growth of children, as well as of the young of domestic animals. Thus, in Beaumont and Fletcher’s ‘Coxcomb,’ we read:—

“We want a boy,
Kept under for a year with milk and Knotgrass.”

Gerarde says that “it is given unto swine with good success when they are sick, and will not eat their meat, whereupon country people do call it Swine’s-grass or Swine’s-skir.”

KOVIDARA.—The Kovidara (Bauhinia variegata) is one of trees which are represented as growing in the Indian Paradise. The flowers of this Mountain Ebony are of a purplish-red colour, marked with white, and with yellow bottoms.

KOUNALNITZA.—In Russia, a plant dedicated to the Slave-God Kounala, protector of the harvest, is named after him Kounalnitza. It would seem, however, to be now considered a herb of St. John. De Gubernatis tells us that on the eve of St. John’s Day it is customary in Russia to deck the floors of bath-rooms with this plant. Kounalnitza is thus described by a Russian lady:—“It is a herb as delicate as an arrow, having on each side nine leaves and four colours—black, green, red, and blue. This herb is very salutary. He who has gathered it on St. John’s Day, and carries it about him with a piece of gold or silver money attached, need neither fear the Devil nor wicked men at night. In course of time he will prevail against all adversaries, and will become the friend of Tzars and princes. The root of this plant is equally miraculous: if a woman be childless, she has only to drink a potion in which this plant has been powdered, and she will have children and be able to protect them from all infantile diseases. Kounalnitza is also gathered as a protection against sorcerers, who by their cries scare reapers and workers in the fields.”

KUDDUM.—The Kuddum, or Cadamba (Anthocephalus Cadamba), is one of the most sacred trees of India. According to the Chinese Buddhist scriptures, there grows to the east of the mountain Sume a great ring of trees called Kadamba, of vast proportions. The tree of Buddha sprang spontaneously from a kernel of this Kadamba, dropped in the soil. “In one moment the earth split, a shoot appeared, and the giant tree raised itself, embracing within its shadow a circumference of three hundred cubits. The fruits of this miraculous tree are a source of bitter vexation to the enemies of Buddha, and against these the Devas launch all the fury of the tempest.” The yellowish-brown flowers of the Kuddum are small and collected in dense balls: they open at the commencement of the rainy season, and they are represented by the Indian poets as having the power of recalling to lovers, with irresistible vividness, the beloved absent one.

KUSA GRASS.—The sacred Vedic herb Kusa (Poa cynosuroides) is known in the Sanscrit writings as the Ornament of the Sacrifice, the Pure Herb, the Purifier, &c. With its long pointed leaves, the sacred beverages are purified, the altar is covered, and the sacrificing priest is furnished with a natural carpet. According to the Vedas, the sacrifices offered in the Hindu temples of the Indian Trinity, Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, consisted of a fire of fragrant woods lighted at each of the cardinal points. The flames were fed now and again with consecrated ointment, and around the fire was scattered the sacred herb Kusa. Thus, in the drama of ‘Sakuntalâ,’ written by Kâlidâsa two thousand years ago, we find that Kanva, the father of the heroine (who is the chief of the hermits), offers one of these sacrifices, and exclaims:—

“Holy flames, whose frequent food
Is the consecrated wood,
And for whose encircling bed,
Sacred Kusa-grass is spread;
Hear, oh, hear me when I pray,
Purify my child this day!”

In those times it was apparently considered no sin to apply the sacred grass to private purposes, for one of Sakuntalâ’s handmaids compounds perfumes and unguents with consecrated paste and the Kusa-grass, to anoint the limbs of her mistress, previous to her nuptials. In the Vedas, the Kusa-grass, or Darbha, is often invoked as a god. According to the Atharvaveda, it is immortal, it never ages, it destroys enemies, and Indra, the god of thunder, employs it as his weapon.——The Vedic rituals contain directions for the employment of Kusa-grass for various mystic purposes. To cleanse butter, the priest held a small stalk of the sacred Grass, without nodes, in each hand, and, turning towards the east, he invoked Savitar, Vasu, and the rays of the sun. At the new moon, and at the full moon, they bound and fastened together the sacrificial wood and the Kusa-grass. In the third year of its age, it was customary for a Hindu child to be brought by its parents to the priest, that its hair might be cut. Then the father, placed to the south of the mother, held in his hand twenty-one stalks of Kusa-grass, which symbolised the twenty-one winds, and an invocation was made to Vâyu, the god of the winds. The father, or, in his absence, a Brahman, took three stalks at a time, and inserted them in the child’s hair seven times, the points turned towards the infant’s body; at the same time devoutly murmuring, “May the herb protect thee!” According to the Vedas, a house ought to be erected in a locality where the Kusa-grass abounds; the foundations are sprinkled with it, and care is taken to extirpate all thorny plants. When reading the sacred books, the devout Hindu should be seated either on the ground or on a flooring strewn with Kusa-grass, upon which once rested Brahma himself. It was customary, upon leaving a seminary, for the Vedic student to take, among other things, by way of memento, and as a presage of good fortune, a few blades of Kusa-grass. Anchorites employed the sacred Grass as a covering to their nudity, and it was also used as a purification in funeral rites. In the Buddhist ritual, the Vedic Kusa appears under the name of Barhis, and serves as a kind of carpet, on which come Agni and all the gods to seat themselves. Of such importance is the sacred Grass considered, that the name Barhis is sometimes even employed to signify in a general manner the sacrifice itself.

KUSHTHA.—Wilson identifies the Indian mythological tree Kushtha with the Costus speciosus, a swamp plant bearing snow-white flowers and celebrated for the sweetness of its fruits. The Kushtha forms one of the trees of heaven. In the Atharvaveda, it is stated to flourish in the third heaven, where the ambrosia is to be found: it possesses magical properties, will cure fevers, and is considered as the first of medicinal plants. It is represented also as a great friend and companion of Soma, the god of the ambrosia, and it descends from the mountain Himavant as a deity of salvation.

Lad’s Love.—See Southernwood.

LADY’S PLANTS.—When the word “lady” occurs in plant names, it alludes in most cases to Our Lady, the Virgin Mary, on whom the monks and nuns of old lavished flowers in profusion. All white flowers were regarded as typifying her purity and sanctity, and were consecrated to her festivals. The finer flowers were wrested from the Northern deities, Freyja and Bertha, and from the classic Juno, Diana, and Venus, and laid upon the shrine of Our Lady. In Puritan times, the name of Our Lady was in many instances replaced by Venus, thus recurring to the ancient nomenclature: for example: Our Lady’s Comb became Venus’s Comb (Scandix Pecten Veneris); Galium verum is called Our Lady’s Bedstraw, from its soft, puffy, flocculent stems, and its golden flowers. The name may allude more particularly to the Virgin Mary having given birth to her Son in a stable, with nothing but wild flowers for her bedding. Clematis vitalba, commonly called Traveller’s Joy, from the shade and shelter it affords to weary wayfarers, is also called Lady’s Bower, from “its aptness in making arbours, bowers, and shadie covertures in gardens.” Statice Armeria, the clustered Pink, which is called Thrift, from the past participle of the verb to thrive, is, on account of its close cushion-like growth, termed Lady’s Cushion. Alchemilla vulgaris is named Lady’s Mantle from the shape and vandyked edge of the leaf; and Campanula hybrida (from the resemblance of its expanded flower, set on its elongated ovary, to an ancient metallic mirror on its straight handle) is the Lady’s Looking-glass. Two plants with soft inflated calyces (Anthyllis vulneraria and Digitalis purpurea) are Lady’s Fingers. Neottia spiralis, with its flower-spikes rising above each other like braided hair, is Lady’s Tresses; and the Maidenhair Fern is Our Lady’s Hair. Dodder (Cuscuta), from its string-like stems, is called Lady’s Laces; and Digraphis arundinacea, from the ribbon-like striped leaves, Lady’s Garters. In Wiltshire, Convolvulus sepium is called Lady’s Nightcap. Cypripedium Calceolus, from the shape of its flower, is called Lady’s Slippers; and Cardamine pratensis, from the shape of its flowers, like little smocks hung out to dry, is the Lady’s Smock, all silver white, of Shakspeare. Lady’s Thimble is a name of the Blue or Hare Bell (Campanula rotundifolia); and Lady’s Seal is now the Black Briony. Carduus Marianus is the Lady’s Thistle, the blessed Milk Thistle, whose green leaves have been spotted white ever since the milk of the Virgin fell upon it when she was nursing Jesus, and endowed it with miraculous virtues.

LARCH.—There has long been a superstitious belief that the wood of the Larch-tree (Pinus Larix) is impenetrable by fire, and a story is told by Vitruvius of a castle besieged by Cæsar, which, from being built largely of Larch timber, was found most difficult to consume.——Evelyn calls the Larch a “goodly tree, which is of so strange a composition, that ’twill hardly burn; whence the Mantuan, Et robusta Larix igni impenetrabile lignum, for so Cæsar found it.”——Tiberius constructed several bridges of this timber, and the Forum of Augustus, at Rome, was built with it.——Evelyn tells of a certain ship found many years ago in the Numidian Sea, twelve fathoms under water, which was chiefly built of Larch and Cypress, so hardened as long to resist the fire or the sharpest tool. Nor, he adds, “was anything perished of it, though it had lain above a thousand and four hundred years submerged.”——A Manna is obtained from the Larch, called in the South of France Manna de Briançon; it is very rare, and met with only in little drops that adhere to the leaves.——In the case of a forest fire, if Larches are scorched to the pith, the inner part exudes a gum, called Orenburg gum, which the mountaineers masticate in order to fasten their teeth. Ben Jonson, in the ‘Masque of Queens,’ speaks of the gum or turpentine of the Larch as being used in witchcraft. A witch answers her companion:—

“Yes, I have brought (to help your vows)
Horned Poppy, Cypress-boughs,
The Fig-tree wild, that grows on tombs,
And juice that from the Larch-tree comes,
The basilisk’s blood and the viper’s skin:
And now our orgies let’s begin.”

According to a Tyrolean tradition, the Seliges Fräulein, dressed in white, repairs to an aged Larch beneath whose shelter she sings.——Lucan includes the “gummy Larch” among the articles burned to drive away serpents.——M. de Rialle, quoted in Mythothologie des Plantes, relates that a group of seven Larches constituted for the Ostiaks a sacred grove. Everyone passing was expected to leave an arrow, and formerly it was customary to suspend skins there, so that in course of time an immense quantity was accumulated. As these offerings were frequently stolen by strangers, the Ostiaks decided to fell one of the Larches and remove the stump to some secret locality where they might pay their devotions without fear of sacrilege. M. de Rialle found the same Larch worship at Bérézof: there a tree fifty feet high, and so old that only its top bore foliage, received the homage of the Ostiaks, who showed their piety by turning to good account its singular conformation: about six feet from the ground the trunk of the tree became divided into two limbs, which joining again a little higher up, left a cleft in the centre: this aperture the devotees dedicated to the reception of their offerings.

LARKSPUR.—The Larkspur, the Delphinium or Dolphin-flower of the ancients, was considered by Linnæus and many other botanists to be none other than the Hyacinth of the classic poets. It is not, however, generally recognised as the flower that sprang from the blood of the unfortunate Hyacinthus, and which to this day bears his name; but is rather regarded as the flower alluded to in the enigma propounded by a shepherd in one of the Eclogues of Virgil.

“Dic quibus in terris inscripti nomina regum
Nascuntur flores.”
“Say in what country do flowers grow with the names of kings written upon them.”

Tradition states that from the life-blood of the disappointed and infuriated Ajax sprang the Delphinium—the flower which we now know as the Larkspur, upon whose petals it is said may be read the letters A I A, and which the botanists consequently term Delphininium Ajacis—truly a flower upon which the name of a king is written.——The legend concerning the origin of the flower is as follows:—Ajax, the son of Telamon and Hesione, was next to Achilles worthily reputed the most valiant of all the Greeks at the Trojan war, and engaged in single combat with Hector, the intrepid captain of the Trojan hosts, who was subsequently slain by Achilles. After the death of Achilles, Ajax and Ulysses both claimed the arms of the deceased hero: the latter was awarded them by the Greeks, who preferred the wisdom and policy of Ulysses to the courage of Ajax. This threw Ajax into such a fury, that he slaughtered a flock of sheep, mistaking them for the sons of Atreus; and then, upon perceiving his error, stabbed himself with the sword presented to him by Hector; the blood spurting from his self-inflicted death-wound, giving birth, as it fell to the earth, to the purple Delphinium, which bears upon its petals the letters at once the initials of his name and an exclamation of grief at the loss of such a hero.——The generic name of the plant is derived from the Greek delphinion, a dolphin; the flower-buds, before expansion, being thought to resemble that fish. In England, the flower is known by the names of Larkspur, Lark’s-heel, Lark’s-toe, Lark’s-claw, and Knight’s-spur.

LAUREL.—Daphne, daughter of Peneus and the goddess Terra, inspired Apollo with a consuming passion. Daphne, however, received with distrust and horror the addresses of the god, and fled from his advances. Pursued by Apollo, she adjured the water-gods to change her form, and, according to Ovid—

“Scarce had she finished when her feet she found
Benumb’d with cold and fastened to the ground:
A filmy rind about her body grows;
Her hair to leaves, her arms extend to boughs.
The nymph is all into a Laurel gone
The smoothness of her skin remains alone.
* * * * * * * *
To whom the god: because thou canst not be
My mistress, I espouse thee for my tree:
Be thou the prize of honour and renown;
The deathless poet and the poem crown.
Thou shalt the Roman festivals adorn,
And after poets, be by victors won.
Thou shalt returning Cæsar’s triumph grace
When pomps shall in a long procession pass;
Wreath’d on the posts before his palace wait;
And be the sacred guardian of the gate,
Secure from thunder, and unharmed by Jove,
Unfading as th’ immortal powers above;
And as the locks of Phœbus are unshorn,
So shall perpetual green thy boughs adorn.”—Dryden.

The classical Laurel, known as the “Royal,” or “Augustan,” was the Sweet Bay, or Daphne (Laurus nobilis). Formerly the Bay-tree was called Laurel, and the fruit only named Bayes, a word derived from the French baie, a berry. By the Greeks and Romans the tree was considered sacred. The Romans decorated with Laurel the gods Apollo and Bacchus, the goddesses Libertas and Salus, Æsculapius, Hercules, &c. The victors of the Pythian games, held to commemorate Apollo’s triumph over the Pythons, wore crowns of Laurel, Palm, or Beech. Paris (called in Homer, Alexander) was crowned with Alexandrian Laurel (Ruscus racemosus), as victor in the public games, whence its names in Apuleius, Daphne Alexandrina and Stephane Alexandrina. Of all the honours decreed to Cæsar by the Senate, he is said to have valued most the privilege of wearing a crown of Alexandrian Laurel, because it covered his baldness, which was reckoned a deformity among the Romans as well as among the Jews. This is the Laurel generally depicted on busts, coins, &c. The palace gates of the Cæsars, and the high pontiffs were decorated with Laurel. Victorious Roman generals sent their letters and dispatches to the Senate enclosed in Laurel-leaves. The letter announcing the victory was called literæ laureatæ, and its bearer carried a branch of Laurel, which was placed in the breast of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. The soldiers’ spears, tents, ships, &c., were all dressed up with Laurel, and in the triumph each soldier carried a branch in his hand. According to Plutarch, Scipio entered Carthage, holding in one hand a sceptre and in the other a branch of Laurel. Sophocles relates how Œdipus, seeing Creon arrive crowned with Laurel, believed that he brought good news. The goddess Victoria is represented as crowned with Laurel, and bearing the branch of a Palm-tree. According to Hesiod, the Muses hold Laurel in their hands.

The prophetess Manto, a daughter of the prophet Tiresias, was sometimes called Daphne (Laurel).

The bough of a Laurel was considered to give to prophets the faculty of seeing that which was hidden. Dionysius calls the Laurel the prophetical plant; and Claudian, venturi præscia Laurus. Fulgentius states, that a Laurel-leaf placed beneath the pillow will cause coming events to be foreseen in a dream; thereby greatly assisting the prediction of future events. Diviners, like the priests of Apollo, wore Laurel wreaths, and Laurel was used in the composition of incense. Evelyn relates that the Laurel and Agnus Castus were reputed to be “trees which greatly composed the ‘phansy,’ and did facilitate true visions; and that the first was especially efficacious to inspire a poetical fury. Such a tradition there goes of Rebekah, the wife of Isaac, in imitation of her father-in-law. The instance is recited out of an ancient ecclesiastical history, by Abulensis.” From hence, Evelyn thinks the Delphic Tripos, the Dodonean Oracle in Epirus, and others of a similar nature, took their origin. The Pythia, or priestess of Apollo, at Delphi, before delivering the oracles from the sacred tripod, shook a Laurel-tree and sometimes chewed the leaves with which she crowned herself, casting them afterwards into the sacred fire. The temple of Apollo at Delphi, where the celebrated oracles were delivered, was at first only a structure of Laurel-branches, which enclosed a fissure in the earth, from which a stupefying exhalation arose. Over the fissure was placed a tripod, on which the Pythia or prophetess sat, and, becoming excited by the ascending vapour, she fell into an ecstacy, and prophesied. After a temple of stone had been constructed, the Pythia prophesied in an inner and secluded cell, the only opening to which, accessible to questioners, was covered with Laurel-leaves. The Laurel being sacred to Apollo as well as to Æsculapius, was used in the temples of both these divinities, partly to induce sleep and dreams, partly to produce beneficial effects in various diseases. Whosoever wished to ask counsel was bound to appear before the altar crowned with Laurel-twigs and chewing Laurel-leaves. Every ninth year, a bower, composed of Laurel-branches, was erected in the forecourt of the temple at Delphi.

The Bœotian fêtes, held every ninth year at Thebes in honour of Apollo, were designated Daphnephoria. On these occasions, an Olive-bough, adorned with Laurel, was carried by a beautiful and illustrious youth, dedicated to the service of Apollo, and who was called Daphnephoros (Laurel-bearer). The origin of the Daphnephoria was as follows:—The Ætolians had invaded Bœotia, but both invaders and defenders suspended hostilities to celebrate the festival of Apollo, and having cut down Laurel-boughs from Mount Helicon, they walked in procession in honour of the divinity: that same day the Bœotian general, Polemates, dreamed that a youth presented him with a suit of armour, and commanded the Bœotians to offer prayers to Apollo, and to walk in procession, with Laurel-boughs in their hands, every ninth year. Three days later, Polemates defeated the invaders, and immediately instituted the Festival of Daphnephoria.

The Laurel formerly had the power ascribed to it of being a safeguard against lightning, of which Tiberius was very fearful, and in order to avoid which he is stated to have crept under his bed and protected his head with Laurel-leaves. In Sicily, it has long been popularly believed that the shrub is a protection from thunder and lightning. The same superstition survived till recently in our own country. W. Browne tells us that “Baies being the material of poets’ ghirlands, are supposed not subject to any hurt of Jupiter’s thunder-bolts, as other trees are.” Culpeper alludes to the old belief that neither witch nor devil, thunder nor lightning, will hurt a man where a Bay-tree is; and remarks further, that Laurels resist “witchcraft very potently, as also all the evils old Saturn can do the body of man, and they are not a few. The berries are very effectual against all poisons of venomous creatures, as also against the pestilence and other infectious diseases.”

The decay of the Bay-tree, which is generally rapid, was formerly considered as an omen of disaster. It is said that before the death of Nero, though in a very mild winter, all these trees withered to the root, and a great pestilence in Padua is reputed to have been preceded by the same phenomenon. So great a reputation had the Laurel for clearing the air and resisting contagion, that the Emperor Claudius was advised by his physicians during a raging pestilence to remove his court to Laurentum. That city, in the reign of Latinus, was the capital of Latium, whose inhabitants were called Laurentini from the great number of Laurels which flourished in their country. King Latinus discovered one of unusual size and beauty when about to build a temple to Apollo, and the tree was consecrated to the god, and preserved with religious care.

The Laurel had the reputation of being generally propitious to man. At Rome, on the 15th of May, merchants used to celebrate a festival in honour of Mercury, and proceeding to a public fountain, they drew water wherein they dipped a Laurel-branch, which they then employed to bless all their merchandise. The Laurus (Bay) was held in high esteem by the old Greek physicians; and among the people there existed a belief that spirits could be banished by its means. The Greeks had a saying, “I carry a branch of Laurel,” to indicate that the speaker had no fear of poison or sorcery. They had a custom of affixing a Laurel-bough over the doorway, in the case of a severe illness, in order to avert death and drive away evil spirits. Presumably from these associations, it became the fashion to crown young doctors of physic with Laurel-berries (Bacca Lauri), and the students were called Baccalaureats, Bay-laureats, or Bachelors. Theophrastus tells us that in his time the superstitious kept Bay-leaves in their mouths all day, to guard them from misfortune. Theocritus says that young girls were wont to burn Laurel as a charm to recall errant lovers. The Bolognese use Laurel to obtain an augury of the harvest: they put Laurel-leaves in the fire, and if in burning they crackle, it is a sign that the harvest will be good; if not, it will be bad. Tibullus chronicles a similar superstition in his time.

In the days of Pliny, there still existed on Mount Aventine a plantation of Laurels, of which the branches were employed for expiations. On the other hand, there grew on the shores of the Euxine a Laurel bearing a sinister reputation, close to where Amycus, the son of Neptune, was killed and buried. The Argonauts, when passing there, broke off a branch of this Laurel, and they immediately began to quarrel among themselves: the quarrel ceased, however, directly the branch was thrown away.

Petrarch made the Laurel the constant theme of his verse, associating it with the name of his beloved mistress, Laura; and when publicly crowned in the Roman Capitol with a wreath of Laurel, the poet acknowledged himself to have experienced the greatest delight.

Sir Thomas Browne refers to a custom common in Christian countries of throwing a sprig of Bay upon the coffin when interred. In England, it has long been used, together with Holly, Rosemary, &c., to decorate houses and churches at Christmas. In Greece, on Holy Saturday, they spread Laurel-leaves on the church floor. In Corsica, they deck with Laurel-leaves the doorway of the house where a wedding is being celebrated.

To dream of a Laurel-bush is a token of victory and pleasure. If the dreamer is married it denotes an inheritance through the wife. If a married woman dreams of seeing or smelling Laurel, it is a sign that she shall bear children; if a maid, it denotes that she will be suddenly married. Astrologers consider the Laurel a tree of the Sun, under the celestial sign Leo.

The Roumanians have a legend that there was once a nymph, known as the Daughter of the Laurel, who dwelt in the midst of a Laurel-bush. One evening the Laurel had opened its branches that she might, as was her wont, issue forth and dance in the flowery valley. Whilst tripping along she was accosted by a handsome youth, who extolled her beauty, expressed his passion for her, and finally endeavoured to embrace her; but the Laurel nymph fled, and pursued by the stranger, disappeared in the flowery groves.... “The Star Queen sleeps in her palace of clouds; sleep also, gentle and lovely girl; try to calm thy sighs.” So sings the handsome stranger, and the Daughter of the Laurel falls to sleep in his arms, murmuring a prayer that her lover may never abandon her. At her waking, alas! the youth is nowhere to be seen. She shrieks for him wildly, and calls to the night; to the stars; to the rivulet running through the wood; but in vain. “Open thy branches, beautiful Laurel-tree!” then cries the deserted girl; “the night is already flying, and if I remain longer here I shall dissolve away into dew.” “Away, young and beautiful girl,” replies the Laurel-tree mournfully; “the star wreath of honour has fallen from thy brow; there is no longer any place for thee here.” Then the sun rose over the mountain, and the Daughter of the Laurel dissolved away into dew.

LAVENDER.—The ancients employed Lavender (Lavandula Spica) largely in their baths, whence its name, derived from the Latin verb, lavare, to wash. The expression “Laid up in Lavender” has arisen from the old custom of using the plant to scent newly-washed linen.

“Its spike of azure bloom
Shall be erewhile in arid bundles bound,
To lurk amid the labours of the loom,
And crown our kerchiefs clean with mickle rare perfume.”

The ancients used the French Lavender (L. Stœchas), which formerly grew in great abundance on the islands near Hyères, in France, that were named after the plant, the Stœchades. Gerarde calls this French Lavender, Sticadove, and says the herb was also known as Cassidonie, corrupted by simple country folk into “Cast-me-down.” Shakspeare makes Perdita class Lavender among the flowers denoting middle-age:—

“Here’s flowers for you;
Hot Lavender, Mints, Savory, Marjoram.
The Marygold, that goes to bed with the sun,
And with him rises weeping; these are the flowers
Of middle Summer, and, I think, they are given
To men of middle age.”

English Lavender was formerly called Lavender Spike, and Gerarde says it was thought by some to be the sweet herb Cassia, mentioned by Virgil in his ‘Bucolics’:—

“And then she’ll Spike and such sweet herbs unfold,
And paint the Jacinth with the Marigold.”

It was formerly believed that the asp, a dangerous species of viper, made Lavender its habitual place of abode, for which reason the plant was approached with extreme caution.——In Spain and Portugal, Lavender is used to strew the floors of churches and houses on festive occasions, or to make bonfires on St. John’s Day.——In Tuscany, it is employed to counteract the effect of the Evil Eye on little children.——The Kabyle women attribute to Lavender the property of protecting them from marital cruelty, and invoke it for that purpose.

LEEK.—Biblical commentators say that the Leek (Allium Porrum), as well as the Onion and Garlic, was included among those Egyptian luxuries after which the Children of Israel pined. White and green were the old Cymric colours, and these colours are found combined in the Leek, which is the national emblem of the Welsh. The following lines are from a MS. in the Harl. Col., British Museum:—

“I like the Leeke above all herbes and floures;
When first we wore the same the field was ours.
The Leeke is white and green, whereby is ment
That Britaines are both stout and eminente.
Next to the lion and the unicorne,
The Leeke’s the fairest emblym that is worne.”

Shakspeare, in Henry V., tells us that the Leek, worn by Welshmen on St. David’s Day (March 1st), is “an ancient tradition, begun upon an honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of pre-deceased valour.” This vegetable “trophy” is said to be in memory of a great victory obtained by the Welsh over the Saxons; on which occasion, they, by order of St. David, placed Leeks in their caps in order to distinguish themselves. It has also been supposed that the wearing of the Leek may have originated in the custom of Cymortha, still observed among the farmers of the country, where, in assisting one another in ploughing their land, they bring each their Leeks to the common repast of the whole party.——Drayton relates another legend, which runs as follows:—

“There is an aged cell, with Moss and Ivy grown,
In which not to this day the sun has ever shone.
That reverend British saint, in zealous ages past,
To contemplation lived, and did so truly fast,
As he did only drink what crystal Hodney yields,
And fed upon the Leeks he gathered in the fields;
In memory of whom, in each revolving year,
The Welshmen on his day that sacred herb do wear.”

Pliny states that Nero brought Leeks into great repute among the Romans by eating them with oil to clear his voice for singing. His folly in this respect obtained for him the satirical name of Porrophagus, the Leek Eater. Martial, referring to the disagreeable effects of the Leek upon the breath of the eater, says:—

“The juice of Leeks who fondly sips,
To kiss the fair, must close his lips.”

——In Poland, the flower-stalk of the Leek is placed in the hands of the statues of our Saviour on certain special days, to represent the Reed given to Him at the Crucifixion.——Among the Sicilians, the mother of the Apostle Peter is the subject of many legends. She is always represented as bad and niggardly. The only thing she ever gave away was the leaf of a Leek, which she flung to a beggar, who importuned her one day as she was washing her potherbs. When she died, hell received her. Years afterwards, Peter, the doorkeeper of Paradise, heard a piteous voice saying: “Son Peter, see what torments I am in. Go, ask the Lord to let me out.” So Peter went and asked. But the Lord said: “She never did a nail-paring of good. Except this Leek-leaf, she never once gave a scrap away. However, here is a Leek-leaf: this angel shall take it, and shall tell her to lay hold of the other end, while he pulls her up.” So Peter’s mother grasped the Leek-leaf; but all the souls in torment ran after her, and clung to her skirts, so that the angel was dragging quite a string of them after her. Her evil disposition, however, would not permit her to keep quiet. It grieved her avaricious temperament that anyone besides herself should be saved; so she struggled and kicked, in order to shake the poor souls off, and in so doing tore the saving Leek-leaf, and fell back again, and sank deeper than before.

LENT LILIES.—The Daffodil is the Lent Lily. Mingled with Yew, which is the emblem of the Resurrection, it forms an appropriate decoration for Easter. Lent Lilies are called by the French Pauvres Filles de Ste. Clare. (See Narcissus).

LENTIL.—Like almost all vegetables, Lentils are traditionally regarded as funereal plants: formerly they were forbidden at all sacrifices and feasts.——St. Hilarion, when he arrived at man’s estate, subsisted for three years upon Lentils steeped in cold water.——To dream of Lentils is supposed to indicate sorrow and anxiety.

LETTUCE.—Pythagoras, we are told, was extremely fond of Lettuces, which formed a large portion of his diet; but Eubulus is said to have bitterly reproached his wife for having served up at a meal Lettuces, which were only recommended for funeral repasts.——The ancients considered the Lettuce (Lactuca) as an aliment appropriate in times of mourning, and they employed it largely in their funeral repasts in commemoration of the death of Adonis, son of Myrrha, whom Venus had concealed in a bed of Lettuces, and whose death had occurred from a wound inflicted by a wild boar that had come to feed on the Lettuces, and so surprised the beautiful youth.——Another legend states that the young man hidden by Venus in the Lettuce bed was Phaon, the handsome boatman of Lesbos, and not Adonis.——In mediæval days, it was superstitiously thought that an evil spirit lurked in a bed of Lettuces, and a species known by women as Astylida was believed to affect mothers adversely, and to cause grievous ills to newly-born infants. Perhaps this may account for a saying often heard at Richmond, Surrey:—“O’er-much Lettuce in the garden will stop a young wife’s bearing.”——The old poets prescribed a bed of Lettuce for those who were unable to obtain repose; and Pliny states that Lettuces of all descriptions were thought to cause sleep. Pope, referring to its soporific qualities, has said of the Lettuce:—

“If your wish be rest,
“Lettuce and Cowslip wine, probatum est.”

Gerarde remarks that, if eaten after supper, this vegetable prevents the drunkenness resulting from too free indulgence in wine.——Lettuce is stated by the Mishna to be one of the five “bitter herbs” ordered to eaten by Jews at the Feast of the Passover.——To dream of eating salads made of Lettuce, &c., is supposed to portend trouble and difficulty in the management of affairs.

LILY.—The white Lily (Lilium candidum) was held in the highest regard by the heathen nations; it was one of the flowers employed to form the couch of Jupiter and Juno, and under the name of Rosa Junonis was consecrated to the imperious queen of the heavens, from whose milk, indeed, the flower is stated to have originally sprung. The legend is as follows:—Jupiter being desirous of rendering the infant Hercules immortal, that he might rank among the divinities, caused Somnus to prepare a nectareous sleeping-draught, which he persuaded Juno to take. The Queen of the Gods fell immediately into a profound slumber, and Jupiter then placed the little Hercules to the celestial breast, in order that the babe might imbibe the ambrosial milk that would ensure its immortality. The infant, over-eager to enjoy the delightful nutriment, drew the milk faster than he could swallow, and some drops falling to the earth, there immediately sprang from it the white Lily, the emblem of purity: some of the milk is also said to have dropped over that portion of the heavens which, from its whiteness, still retains the name of the Milky Way (lactea via). Another version of the myth states that originally all the Lilies were Orange-coloured, but that those on which Juno’s milk fell were rendered white, and produced the Lilium candidum.——The Lily was doubtless cultivated by the ancient Egyptians, and probably held in great esteem, for we find it appearing in their hieroglyphical representations, and may therefore conclude that the flower possessed some special significance. With the Greeks and Romans, the Lily was a favourite flower, and Columella tells us that the latter were wont to preserve Lilies by planting them in baskets. The frequent allusions made to the plant in the Scriptures are sufficient proof that the Hebrew race thought highly of the beauty and grace of the Lily. In their language, the name Susannah signifies a Lily. There are great diversities of opinion as to what was the particular Lily alluded to by our Saviour when He said, “Consider the Lilies of the field.” Some think the Tulip, others the Amaryllis lutea, others again the white Lily to be the flowers to which Solomon in all his glory was not to be compared.——In nearly every Catholic country, the White Lily is dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and is held to be emblematic of her purity: hence the flower is frequently used to decorate her shrine, and especially so on the feast of the Visitation of Our Lady and the Annunciation. The Continental order of the Blessed Lady of the Lily was instituted by Garcia, fourth King of Navarre, on account of an image of the Holy Virgin being miraculously found, as it was reported, in a Lily, which is believed to have cured this prince of a dangerous disorder.——Rapin, the French Jesuit poet, has the following lines on the Lily, which he evidently confounds with the Iris, or Fleur de Luce (see Iris), as being the representative flower of the French nation. He says:—

“With Lilies our French monarchs grace their crown,
Brought hither by the valiant Hector’s son,
From Trojan coasts, when Francus forc’d by fate
Old Priam’s kingdom did to France translate:
Or, if we may believe what legends tell,
Like Rome’s Ancilia, once from heav’n they fell.
Clovis, first Christian of our regal line,
Of heav’n approved, received the gift divine
With his unblemished hands, and by decree
Ordained this shield giv’n by the gods should be
Preserved, the nation’s guard to late posterity.”

The Roman Catholics assigned to the Madonna, as Queen of Heaven, the White Lily (Lilium candidum), the symbol of purity, and it is the flower appropriated to the Annunciation and to the Visitation of Our Lady. According to the Romish legend, St. Thomas, who was absent at the death of the Virgin, would not believe in her resurrection, and desired that her tomb should be opened before him; and when this was done, it was found to be full of Lilies and Roses. Then the astonished Thomas, looking up to heaven, beheld the Virgin ascending, and she, for the assurance of his faith, flung down to him her girdle.——In a picture by Gozzoli, in the National Gallery, representing St. Jerome and St. Francis kneeling at the foot of the Virgin, a red Rose-bud has sprung up at the knees of St. Jerome, and a tall White Lily at those of St. Francis—these flowers typifying the love and purity of the Virgin Mother. In the works of Italian masters, a vase of Lilies stands by the Virgin’s side, with three flowers crowning three stems. St. Joseph, husband of the Virgin Mary, is depicted with the Lily in his hand; his staff, according to the legend, having put forth Lilies. Later painters of this school depict the angel Gabriel with a branch of White Lilies.——As the emblem of purity and chastity, the Lily is associated with numbers of saints, male and female; but, being consecrated to the Virgin, it is always placed, in the paintings of the early Italian masters, near those saints who were distinguished by their devotion to the Mother of Jesus, as in the pictures of St. Bernard.——As protector of youth, St. Louis de Gonzague bears a Lily in his hand, and the flower is also dedicated to St. Anthony, as a guardian of marriages. The flower is likewise the characteristic of St. Clara, St. Dominick, and St. Katherine of Siena. The crucifix twined with the Lily signifies devotion and purity of heart: it is given particularly to St. Nicholas of Solentine.——Lilies being emblematic of the Virgin, an order of knighthood was instituted by Ferdinand of Aragon, in 1403, called the “Order of the Lily,” the collar of which was composed of Lilies and gryphons.——From the Virgin being the patron Saint of Dundee, that town bears Lilies on its arms.——To dream of Lilies during their blooming season is reputed to foretell marriage, happiness, and prosperity; but a vision of Lilies out of their season, or withered, signifies frustration of hopes, and the death or severe illness of someone beloved.——Astrologers state that Lilies are under the dominion of the Moon.

LILY OF THE VALLEY.—In mediæval days, the monks and nuns believed that the Convallaria was the Lily of the Valley mentioned in the Canticles (ii., 17), and the flower alluded to by Christ when he bade his disciples “consider the Lilies of the field.” The Martagon Lily, however (Lilium Chalcedonicum), is now generally considered to be the Lily of Palestine; the Lily of the Valley, or Conval Lily, being quite unknown in the Holy Land.——Lilies of the Valley are called Virgin’s Tears; they are the flowers dedicated to Whitsuntide, but in some parts of England still retain their old name of May Lilies.——There exists in Devon a superstition that it is unlucky to plant a bed of Lilies of the Valley, as the person doing so will probably die in the course of the ensuing twelve months.——In France, Germany, and Holland, these Lilies are called May-flowers.——The blossoms possess a perfume highly medicinal against nervous affections. The water distilled from them was formerly in such great repute that it was kept only in vessels of gold and silver: hence Matthiolus calls it aqua aurea. It was esteemed as a preventive against all infectious distempers. Camerarius recommends an oil made of the flowers as a specific against gout and such-like diseases. His prescription is as follows:—“Have filled a glass with flowers, and being well stopped, set it for a moneth’s space in an ante’s hill, and after being drayned cleare, set it by for use.”——There is a legend in Sussex, that in the forest of St. Leonard, where the hermit-saint once dwelt, fierce encounters took place between the holy man and a dragon which infested the neighbourhood; the result being that the dragon was gradually driven back into the inmost recesses of the forest, and at last disappeared. The scenes of their successive combats are revealed afresh every year, when beds of fragrant Lilies of the Valley spring up wherever the earth was sprinkled by the blood of the warrior saint.——The Conval Lily is under Mercury.

LIME-TREE.—The origin of the Lime-tree, according to Ovid, is to be traced to the metamorphosis of Baucis, the good-hearted wife of an aged shepherd named Philemon. This old couple lived happily and contentedly in a humble cottage in the plains of Phrygia. Here they one day, with rustic hospitality, entertained unknowingly the gods Jupiter and Mercury, who had been refused admittance to the dwellings of their wealthier neighbours. Appreciating their kindness, Jupiter bade them ascend a neighbouring hill, where they saw their neighbours’ dwellings swept away by a flood, but their own hut transformed into a splendid temple, of which the god appointed them the presiding priests. According to their request, they both died at the same hour, and were changed into trees—Baucis into a Lime, and Philemon into an Oak. Ovid thus describes the transformation:—

“Then, when their hour was come, while they relate
These past adventures at the temple gate,
Old Baucis is by old Philemon seen
Sprouting with sudden leaves of sprightly green:
Old Baucis looked where old Philemon stood,
And saw his lengthened arms a sprouting wood;
New roots their fastened feet begin to bind.
Their bodies stiffen in a rising rind.
Then, ere the bark above their shoulders grew,
They give and take at once their last adieu.
At once, farewell, O faithful spouse! they said,
At once th’ incroaching rinds their closing lips invade.
Ev’n yet an ancient Tyanæan shows
A spreading Oak that near a Linden grows.”

Rapin, in his version of the tale, makes both of the old folks become Limes, male and female:—

“While these you plant, Philemon call to mind,
In love and duty with his Baucis joined—
A good old pair whom poverty had tried,
Nor could their vows and nuptial faith divide;
Their humble cot with sweet content was blest,
And each benighted stranger was their guest.
When Jove unknown they kindly entertained,
This boon the hospitable pair obtained,
Laden with years, and weak through length of time,
That they should each become a verdant Lime
And since the transformation Limes appear
Of either sex; and male and female are.”

In honour of its descent from the worthy old couple, the Lime became the symbol of wedded love.——In Scandinavian mythology, Sigurd, after having killed the serpent Fafnir, bathes himself in its blood: a leaf of a Linden or Lime-tree falls on him between his shoulders, and renders that particular place vulnerable, although every other portion of his body had become invulnerable.——In Germany, during May-day festivities, they often make use of the Linden. Around the Linden dance the villagers of Gotha. In Finland and in Sweden, the Linden is considered as a protective tree.——In the cemetery of the hospital of Annaberg, in Saxony, there is a very ancient Linden-tree, concerning which tradition relates that it was planted by an inhabitant, with its top in the ground; and that its roots became branches, which now overshadow a considerable portion of the country.——At Süderheistede, in Ditmarschen, there once stood a Linden which was known throughout the country, as the “Wonderful Tree.” It was much higher than other trees, and its branches all grew crosswise. Connected with this tree was an old prophecy that, as soon as the Ditmarschens lost their freedom, the tree would wither; and so it came to pass. But the people believe that a magpie will one day build its nest in its branches, and hatch five young ones, and then the tree will begin to sprout out anew, and again be green, and the country recover its ancient freedom.——According to an old legend current in Berlin, the youngest of three brothers fell in love with the daughter of an Italian, who was the Elector’s chief kapellmeister. The Italian refused the hand of his daughter, and forbade any further intercourse. Some time afterwards the three brothers met the kapellmeister on the occasion of a public execution; when, suddenly, the assembled crowd were horrified at seeing the Italian fall with a loud shriek, and pointing to a knife which had been plunged into his bosom. The brothers were all three arrested on suspicion of the murder; and the eldest, who had been standing nearest the deceased, was speedily sentenced to death. The two other brothers, to save him, however, each declared he was the real murderer, whereupon the perplexed judge referred the case to the Elector, who resolved upon a curious ordeal to ascertain the truth. He ordered each of the three brothers to carry a Linden-tree to a certain churchyard, and plant it with its head downwards, adding, that the one whose tree did not grow should be executed as the murderer. Accordingly, the brothers proceeded to the churchyard, accompanied by the clergy, the magistrates, and many citizens; and, after hymns had been sung, they planted their trees; after which solemn act, they were allowed to return home, and remained unguarded. In course of time, the upper branches of the Lindens all struck root, and the original roots were transformed into branches, which, instead of growing upwards, spread horizontally, in rich luxuriance, and, in thirty years, overshadowed the churchyard. They have since perished, but the brothers were ennobled by the Elector as Lords of Linden, and bore the effigy of the marvellous trees on their escutcheon. The youngest afterwards married the Italian’s daughter.

Ling.—See Heather.

LIVELONG.—The name of Livelong, or Liblong, is supposed to have been given to the Sedum Telephium from its remaining alive when hung up in a room. Parkinson, in his ‘Paradisus,’ states that the ladies of his time (1629) called the plant Life Everlasting; and remarks that “they are also laid in chests and wardrobes, to keep garments from moths, and are worne in the heads and arms of gentiles and others, for their beautiful aspect.” The plant is much esteemed for divining purposes. (See Orpine).

LONDON PRIDE.—A speckled Sweet John had formerly the honour of being called London Pride, and a red Sweet William, London Tufts. Saxifraga umbrosa now bears the title of London Pride, not, however, because, like the speckled Sweet John, it was the pride and ornament of old London gardens, but because it was introduced by Mr. London, a partner in the firm of London and Wise, Royal Gardeners in the early part of the eighteenth century. (See Saxifrage.)

Long Purples.—See Orchis.

Lords-and-Ladies.—See Arum.

LOOSESTRIFE.—The word Loosestrife is a translation of the plant’s Latin name Lysimachia (from the Greek lysis, dissolution, and mache, strife). Gerarde, who calls the plant, also, Willow-herb, says of it:—“Lysimachia, as Dioscorides and Pliny write, tooke his name of a speciall vertue that it hath in appeasing the strife and unrulinesse which falleth out among oxen at the plough, if it be put about their yokes; but it rather retaineth and keepeth the name Lysimachia, of King Lysimachus, the sonne of Agathocles, the first finder-out of the nature and vertues of this herbe.” He adds that the smoke of the herb when burnt will drive away gnats, flies, all manner of venomous beasts, and serpents; and says that Pliny reports that snakes will crawl away at the smell of Loosestrife.

LOTOS-TREE.—Lotis, the beauteous daughter of Neptune, was unfortunate enough to attract the notice of Priapus, who attempted to offer her violence. Flying terrified from the deformed deity, the nymph invoked the assistance of the gods to save herself from his odious importunities: her prayers were heard, and she was transformed into the Lotos-tree. Dryope, the wife of Andræmon, passing the tree one day, in company with her sister Iole, stopped to pluck the fruit to please her infant son Amphisus, whereupon she became suddenly changed into a Lotos-tree. Iole afterwards recounted her fate to Alcmena—

“But, lo! I saw (as near her side I stood)
The violated blossoms drop with blood;
Upon the tree I cast a frightful look,
The trembling tree with sudden horror shook,
Lotis, the nymph (if rural tales be true)
As from Priapus’ lawless lust she flew,
Forsook her form; and, fixing here, became
A flow’ry plant, which still preserves her name.
This change unknown, astonished at the sight,
My trembling sister strove to urge her flight;
Yet first the pardon of the nymph implored,
And those offended sylvan powers adored:
But when she backward would have fled, she found
Her stiffening feet were rooted to the ground.”—Ovid.

The tree into which the nymph Lotis was transformed must not be confounded with the Lotus Lily, or Sacred Bean, a totally distinct plant: it was the Rhamnus Lotus, the Lotos of the Lotophagi, a people inhabiting the coast of Africa near the Syrtes. Pliny states that not far from the lesser Syrtis is the island of Menynx, surnamed Lotophagitis on account of its Lotos-trees; but Strabo affirms that the lesser Syrtis, in addition to the adjacent isle of Menynx, was thought to be Lotophagitis, the land of the Lotos-eaters. In this country, he says, there are certain monuments to be seen, and an altar to Ulysses, besides a great abundance of Lotos-trees, whose fruit is wonderfully sweet. According to Homer, the Lotos-eater became oblivious of the world and its cares; and he relates how the seductive fruit of the Lotos-tree possessed of old so potent a charm, that Ulysses, when returning from the Trojan war, dreaded it would lure his companions to give up home and friends for ever. In the ninth book of the Odyssey, the poet sings—

“And whoso tasted of their flowery meat
Cared not with tidings to return, but clave
First to that tribe, for ever fain to eat—
Reckless of home return—the tender Lotos sweet.”

Gerarde describes the Lotos-tree as being as big as a Pear-tree, of a “gallant greene colour tending to blewnesse,” with leaves similar to the Nettle, dashed here and there with stripes of a yellowish-white colour. “The beries be round, and hang upon long stalks like Cherries, of a yellowish-white colour at the first, and afterwards red, but being ripe they are somewhat black.” The Lotos-eaters were held to have immunity from all stomachic complaints. The fruit which formed their food is described by Theophrastus as being of the size of a Bean, which changed its colour when ripening, like the Grape. In flavour it was sweet, pleasant, harmless, and perfectly wholesome; the most agreeable sort being that which had no kernel. Whole armies were reported to have been fed with the nutritious food afforded by the Lotos, when passing through Africa. The Lotophagi obtained a wine from their beloved fruit, which, however, Cornelius Nepos says would not endure above ten days. The Lotos and its fruit is dwelt upon by Tennyson, who tells how

“The mild-eyed melancholy Lotos-eaters came,
Branches they bore of that enchanted stem,
Laden with flowers and fruit, whereof they gave
To each; but whoso did receive of them
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave
Far, far away did seem to mourn and rave
On alien shores.”

The Lotos was considered by Theophrastus to be by nature everlasting. Pliny enumerates several very ancient trees growing in Rome, notably one in Vulcan’s temple built by Romulus, which was reputed to be as old as the city.——It was under the Lotos-tree, beyond which there is no passing, that Mahomed saw the angel Gabriel.

LOTUS.—The Lotus, as described by Herodotus, is the “Water Lily that grows in the inundated lands of Egypt”: it is the Nymphæa Lotus of Linnæus, and, according to Grecian mythology, owed its origin to a young girl who was deeply in love with Hercules, and who, dying of jealousy, was transformed into the Lotus. With the Greeks, the flower was the symbol of beauty and of eloquence, perhaps because it was reputed to flourish in the fields of Helicon. Young girls twined these flowers into garlands. Theocritus writes of maidens carrying a crown of Lotus for the Princess Helen on her marriage with Menelaus. In a painted temple at Pompeii, the Lotus-flower is represented above a geni or winged god.——The Grecian god of silence (Harpocrates), who was of Egyptian origin, is represented sometimes with a Lotus-flower in his left hand; sometimes seated on a Lotus.——But it is in the East where the Lotus is supreme—a sacred plant not merely revered as a symbol, but even the object of worship in itself, and notably in Hindostan, Thibet, and Nepaul, where it is believed that from its mystic blossom came forth the all-powerful Brahma. In the Hindu theology, Om is the one Supreme Being from whom proceed the great deities Brahma (creator), Vishnu (preserver), and Siva (destroyer). Before the creation of this world, there existed an immense sea covering its surface; on this vast sea moved the spirit of Om, and quickened into life a golden Lotus, resplendent as the sun, from which emanated the four-formed creative god Brahma, who by the radiance of his countenance dispelled the pervading gloom, and by the light and warmth of his divine presence evoked the earth from the surrounding waters. Vishnu, the pervader or preserver, is represented with four arms: from his umbilicus springs a Lotus-plant, in the beautiful calyx of which Brahma appears seated, ready to accomplish the work of creation. The breath of Vishnu is like the perfume of the Lotus, and he rests and walks, not on the earth, but on nine golden Lotus-plants, carried by the gods themselves. The heaven of Vishnu is described in the Mahâbhârata as blazing with golden edifices studded with innumerable gems. Descending from the superior heaven the waters of the Ganges flow through this Paradise, and here are also lovely diminutive lakes of water, upon the surfaces of which myriads of red, blue, and white Lotus-flowers, with a thousand petals, are seen floating. On a throne glorious as the meridian sun, seated on Lotus-lilies, is Vishnu, and on the right hand is his wife, the goddess Lakshmî, also seated in a Lotus, shining like a continued blaze of lightning, while from her beauteous form the fragrance of the Lotus is diffused through the heaven. Siva, the destroyer (the third member of the Hindoo triad), is represented in many ways, but generally with three eyes; his favourite seat is a Lotus. Buddha, an emanation from Vishnu, like Brahma, first appeared on this hemisphere floating on an enormous Lotus, which spread itself over the ocean. Buddha had for his symbol a Lotus, surmounted by a trident (typical of the Sun with a flame, or the superior heaven).——The emblem of the Sun was called Sûramani (the jewel of the Sun), but when the Svâbhâvikas adopted the Lotus as their symbol of spontaneous generation, they called this ornament Padmi Mani (jewel of the Lotus), and inscribed their temples with these words:—

- AUM
  Jehovah
- MANI
  The Jewel
- PADMI
  Lotus
- HOONG.
  Amen.

This sentence forms the Alpha and Omega of Lama worship, and is unceasingly repeated by the devotees of Thibet and the slopes of the Himalayas. For the easy multiplication of this prayer, that extraordinary contrivance, the praying-wheel, was invented. In accordance with the principles of this belief, Jin-ch’au represents all creation as a succession of worlds, typified by Lotus-flowers, which are contained one within the other, until intelligence is lost in the effort to multiply the series ad infinitum.——A legend connected with Buddha runs as follows:—In an unknown town, called Bandnumak, Bipaswi Buddh arrived one day, and having fixed his abiding place on a mountain to the east of Nâg-Hrad, saw in a pool a seed of the Lotus on the day of the full moon, in the month of Chait. Soon afterwards from this Lotus-seed sprang a Lotus-flower, in the middle of which appeared Swayambhû, in the form of a luminary, on the day of the full moon in the month of Asvins.——Another Buddhist legend relates that the King Pându had the imprudence to burn a tooth of Buddha, which was held in high reverence among the Kalingas: but a Lotus-flower sprang from the middle of the flame, and the tooth of Buddha was found lying on its petals.——In Eastern India, it is popularly thought that the god Brahma first appeared on a sea of milk, in a species of Lotus of extraordinary grandeur and beauty, which grew at Temerapu, and which typified the umbilicus of that ocean of sweetness. To that flower is given eighteen names, which celebrate the god’s different beauties; and within its petals he is believed to sleep during six months of the year.——Kâmadeva, the Indian Cupid, was first seen floating down the sacred Ganges, pinioned with flowers, on the blossom of a roseate Lotus.——The Hindus compare their country to a Lotus-flower, of which the petals represent Central India, and the eight leaves the surrounding eight divisions of the country. The sacred images of the Indians, Japanese, and Tartars are nearly always found seated upon the leaves of the Lotus.——The sacred Lotus, as the hallowed symbol of mystery, was deemed by the priests of India and China an appropriate ornament for their religious structures, and hence its spreading tendrils and perfect blossoms are found freely introduced as architectural enrichments of the temples of the East.——Terms of reverence, endearment, admiration, and eulogy have been freely lavished by Indian writers on the flowers of the Lotus, dear to the sick women of their race from the popular belief of its efficacy in soothing painful feelings. Nearly every portion of the human body has been compared by Indian poets to the Lotus; and in one of their works, the feet of the angels are said to resemble the flowers of that sacred plant.——The Persians represent the Sun as being robed with light and crowned with Lotus.——By the Japanese, the Lotus is considered as a sacred plant, and pleasing to their deities, whose images are often seen sitting on its large leaves. The blossom is deemed by them the emblem of purity because it is unsullied by the muddy waters in which it often grows: with the flowers of the Mother-wort it is borne aloft in vases before the body in funeral processions.——The Chinese make the Lotus typical of female beauty: their god Puzza is always represented as seated upon the leaves of the plant.——The Lotus is stated to be held sacred by the Egyptians because it conceals the secret of the gods; from the throne of Osiris, Isis, and Nephthys, it rises in the midst of the waters, bearing on the margin of its blossom the four genii. It is the “Bride of the Nile,” covering the surface of the mighty river, as it rises, with its fragrant white blossom. Like the Indians, the ancient Egyptians represented the creation of the world under the form of a Nymphæa that floated on the surface of the waters. The Lotus was consecrated by the Egyptians to the Sun, and the dawn of day was figured by them as a youth seated upon a flower of the Nymphæa. The god Osiris (the Egyptian Phœbus) is represented as having his head decorated with the sacred Lotus. Oblations of flowers were common among the offerings of the Egyptians to their gods. A papyrus in the British Museum (lent by the Prince of Wales) represents the altar of the god Re or Ra piled up with Lotus-blossoms and other offerings. Upon approaching a place of worship, the ancient Egyptian always held the flower of the Lotus or Agrostis in his hand. A single flower was sometimes deemed a suitable oblation, or a bouquet of the Lotus or Papyrus, carefully arranged in a prescribed form, was offered.——The Lotus typified Upper Egypt; the Papyrus, Lower Egypt. In the British Museum are several Egyptian statues with sceptres of the Lotus; and a mummy with crossed arms, holding in each hand a Lotus-flower. In the mummies of females the Lotus is found, placed there probably to typify regeneration or purification. A bust of Isis emerging from a Lotus-flower has often been mistaken for Clytie changing into a Sunflower.——The Egyptians cultivated three species of Nymphæaceæ—the Nymphæa cerulea, or blue-flowered Lotus; the Nymphæa Lotus, a white-flowered variety, which still grows profusely in Lower Egypt, and which is the flower represented in the mosaic pavement at Præneste; and, lastly, the Nelumbium speciosum, or Sacred Bean—the “Rose Lily” of Herodotus—the true Lotus of the Egyptians, whose blossoms are of a brilliant red colour, and hang over broad peltated leaves: its fruit is formed of many valves, each containing a Nut about the size of a Filbert, with a taste more delicate than that of the Almond. It has been thought that the use of the seeds in making bread, and the mode of sowing them, by enclosing each seed in a ball of clay, and throwing it into the water, may be alluded to in the text, “Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days.” The Nelumbo maintains its sacred character in Africa, India, China, Japan, Persia, and Asiatic Russia; it has, however, disappeared from Egypt.——The Arabians call the Lotus, Nuphar; and the Syrians regard it as a symbol of the cradle of Moses, and typify, also, the Ark of Noah by the same flower.——The collar of the order of the Star of India is composed of the heraldic Rose of England, two Palm-branches crossed, and a Lotus-flower, alternating with each other.

LOVE PLANTS.—The Clematis Vitalba was formerly called Love, because of its habit of embracing; from its clinging to people, the Galium Aparine has obtained the name of Loveman; Levisticum officinale is Loveage; the Solanum Lycopersicum is the Apple of Love; Nigella damascena is Love-in-a-mist; the Pansy is called Love-in-idleness and Love-and-idle; and Amaranthus caudatus has been named Love-lies-bleeding, from the resemblance of its crimson flowers to a stream of blood.

LUCK-FLOWER.—There is in Germany a favourite legend of a certain mystical Luck-flower which possesses the extraordinary power of gaining admittance for its owner into the recesses of a mountain, or hidden cave, or castle, wherein vast treasures lie concealed. The legend generally runs that the fortunate discoverer of the receptacle for wealth is a man who has by chance found a beautiful flower, usually a blue one, which he sticks in his hat. Suddenly the mountain he is ascending opens to admit him; astounded at the sight, he enters the chasm, and a white lady or fairy bids him help himself freely from the heaps of gold coin he sees lying all around. Dazzled at the sight of so much wealth, he eagerly fills his pockets, and is hastening away when she calls after him, “Forget not the best!” He thinks, as he feels his stuffed pockets, that he cannot find room for any more, but as he imagines the white lady wishes to imply that he has not helped himself to enough, he takes his hat and fills that also with the glittering gold. The white lady, however, alluded to the little blue flower which had dropped from his hat whilst he stooped to gather up the gold coins. As he hurries out through the doorway the iron door shuts suddenly behind him with a crash of thunder, and cuts off his right heel. The mountain side instantly resumes its old impenetrable appearance, and the entrance to the treasure hall can never be found again. As for the wonderful flower, that has vanished, but is to this day sought for by the dwellers on the Kyffhäuser, on the Quästenburg, and even on the north side of the Harz. It was from this legend that, according to Grimm, the little blue flower “Forget-me-not” originally received its name, which at first was indicative of its magic virtue, but afterwards acquired a sentimental meaning from the tale of the drowning lover of the Danube and his despairing death cry.

Lunary.—See Moonwort and Honesty.

LUPINE.—The Romans cultivated the Lupine (Lupinus) as an article of food, and Pliny declared that nothing could be more wholesome than white Lupines eaten dry, and that this diet imparted a fresh colour and cheerful countenance.——The eating of Lupines was also thought to brighten the mind and quicken the imagination. It is related of Protogenes, a celebrated painter of Rhodes, that during the seven years he was employed in painting the hunting piece of Ialysus, who was the accredited founder of the State of Rhodes, he lived entirely upon Lupines and water, with an idea that this aliment would give him greater flights of fancy.——Virgil called the Lupine, Tristis Lupinus, the Sad Lupine, and this expression has given rise to much discussion—the only tangible explanation being that when the Lupine pulse was eaten without preparation to destroy the bitter, it was apt to contract the muscles and give a sorrowful appearance to the countenance.——The seeds are said to have been used by the ancients, in their plays and comedies, instead of pieces of money: hence the proverb, Nummus Lupinus, a piece of money of no value.——The Bolognese have a tradition that during the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt, the Lupine received the maledictions of the Virgin Mary, because, by the clatter and noise they made, certain plants of this species drew the attention of Herod’s minions to the spot where the tired and exhausted travellers had made a brief halt.

LYCHNIS.—The scarlet Lychnis Coronaria is, in the Catholic Church, dedicated to St. John the Baptist, and the text in which he is described as “a light to them which sit in darkness,” being taken in a literal sense, the flame-coloured flower was said to be lighted up for his day, and was called Candelabrum ingens. This flower is also called Rose-Campion, and, on the Continent, Cross of Jerusalem and Cross of Malta. By old writers it was known as Flower or Campion of Constantinople, Flower of Bristow, and Nonsuch.

MAGNOLIA.—The Magnolia grandiflora is one of those shrubs the baneful emanations from which have procured for them an ill name. It is a native of Carolina, and has large white blossoms of powerful fragrance. When wafted to a distance upon the air, the scent is delicious, but when inhaled in the immediate neighbourhood of a group of Magnolias in flower, it becomes overpowering. The Indians carefully avoid sleeping under a Magnolia in blossom, and it is stated that so powerful is the perfume of the flower, that a single blossom placed in a bedroom suffices to cause death in one night.

Maghet.—See Mayweed.

MAHWAH.—The Bassia latifolia, or Mahwah, is esteemed a sacred tree in India, and is, besides, interesting as being one of the few plants whose flowers are used as food by the human race. They are eaten raw by the poor of India, and are also employed largely in the distillation of a spirit somewhat resembling Scotch whiskey. A kind of flour is produced from them when dried, and so valuable are they to the Indians, that the prosperity of some parts of the country depends largely on their abundance. The Almond-like fruit is eaten, and an oil is obtained from it: the wood is hard, and is used by the Indians in constructing their huts. Among certain uncivilised hill tribes, the Mahwah is regarded as equal to a deity, so great is their affection for this tree, under whose branches they hold their assemblies and celebrate their anniversaries; on whose boughs they suspend, when not in use, their spears and their ploughshares, and beneath whose shadow they exhibit those mysterious circles of flint which take the place of idols with them. So, when attacked by the Hindus, the wild tribes fight with desperation for the defence of their Mahwahs, which their enemies, when at war with them, make a point of seizing and destroying.

MAIDENHAIR FERN.—Adiantum, or Capillus Veneris, derived its name from the Greek adiantos, unmoistened, in relation, doubtless, to its property of repelling water—a peculiarity noticed by Theophrastus, and also by Pliny, who says it is in vain to plunge the Adiantum in water, for it always remains dry. This property of remaining unmoistened by water was attributed to the hair of Venus, when she rose from the sea; and hence the Adiantum obtained the name of Capillus Veneris. Nevertheless, Adiantum was specially dedicated to Pluto and to Proserpine. Maidenhair is called polytrichon, because it brings forth a multitude of hairs; callitrichon, because it produces black and fair hair; Capillus Veneris, because it produces grace and love.——According to Egyptian symbolism, Adiantum indicated recovery from illness.——In the Catholic Church, the Maidenhair Fern is known as the Virgin’s Hair.

MAITHES or MAIDS.—The Pyrethrum Parthenium was formerly known by the name of Maithes (Maids), because by the old herbalists it was considered efficacious in hysterical and other irregularities of the system to which maidens are subject. In the same category are the plants formerly known as Maghet, Mather, or Maydweed (Anthemis Cotula), the Maydweed (Matricaria Chamomilla), Maudlein, or Costmary (Balsamita), Maudlin-wort or Moon Daisy (Chrysanthemum Leucanthemum), the Maudlin, or Herba divæ Mariæ (Achillea Ageratum), the Marguerite (Bellis perennis), and some others. These plants, bearing flowers with white ray florets, were thought to resemble the Moon, which, as it regulated the monthly periods of the year, was supposed, says Dr. Prior, to have an influence over female complaints. By the ancients these plants were consecrated to Isis, Juno Lucina, and Artemis, or Diana, the virgin goddess of the night; but were transferred by the Catholics to St. Mary Magdalene and St. Margaret of Cortona.

MAIZE.—The American aborigines worshipped Maize as a divinity. Children were kept to watch the precious grain as it grew, and guard it from the ravages of birds; but some of the tribes protected the thievish crow because of the legend that a crow had brought them the first seed of the sacred plant.——At the present day, the Indians regard it with superstitious veneration. They esteem it, says Schoolcraft, so important and divine a grain, that their story-tellers invented various tales in which this idea is symbolised under the form of a special gift from the Great Spirit. The Ojebwa-Algonquins, who call it Mon-da-min, or the Spirit’s grain or berry, cherish a legend, in which the stalk in full tassel is represented as descending from the sky, under the guise of a handsome youth, in response to the prayers of a young man offered up at his fast of virility.——Among the American colonists, the husking of the Maize was always accompanied with a rustic ceremony and gathering of the villagers.——Longfellow tells us how—

“In the golden weather the Maize was husked, and the maidens
Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover;
But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in the cornfield.
Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her lover.”

MALLOW.—The ancient Romans had some kind of Mallow (Malva) served up as vegetables, and the Egyptians, Syrians, and Chinese also use them as food. In Job’s days, these plants were eaten by those wandering tribes who, as the patriarch says, “cut up Mallows by the bushes, and Juniper-roots for their meat.” The Mallow formed one of the funeral flowers of the ancients, with whom it was customary to plant it around the graves of departed friends. The plant yields a fibre capable of being woven into a fabric; and there is an Eastern tradition that Mahomed was so delighted with the texture of a robe made of this material, that he forthwith miraculously turned the Mallow into a Pelargonium. The seeds of the Mallow are called by country children, cheeses. Clare recalls the days of his childhood, when he and his playmates sat—

“Picking from Mallows sport to please,
The crumpled seed we call’d a cheese.”

Pliny ascribes a magical power to Mallows. He says, “Whosoever shall take a spoonful of any of the Mallows shall that day be free from all the diseases that may come unto him;” and he adds, that it is especially good against the falling sickness. The same writer, quoting Xenocrates, attributes to the seed of Mallows the power of exciting the passions. Gerarde, writing of the Malva crispa, commends its properties in verse:—

“If that of health you have any speciale care,
Use French Mallowes, that to the body holsome are.”

MANCHINEEL.—The Manchineel-tree (Hippomane Mancinella) is one of ill repute. Its exhalations are stated to cause certain death to those who sleep beneath its foliage. It abounds in a white milky juice, which is highly poisonous; a single drop causing instant pain if it touches the human skin.

MANDRAKE.—The Atropa Mandragora derives its name from Atropos, the eldest of the all-powerful Parcæ, the arbiters of the life and death of mankind. Clothed in sombre black robes, and holding scissors in her hands, Atropos gathers up the various-sized clues of thread which, as the chief of the inexorable Fates, it is her privilege to cut according to the length of the persons’ lives they represent.——Another name bestowed by the Greeks upon the Mandrake was that of Circeium, derived from Circe, the weird daughter of Sol and Perseis, celebrated for her witchcraft and knowledge of magic and venomous herbs.——From the earliest ages, the Atropa Mandragora appears to have been deemed a mystic plant by the inhabitants of Eastern countries, and to have been regarded by them as stimulating the passions; on which account it is still used for preparing love potions. It is generally believed that the Mandrake is the same plant which the ancient Hebrews called Dudaim; and that these people held it in the highest esteem in Jacob’s time is evident from the notice in Genesis (xxx., 14) of Reuben finding it and carrying the plant to his mother Leah. From the remotest antiquity the Mandrakes were reputed in the East to possess the property of removing sterility; hence Rachel’s desire to obtain from Leah the plants that Reuben had found and given to his mother. It is certain that the Atropa Mandragora was looked upon by the ancients as something more than a mere vegetable, and, in fact, as an embodiment of some unquiet or evil spirit. In an Anglo-Saxon manuscript of the tenth or eleventh century, the Mandrake is said to shine in the night like a candle. The Arabs call it the Devil’s Candle, because of this nocturnal shining appearance; and in allusion to this peculiarity, Moore says of it in ‘Lalla Rookh’:—

“Such rank and deadly lustre dwells,
As in those hellish fires that light
The Mandrake’s charnel leaves at night.”

From times long past has come down the legend that the Mandrake is a dweller in the dark places of the earth, and that it thrives under the shadow of the gallows, being nourished by the exhalations or flesh of the criminals executed on the gibbet. Amongst other mysterious attributes, we are told by old writers that the Mandrake has the power of emitting sounds, and that when it is pulled out of the ground, it utters dreadful shrieks and groans, as if possessed of sensibility. Shakspeare thus describes these terrible cries:—

“Would curses kill, as doth the Mandrake’s groan,
I would invent as bitter-searching terms,
As curst, and harsh, and horrible to hear.”

And Moore relates in verse another tradition—

“The phantom shapes—oh touch them not—
That appal the maiden’s sight,
Lurk in the fleshy Mandrake’s stem
That shrieks when plucked at night.”

These screams were so horrible and awe-inspiring, that Shakspeare tells us the effect was maddening—

“And shrieks like Mandrakes, torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, ran mad.”

One other terrible attribute of this ill-omened plant was its power, by its pestilential effects, severely to injure, if not, indeed, to strike with death, the person who had the hardihood to drag the root from its bed. To guard against these dangers, therefore, the surrounding soil was removed, and the plant securely fastened to the tail of a dog, which was then driven away, and thus pulled up the root. Columella, in his directions for the site of gardens, says they may be formed where

“The Mandrakes flowers
Produce, whose root shows half a man, whose juice
With madness strikes.”

The Romans seem to have been very superstitious as to the manner of taking up the root. According to Pliny, those who undertook the office were careful to stand so that the wind was at their back; and before commencing to dig, they made three circles around the plant with the point of the sword; then, turning to the west, they proceeded to take it up. Probably the plant’s value as a narcotic and restorative alone induced the gathering of so dangerous a root.——In mediæval times, when ignorance and credulity were dominant in Europe, the mountebank quack doctors palmed on the credulous fictitious Mandrake-roots, which were largely sold as preventives against mischief and dangers. Speaking of this superstition, Lord Bacon, in his ‘Natural History,’ says, “Some plants there are, but rare, that have a mossie or downie root, and likewise that have a number of threads, like beards, as Mandrakes, whereof witches and impostours make an ugly image, giving it the forme of a face at the top of the root, and leave those strings to make a broad beard down to the foot.”——Madame de Genlis speaks of an author who gravely gives a long description of the little idols which were supposed to be roots of the Mandrake, and adds that they must be wrapped up in a piece of sheet, for that then they will bring unceasing good luck. The same author, she says, gives this name Mandragora (Mandrake) to certain sprites that are procured from an egg that must be hatched in a particular manner, and from which comes forth a little monster (half chick and half man) that must be kept in a secret chamber, and fed with the seed of Spikenard, and that then it will prophesy every day. Thus it can make its master lucky at play, discover treasures to him, and foretell what is to happen.——The credulous people of some nations have believed that the root of the Mandrake, if dislodged from the ground, becomes the good genius of the possessor, and not only cures a host of maladies, but discovers hidden treasures; doubling the amount of money locked up in a box, keeping off evil spirits, acting as a love charm, and rendering other notable services. According to Pliny, the Mandrake was sometimes conformed like a man, at others like a woman: the male was white, the female black. In the mountain of Pistoia, the peasants think they can trace the form of a man in the leaves of the Mandrake, and of the human face in the roots.——In Germany, since the time of the Goths, the word alruna has borne the double meaning of witch and Mandrake. Considering the roots to possess magical properties, the Germans formed from them little idols, to which they gave the name of Alrunen. These images were regularly habited every day, and consulted as oracles; their repute becoming very great, large numbers were manufactured and sold in cases: in this state they were brought over to this country during the reign of Henry VIII., and met with a ready sale. Fraudulent dealers used to replace the Mandrake-roots with those of the White Briony, cut to the shape of men and women, and dried in a hot sand bath.——In France, under the names of Main de gloire or Maglore, the Mandrake became a species of elf; and, till the eighteenth century, there existed a wide-spread superstition among the peasantry connected therewith. Sainte-Palaye writes: “When I asked a peasant one day why he was gathering Mistletoe, he told me that at the foot of the Oaks on which the Mistletoe grew, he had a Mandrake (Main de gloire); that this Mandrake had lived in the earth from whence the Mistletoe sprang; that he was a kind of mole; that he who found him was obliged to give him food,—bread, meat, or some other nourishment; and that he who had once given him food was obliged to give it every day, and in the same quantity, without which the Mandrake would assuredly cause the forgetful one to die. Two of his countrymen, whom he named to me, had, he said, lost their lives; but, as a recompense, this Main de gloire returned on the morrow double what he had received the previous day. If one paid cash for the Main de gloire’s food one day, one would find double the amount the following; and so with anything else. A certain countryman, whom he mentioned as still living, and who had become very rich, was believed to have owed his wealth to the fact that he had found one of these Mains de gloire.”——The Chinese physicians assert that the Mandrake has the faculty of renovating exhausted constitutions.

MANGO.—The Indian mythologists relate that the daughter of the Sun, persecuted by a wicked enchantress, plunged into a pool, where she was transformed into a golden Lotus. The king became enamoured of the beautiful flower, so the enchantress burnt it; but from its ashes rose the Mango (Mangifera Indica). Then the king fell in love, first with the Mango-flower, and next with the fruit, which he ordered to be carefully preserved for his own use. At last, just as the fruit was ripe, it fell from the bough, and out of it issued the daughter of the Sun, whom the king, after having lost and forgotten, now recognised as his former wife.——The Indian poets are never tired of singing the praises of the Mango, the beauty of its flowers, and the sweetness of its fruit. The Indian Cupid Kâmadeva is represented as having five arrows, each tipped with the blossom of a flower which pierce the heart through one of the five senses. A young maiden once plucked one of these blossoms, and offered it to the god, saying:—

“God of the bow, who with Spring’s choicest flowers
Dost point the five unerring shafts; to thee
I dedicate this blossom; let it serve
To barb thy truest arrow; be its mark
Some youthful heart that pines to be beloved.”

Kâmadeva accepted the offering, and tipped with the Mango-flower one of his darts, which, from that time, was known as the arrow of love, and is the god’s favourite dart. Along with Sandalwood, the wood of the Mango is used by the Hindus in burning their dead. Among the Indian jugglers, the apparent production and growth of the Mango-tree is a performance executed in such a marvellous manner as to excite the astonishment of those who have most determined to discover how the illusion is effected.

MANNA.—Some naturalists consider that the Manna miraculously provided for the sustenance of the Children of Israel in the Desert was a species of Lichen—the Parmelia esculenta. Josephus, however, describes it as a kind of dew which fell, like honey in sweetness and pleasant taste, but like in its body to Bdellium, one of the sweet spices, but in bigness equal to Coriander-seed. The origin of the different species of Manna or sugary exudations which cover certain trees, has at all times been a subject of wonder, and for a long time it was thought that these saccharine tears, which appear so quickly, were simply deposits from the atmosphere. The Manna used in medicine is principally procured from the flowering Ash (Fraxinus ornus), which is cultivated for the purpose in Sicily and Calabria: the puncture of an insect of the cochineal family causes the sap to exude. The Manna of Mount Sinai is drawn from the Tamarisk by puncture of the coccus: it exudes in a thick syrup during the day, falls in drops, congeals in the night, and is gathered in the cool of the morning. The Larch-tree furnishes the Manna of Briançon. A sweet substance resembling Manna exudes from the leaves of the Eucalyptus resinifera, dries in the sun, and when the leaves are shaken by the wind, falls like a shower of snow. In some countries, even herbs are covered with an abundant sugary exudation similar to Manna. Bruce observed this in Abyssinia. Matthiolus relates that in some parts of Italy the Manna glues the grass of the meadows together in such a manner as to impede the mowers at their work.——To dream of Manna denotes that you will be successful through life, and overcome all troubles.

MAPLE.—The wood of the Maple (Acer) was considered by Pliny to be, in point of elegance and firmness, next to the Citron itself. The veined knobs of old Maples, known as the bruscum and molluscum, were highly prized by the Romans, and of these curiously-marked woods were made the famous Tigrine and Pantherine tables, which were of such immense value, that when the Romans reproached their wives for their extravagance in jewels, they were wont to retort and (literally) “turn the tables” upon their husbands. Evelyn tells us, that such a table was that of Cicero, “which cost him 10,000 sesterces; such another had Asinius Gallus. That of King Juba was sold for 15,000; and yet that of the Mauritanian Ptolemy was far richer, containing four feet and a half diameter, three inches thick, which is reputed to have been sold for its weight in gold.”——Some centuries ago, Maple-wood was in great request for bowls and trenchers. The unfortunate Fair Rosamond is reputed to have drunk her fatal draught of poison from a Maple bowl; and the mediæval drinking-vessels, known as mazers, were chiefly made of this material—deriving their name from the Dutch Maeser, Maple.——On May-day, in Cornwall, the young men proceed, at daybreak, to the country, and strip the Maple (or Sycamore) trees—there called May-trees—of all their young branches, to make whistles, and with these shrill musical instruments they enliven their way home with “May music.”——In Germany, the Maple is regarded with much superstitious reverence. There existed formerly, in Alsace, a curious belief that bats possessed the power of rendering the eggs of storks unfruitful. When once a stork’s egg was touched by a bat, it became sterile; and so, in order to preserve it, the stork placed in its nest some branches of the Maple, and the wonderful power of this tree sufficed to frighten away every intruding bat.——De Gubernatis relates a Hungarian fairy tale, in which the Maple plays a conspicuous part. According to this legend, a king had three daughters, one of whom, a beautiful blonde, was in love with a shepherd, who charmed her with delightful music he produced from a flute. One night, the king, the princess, and the shepherd, were disturbed by disquieting dreams. The king dreamt that his crown had lost its diamonds; the princess that she had visited her mother’s tomb and was unable to get away from it; the shepherd that two fallow deer had devoured the best lamb in his flock. After this dream, the king called his three daughters to him, and announced to them that she who should first bring to him a basket of Strawberries should become his pet daughter, and inherit his crown and seven kingdoms. The three daughters hastened to a neighbouring hill to gather the Strawberries. There, setting down their baskets, each one in turn wished that her basket might be filled with fruit. The wishes of the two elder sisters were unheeded; but when it came to the blonde’s turn, her wish was no sooner expressed, than her basket was filled with Strawberries. At this sight, the two sisters, mad with envy, fell upon the poor blonde, and slew her; then, having buried her under an old Maple-tree, they broke her basket in two, and divided the Strawberries between them. On their return to the palace, they told the king that their sister had been devoured by a fallow deer. On hearing this sad news, the unhappy father exclaimed: “Alas! I have lost the most precious diamond of my crown.” At the approach of the new moon, the shepherd took up his flute to play a tune; but it was mute, for the fair princess was no longer there to listen to its tuneful notes. Meanwhile, on the third night, there sprang from the stem of the old Maple on the hill a new shoot, on the spot where the poor princess had met her cruel death. The shepherd, happening to pass by, saw this fresh shoot from the Maple, and thought he would make from it a new flute. So he cut the Maple-shoot, and from it fashioned a flute; but the moment he placed it to his lips, the flute sang, “Play, play, dearest. Once I was a king’s daughter; then I was a Maple-shoot; now I am a flute made from the Maple-shoot.” The shepherd rushed off with the flute to the king, who put it to his lips, when instantly it sang, “Play, play, my father. Once, &c.” Then the two wicked sisters approached, and each in turn put the flute to her lips—only, however, to hear it hiss, “Play, play, murderess. Once, &c.” Then the king, becoming aware of the sisters’ wickedness, cursed them, and drove them with bitter reproaches from his palace into the wide world.——The Maple has been made the emblem of reserve, because its flowers are late in opening, and slow to fall.——A curious belief exists in some parts of England, that the Maple can confer longevity on children, if they are passed through its branches. In West Grinstead Park, Sussex, was an old Maple much used for this purpose, and, upon a rumour reaching the parish, that the ancient tree was to be felled, many petitions were made that it might be spared.——Pliny says that Maple-root, pounded, is a remedy for pains in the liver, and Gerarde states that, steeped in wine, it is useful in stopping pain in the side. He quotes a verse from Sammonicus, which he thus translates:—

“Thy harmless side if sharp disease invade,
In hissing water quench a heated stone:
This drink. Or Maple-root in powder made,
Take off in wine, a present med’cine known.”

MARGUERITE.—The Daisy (Bellis perennis), which Chaucer called “douce Margarette,” derives its French name of Marguerite from its supposed resemblance to a pearl. In Germany, indeed, it is known as the Meadow-pearl, and Chaucer, in describing the flower, says:—

“And of a perle fine orientall,
Her white croune was imaked all.”

The Greek word for pearl, Margarites, became in Latin Margarita, remained the same in Italian, and in French was spelt Marguerite; the same word in each language indicating both the pearl and the flower we call Daisy. This flower was formerly employed in the treatment of certain female complaints, and on that account, perhaps, was dedicated by the Monks to St. Margaret of Cortona. Chaucer, in error, referred the name Margaret, as bestowed on the Daisy, to St. Margaret of Hungary, who was martyred in the thirteenth century; but in an old legend it is stated

“There is a double flowret, white and red,
That our lasses call Herb Margaret,
In honour of Cortona’s penitent,
Whose contrite soul with red remorse was rent;
While on her penitence kind Heaven did throw
The white of purity surpassing snow;
So white and red in this fair flower entwine,
Which maids are wont to scatter at her shrine.”

This St. Margaret of Cortona, who in mediæval days was very popular, had for some years, says Mrs. Jameson, led an abandoned life, but having repented and been canonised, she was regarded by the people of her native town as a modern Magdalene; and, like her prototype, was supposed, on account of her early habits, to preside over uterine diseases, and others peculiar to young women. The Daisy, and other flowers which were supposed from their shape to resemble the Moon, were by the ancients dedicated to the virgin goddess of the night, Artemis, or Diana: but in Christian times were transferred to the two saints who replace her, namely, St. Mary Magdalene and St. Margaret of Cortona. Dr. Prior, in his work on plant names, points out that this latter saint has often been confounded with a St. Margaret of Antioch, who was “invoked as another Lucina, because in her martyrdom she prayed for lying-in-women.” This maiden of Antioch is described in old metrical legends as

> “Maid Marguerite that was so meeke and milde.”

The Daisy has been connected with several eminent women of the name of Margaret. Margaret of Anjou wore the flower as her device, and had it embroidered on the robes of her courtiers. Lady Margaret, the mother of Henry VII., wore three white Daisies; Margaret, the sister of Francis I., also wore the Daisy, and was called by her brother his Marguerite of Marguerites—his pearl of pearls. (See Daisy).

MARIGOLD.—The African Marigold (Tagetes erecta) is regarded as a sacred flower in Northern India, where the natives adorn the trident emblem of Mahâdeva with garlands of it; and both men and women wear chaplets made of its flowers on his festival.——The Romans named the European Marigold Calendula—the flower of the Calends—from a notion that it blossoms the whole year.——In the oldest of English herbals, the ‘Grete Herball,’ the Marigold is called Mary Gowles, but by the old poets it is frequently alluded to as Gold simply, and it is still called Goules or Goulans in some counties of England. Another old English name for these flowers was Ruddes.——From its tawny yellow blossom the Marigold is presumed to have been the Chrusanthemon, or Gold Flower, of the Greeks.——In mediæval times, this flower, along with numerous others, was dedicated by the monks and nuns to the Virgin, and had the prefix Mary appended to its name. According to an old tradition, however, the Marigold was so called because the Virgin Mary wore this flower in her bosom.——Shakspeare, in ‘Cymbeline,’ speaks of the flower as the Mary-bud, and in ‘A Winter’s Tale,’ alludes to its habit of closing at sunset and opening at sunrise:—

“The Marigold that goes to bed with the sun,
And with him rises weeping.”

Linnæus states that the flower is usually open from 9 a.m. till 3 p.m., and this foreshows a continuance of dry weather. Should the blossom remain closed, rain may be expected. This circumstance, and the plant’s habit of turning its golden face towards the sun, has gained for it the name of the “Sun-flower” and the “Spouse of the Sun”.——Marguerite of Orleans, the maternal grandmother of Henri IV., chose for her armorial device a Marigold turning towards the sun, and for a motto, “Je ne veux suivre que lui seul.”——In America, Marigolds are called Death-flowers, in reference to an existing tradition that the crimson and gold-coloured blossoms sprang upon ground stained by the life-blood of those unfortunate Mexicans who fell victims to the love of gold and arrogant cruelty of the early Spanish settlers in America.——In the reign of Henry VIII., the Marigold was called Souvenir, and ladies wore wreaths of them intermixed with Heart’s-ease.——To dream of Marigolds appears to be of happy augury, denoting prosperity, riches, success, and a happy and wealthy marriage.——The Marigold is deemed by astrologers a Solar herb, under the sign Leo.

MARJORAM.—The origin of Marjoram (Origanum vulgare: Greek, Amarakos) is related by the Greeks as follows:—A young man named Amaracus was employed in the household of Cinyras, King of Cyprus: one day, when carrying a vase containing perfumes, he unfortunately let it fall, and was so frightened at the mishap that he lost all consciousness, and became metamorphosed into an odoriferous herb called at first Sampsuchon, and afterwards Amarakos. According to Rapin, the goddess Venus first raised Sweet Marjoram. He says:—

“And tho’ Sweet Marjoram will your garden paint
With no gay colours, yet preserve the plant,
Whose fragrance will invite your kind regard,
When her known virtues have her worth declared:
On Simois’ shore fair Venus raised the plant,
Which from the goddess’ touch derived her scent.”

The Greeks and Roman crowned young married couples with Marjoram, which in some countries is the symbol of honour.——Astrologers place the herb under the rule of Mercury.

MARSH MALLOW.—The name Althæa (from a Greek root meaning to cure) was given to this plant on account of its manifold healing properties, which were duly appreciated by the old herbalists. It was sometimes called Bismalva, being held to be twice as good in medicinal properties as the ordinary Mallow. As an ointment, it was celebrated for mollifying heat, and hence it became invaluable as a protection to those who had to undergo the ordeal of holding red-hot iron in their hands. This ordeal was practised by the ancient Greeks; for we read in the ‘Antigone’ of Sophocles, that the guards placed over the body of Polynices—which had been carried away surreptitiously—offered, in order to prove their innocence, to take up red-hot iron in their hands: a similar ordeal was extant in the Middle Ages, when invalids and delicate persons, particularly monks and ecclesiastics, were exempted from the usual mode of single combat, and were required to test their innocence by holding red-hot iron in their hands. These trials were made in the church during the celebration of mass, inspection being made by the clergy alone. The suspected person, therefore, if he had any friends at hand, was easily shielded by covering his hand with a thick coating of some substance which would enable him to resist the action of heat. Albertus Magnus describes a paste compounded in the thirteenth century for this express purpose. The sap of the Marsh Mallow, the slimy seeds of a kind of Fleabane, and the white of a hen’s egg, were combined to make the paste adhere, and the hands covered with it were perfectly safe.——According to a German tradition, an ointment made of the leaves of the Marsh Mallow was employed to anoint the body of anyone affected by witchcraft.——The Marsh Mallow is held by astrologers to be a herb of Venus.

MARSH MARIGOLD.—According to Rapin, the Sicilian shepherd Acis originally discovered the Marsh Marigold (Caltha) growing in his native pastures:—

“Nor without mention shall the Caltha die,
Which Acis once found out in Sicily;
She Phœbus loves, and from him draws her hue,
And ever keeps his golden beams in view.”

The flower’s modern Italian name, Sposa di Sole, has probably been given to it in reference to this legend. On May-day, country people strew Marsh Marigolds before their doors, and twine them into garlands. Some think the Caltha palustris to be Shakspeare’s “winking May-bud with golden eye,” which, if plucked with due care, and borne about, will hinder anyone from speaking an angry word to the wearer.

MASTIC.—The Mastic or Pistachio-tree (Pistacia Lentiscus), the symbol of purity and virginity, was particularly dear to Dictynna, a nymph of Crete, and one of Diana’s attendants. Following her example, the Greek virgins were fond of adorning themselves with Mastic-sprays; and at the present time, in the isle of Chios, where the Mastic-tree flourishes, they eat the gum to preserve sweetness of breath. The Mastic is stated to have been under the special protection of Bacchus, as being the tree under which the Bacchanals found and slew Pentheus, King of Thebes, who had forbidden his subjects to acknowledge the new god.

Mather.—See Mayweed.

Maudlein, Maudelyne, or Maudlin.—See Costmary.

Maudlin Wort.—See Moon Daisy.

MAURITIA.—The Moriche Palm (Mauritia flexuosa) is regarded as a sacred tree by the Mexican Indians. Certain tribes live almost entirely on its products, and, strange to say, build their houses high up amongst its leaves, where they live during the floods. These Indians have a traditional Deluge, which they call the Water Age, when there was only one man and one woman left alive. To re-people the earth, the Deucalion and Pyrrha of the new world, instead of stones, threw over their shoulders the fruit of the Moriche Palm, and from its seeds sprang the whole human race. The Moriche is regarded as a deity among the Tamancas, a tribe of Oronoco Indians.

MAY.—The Hawthorn has obtained the name of May, or May-bush, from the time of its flowering. In Suffolk, it is believed to be unlucky to sleep in a room in which there is May in bloom. In Sussex, to bring a branch of blossoming May into the house is thought to portend a death. It was a custom in Huntingdonshire, forty years ago, for the rustic swains to place a branch of May in blossom before sunrise at the doorway of anyone they wished to honour, singing the while—

“A branch of May we have brought you,
And at your door it stands;
It is but a sprout,
But it’s well budded out,
By the work of our good Lord’s hands.”

An Italian proverb describes the universal lover as “one who hangs every door with May.” (See Hawthorn).

MAYFLOWER.—The Mayflower of New England, Epigæa repens, is the emblem of Nova Scotia. The trailing Arbutus, or Mayflower, is a native of North America; it grows abundantly in the vicinity of Plymouth, Massachusetts, and was the first flower that greeted the Pilgrims after their terrible winter.

MAYWEED.—The Mayweed, or more properly Maydweed (Anthemis Cotula), owes its name to its having been formerly used for the complaints of young women. In olden times, the plant was also known as Maghet, and Mather or Mauther, words signifying a maid.——The flower is distinguished as having, for its fairness, been likened to the brow of the Northern divinity Baldr.——The Matricaria Chamomilla is called Stinking Maydweed. (See Maithes, Costmary, and Moon Daisy.)

MELON.—According to a tradition of the Arabs, the Melon is to be found in Paradise, where it signifies that God is One, and that Ali is his true prophet.——Sebastian, a Roman traveller of the seventeenth century, recorded that on Mount Carmel, in the Holy Land, he had seen a field of Melons which had been turned into stones by the curse of Elias.——An old Tuscan legend records how the wife of a certain young king bore him three children, which were represented by the Queen’s jealous sisters to be a cat, a piece of wood, and a snake. The enraged king, upon this, cast his unfortunate wife into prison, whilst the three infants were secured by the wicked sisters in a box, and cast into the sea. A gardener found the box, and compassionating the helpless babes, brought them up, and taught them to tend his garden. Through the kindly offices of a good fairy, the king came to dinner one day, and a large Water Melon was gathered from the garden and placed before him. The king cut the Melon, when in place of seeds he discovered inside a number of precious stones. In astonishment, he demanded: “How is it possible that a Melon can produce gems?” Then the good fairy responded: “And how, sire, is it possible that a woman could give birth to a cat, a piece of wood, and a snake? Behold your three children, and hasten, cruel man, to release the poor innocent queen. The envy of her sisters has occasioned all this mischief.” The king was deeply affected; he embraced his children, and forthwith hastened with all speed to his wife, whose pardon he implored. Then he ordered public fêtes and rejoicings to take place, but condemned the wicked sisters to the stake.——According to dream oracles, a young woman who dreams of Melons is destined to marry a rich foreigner, and to live with him in a foreign land. If a young man dreams of Melons, it denotes that he will marry a rich foreign lady, by whom he will have a large family, but they will die young. If a sick person dreams of Melons, it is a prognostic of recovery by reason of their humidity or juicy substance.

Midsummer Men.—See Orpine.

MIGNONETTE.—The Mignonette, or Little Darling, is supposed to be an Egyptian plant, and to have been brought to England from the South of France, where it is called Herbe d’Amour, or Love-flower. Although a flower of no heraldic fame, the Mignonette is nevertheless, to be seen on the armoured shield of a noble Saxon house, and the origin of its adoption is related in the following legend:—A Count of Walstheim was betrothed to Amelia von Nordburg, a young and beautiful heiress, whose poor cousin Charlotte, an amiable girl of no particular personal charms, had been brought up with her from infancy. Returning one evening from a charitable visit, the humble dependent found her aunt’s saloon full of guests, the ladies busily occupied in selecting flowers for which their admirers were expected to improvise mottoes. Charlotte was invited to follow the example of her betters. Amelia von Nordburg had selected the Rose as her emblem, and her companions had naturally chosen such popular flowers as were best calculated to elicit gallant compliments. Thus most of the floral favourites had been appropriated; so Charlotte placed a modest spray of Mignonette in her dress. Noticing as she did so that her coquettish cousin was neglecting the Count of Walstheim for the fascinations of a gallant colonel, and anxious to recall the thoughtless heiress to her lover’s side, Charlotte asked the Count what motto he had ready for the Rose. Taking out his pencil, he wrote: “Elle ne vit qu’un jour, et ne plait qu’un moment;” and then presented her with this motto for her own Mignonette: “Ses qualités surpassent ses charmes.” His wilful fiancée took offence at the Count’s discrimination, and revenged herself by treating him with studied coldness and neglect; the result being that the Count transferred his affections to the dependent Charlotte, whom he soon afterwards married, and to celebrate the event added a spray of Mignonette to the ancient arms of his family.

MILK THISTLE.—The Thistle Silybum Marianum is called the Milk Thistle from a supposition that it derived the colour of its leaves from the Milk of the Virgin Mary having fallen on them as she suckled the infant Jesus.

MILKWORT.—In olden times, the Milkwort (Polygala vulgaris), bore the names of Cross-flower, Rogation-flower, Gang-flower, and Procession-flower, which were given it because, according to ancient usage, maidens made garlands of the flower, and carried them in procession during Rogation Week. At this period it was customary to offer prayers against plagues, fires, and wild beasts, and as the bounds of the parish were traversed on one of the days, it was also termed Gang Week. This custom was a relic of the ancient Ambarvalia. The bishop, or one of the clergy, perambulated the limits of the parish with the Holy Cross and Litanies, and invoked the blessing of God upon the crops; on which occasion, Bishop Kennett tells us, the maidens made garlands and nosegays of the Milkwort, which blossomed in Rogation Week, the next but one before the Whitsuntide.——Gerarde relates that, in Queen Elizabeth’s time, Milkwort-flowers were “vulgarly knowne in Cheapside to the herbe women by the name of Hedge Hyssop.” The plant was called Milkwort from an old belief that it increased the milk of mothers who took it.——A Javanese species, Polygala venenata, is greatly dreaded by the natives of Java for its poisonous effects; violent sneezing and faintness seizes anyone touching the leaves of this ill-omened plant.

MILLET.—According to Schlegel, Millet has, among the Chinese, given its name to the constellation Tien-tzi, “Celestial Millet,” which is composed of five stars, and presides at the grain harvest. Its clearness and brilliance presage an abundant harvest, its absence foretells famine. This constellation the Chinese consider as the residence of the King of the Cereals.——The grain of Millet has become proverbial as indicative of anything minute: possibly on this account, Millet portends misery if seen in a dream.——There is a legend in North Germany, that, long ago, a rich merchant had a fine garden, in which was a piece of land sown with Millet. One day the merchant discovered that a part of the Millet had been shorn during the preceding night, so he set his three sons to watch in case the theft should be repeated. Both the eldest and the second son fell asleep during their respective vigils; and on each occasion the theft was repeated, and further portions of the Millet disappeared. On the third night, the youngest son, John, agreed to watch: he surrounded himself with Thorns and Thistles, so that if he felt sleepy, and began to nod, the Thorns should prick him, and thus keep him awake. At midnight he heard a tramping, and then a sound of munching among the Millet: pushing aside the Thorns, John sprang out from his hiding-place, and saw a beautiful little colt feeding on the Millet. To catch the little animal was an easy task, and it was soon safely locked up in the stable. The merchant, overjoyed at the capture his vigilant son John had made, made him a present of the colt, which he named Millet-thief. Soon after this, the brothers heard of a beautiful princess who was kept by enchantment confined in a palace that stood on the top of a glass mountain, which no one, on account of its being so slippery, could ascend; but it was said that whosoever should be so fortunate as to reach its summit, and ride thrice round the palace, would disenchant the princess and obtain her hand in marriage. Numbers had already endeavoured to ride up the slippery mountain, but were precipitated to its foot; and their skeletons lay bleaching all around. The three brothers determined to try and ascend the mountain, but, alas, the two eldest fell with their horses down the treacherous mountain side, and lay sorely hurt. Then John saddled his little colt Millet-thief, and to his delight, when ridden to the mountain, he easily rattled up to its summit, and trotted round the palace three times as though he knew the road perfectly. Soon they stood in front of the palace-gates, which opened spontaneously, and the lovely princess stepped forth with a cry of joy, as she recognised in Millet-thief her own little colt, who had been accustomed to take her by night down the steep mountain, so that she might enjoy a gallop across the green fields—the only indulgence permitted her by the cruel enchanter. Then the princess bestowed her hand upon her deliverer, and they lived happily, far removed from worldly cares, in the palace on the glass mountain.

MIMOSA.—The Mimosa Catechu, according to Indian mythology, was the tree which sprang from the claw lost by a falcon whilst engaged in purloining the heavenly Soma, or Amrita, the drink of immortality. The Vedas recount that, when the gods were pining for the precious beverage, the falcon undertook to steal it from the demons who kept it shut up: the attempt was successful, but the falcon, whilst flying off with its prize, was wounded by an arrow discharged by one of the demons, and lost a claw and a feather. They fell to earth, and struck root there; the claw becoming the Indian Thorn-tree, or Mimosa Catechu—the younger branches of which have straight thorns, that afterwards become hooked, and bear a strong resemblance to a bird’s claw.——Bishop Heber tells us that, whilst travelling in Upper India, he saw, near Boitpoor, a Mimosa-tree, with leaves at a little distance so much resembling those of the Mountain Ash, that he was for a moment deceived, and asked if it did not bear fruit. The Bishop says: “They answered no; but that it was a very noble tree, being called the Imperial Tree for its excellent properties. That it slept all night, and awakened, and was alive all day, withdrawing its leaves if any one attempted to touch them. Above all, however, it was useful as a preservative against magic. A sprig worn in the turban, or suspended over the bed, was a perfect security against all spells, Evil Eye, &c., insomuch that the most formidable wizard would not, if he could help it, approach its shade. One, indeed, they said, who was very renowned for his power (like Lorinite, in the Kehama) of killing plants and drying up their sap with a look, had come to this very tree and gazed on it intently; but, said the old man, who told me this with an air of triumph, look as he might, he could do the tree no harm. I was amazed and surprised to find the superstition which in England and Scotland attaches to the Rowan-tree here applied to a tree of nearly similar form. What nation has, in this case, been the imitator? Or from what common centre are these common notions derived?”——The Mimosa sensitiva is the true Sensitive Plant, which collapses its leaflets upon the slightest touch (see Sensitive Plant); and another member of this singular family droops its branches whenever anyone approaches; hence Moore has called it

“That courteous tree
Which bows to all who seek its canopy.”

Frankincense is the product of the Egyptian Mimosa, a tree spoken of by Theophrastus as an Acanthus, and referred to by Virgil.

MIMUSOPS.—The Mimusops Elengi is one of the sacred trees of India, and dedicated to the god Krishna. An odoriferous water, highly prized, is distilled from the flowers, and the astringent bark of the tree is used medicinally.

MINT.—Ovid tells us, in his ‘Metamorphoses,’ that the nymph Minthe, a daughter of Cocytus, was beloved of Pluto, and that Proserpine, discovering her husband’s infidelity, transformed his mistress into the herb which is called by her name.——In olden times, Mint (Mentha) was called Herba bona and Herba sancta, and the ancients were wont to weave garlands of its foliage to be worn by brides—corona Veneris. In later days, the herb was dedicated to the Virgin, under the name of Herba Sanctæ Mariæ.——It was formerly customary to strew the churches with Mint or other herbs or flowers. In ‘Appius and Virginia,’ an old play, is an illustration of this custom:—

“Thou knave, but for thee ere this time of day
My lady’s fair pew had been strewed full gay
With Primroses, Cowslips, and Violets sweet,
With Mints, and with Marygold and Marjoram meet,
Which now lyeth uncleanly, and all along of thee.”

Among the women of the Abruzzi there exists a curious superstition. If, whilst walking, they should chance to come across a plant of Mint, they will bruise a leaf between their fingers, in order to ensure that, on the day of their death, Jesus Christ will assist them.——In Holstein, at the funeral of peasants, Mint is carried by youths attending the ceremony.——Pliny was of opinion that “the smell of Mint doth stir up the minde and taste to a greedy desire of meat;” and other old writers state that Mint should be smelled, as being refreshing for the head and memory; probably on this account it was formerly a custom to strew it “in chambers and places of recreation, pleasure, and repose, and when feasts and banquets are to be made.” Gerarde says of this herb:—“It is poured into the eares with honied water. It is taken inwardly against scolopendres, beare-wormes, sea scorpions and serpents. It is applied with salt to the bitings of mad dogs.”

MISTLETOE.—According to Scandinavian mythology, Baldr (the Apollo of the North) was rendered by his mother Frîgg proof against all injury by the four elements, fire, air, earth, and water: Loki, the evil spirit, however, being at enmity with him, fashioned an arrow out of Mistletoe (which proceeded from neither of the elements), and placed it in the hand of Hödr, the blind deity, who launched the fatal dart at Baldr, and struck him to the earth. The gods decided to restore Baldr to life, and as a reparation for his injury, the Mistletoe was dedicated to his mother Frîgg; whilst, to prevent its being again used adversely to her, the plant was placed under her sole control so long as it did not touch the earth, the empire of Loki. On this account it has always been customary to suspend Mistletoe from ceilings; and so, whenever persons of opposite sexes pass under it, they give one another the kiss of peace and love, in the full assurance that this plant is no longer an instrument of mischief.——Like the Indian Asvattha, and the Northern Rowan, the Mistletoe was supposed to be the embodiment of lightning: hence its Swiss name, Donnerbesen; and like them, again, it is very generally believed to spring from seed deposited by birds on trees. Some naturalists, indeed, say that the seeds will not vegetate until they have passed through the stomach of a bird, and so recommend that fowls should be caused to eat the seeds, which, after evacuation, should be sown. This old belief in the Mistletoe-seed being sown by birds is referred to by Lord Bacon in his ‘Natural History.’ His lordship says:—“They have an idle tradition that there is a bird called a Missel-bird that feedeth upon a seed which many times she cannot digest, and so expelleth it whole with her excrement, which, falling upon a bough of a tree that hath some rift, putteth forth the Misseltoe.”——In Druidic times, the Mistletoe was regarded as a divine gift of peculiar sanctity, only to be gathered with befitting ceremonies, on the sixth day, or at latest on the sixth night, of the sixth moon after the winter solstice, when their year commenced.——Pliny tells us that “the Druids hold nothing more sacred than the Mistletoe and the tree upon which it is produced, provided it be an Oak. They make choice of groves of Oak on their own account, nor do they perform any of their sacred rites without the leaves of these trees, so one may suppose that for this reason they are called by the Greek etymology Druids, and whatever Mistletoe grows upon the Oak they think is sent from heaven, and is a sign of God Himself as having chosen that tree. This, however, is rarely found, but, when discovered, is treated with great ceremony; they call it by a name which in their language signifies the curer of all ills, and, having duly prepared their feast and sacrifices under the tree, they bring to it two white bulls, whose horns are then for the first time tied; the priest, dressed in a white robe, ascends the tree, and, with a golden pruning-hook, cuts off the Mistletoe, which is received into a white sagum, or sheet; then they sacrifice the victims, praying that God would bless His own gift to those on whom He has bestowed it.” As the Druids attributed to the Mistletoe marvellous curative properties, they placed it in water, and distributed this water to those who deserved it, to act as a charm against the spells of witches and sorcerers. If any portion of this plant came in contact with the earth, it was considered as ominous of some impending national disaster.——The practice of decorating dwellings with Mistletoe and Holly is undoubtedly of Druidic origin. Dr. Chandler states that, in the times of the Druids, the houses were decked with boughs in order that the spirits of the forest might seek shelter among them during the bleak winds and frosts of winter.——Among the Worcestershire farmers, there is a very ancient custom of taking a bough of Mistletoe, and presenting it to the cow that first calved after New Year’s Day, as this offering is presumed to avert ill-luck from the dairy.——In some provinces of France, they preserved for a long period the custom of gathering the Mistletoe of the Oak, which they regarded as a talisman. Many public documents attest that, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, large gatherings of the country-people took place at the fêtes held in commemoration of the ceremony of the sacred Mistletoe, and which was called Auguilanneuf (Gui de l’an neuf).——In Holstein, the peasantry call the Mistletoe the “Spectre’s wand,” from the supposition that a branch borne in the hand will enable the holder not only to see ghosts, but to compel them to speak.——The magical properties of the Mistletoe are alluded to by Virgil in his Æneid, as well as by Ovid and other ancient writers. Albertus Magnus states that the Mistletoe, which the Chaldæans called Luperax, the Greeks Esifena, and the Latins Viscus Querci, like the herb Martagon (Moonwort), possessed the property of opening all locks. The Druids called it All-heal, and represented it as an antidote to all poisons, and a cure for all diseases. When there were no longer any Druids in England left to gather the holy plant with the customary sacred rites, it was gathered by the people themselves, with a lack of due solemnity, so that, according to Aubrey, this want of reverence met with miraculous punishment. He relates how some ill-advised folk cut the Mistletoe from an Oak, at Norwood, to sell to the London apothecaries: “And one fell lame shortly after; soon after each of the others lost an eye; and a rash fellow, who ventured to fell the Oak itself, broke his leg very shortly afterwards.” At this time, the powder of an Oak-Mistletoe was deemed an infallible cure for epilepsy; and Culpeper, the astrological herbalist, prescribed the leaves and berries of this precious plant, given in powder for forty days together, as a sure panacea for apoplexy, palsy, and falling sickness. Clusius affirmed that a sprig of the sacred plant worn round the neck was a talisman against witchcraft, always providing that the bough had not been allowed to touch earth after being gathered.——In the West of England, there is a tradition that the Cross was made of Mistletoe, which, until the time of the Crucifixion, had been a noble forest tree, but was thenceforth condemned to exist only as a mere parasite. Culpeper remarks that it was sometimes called lignum sanctæ crucis—wood of the holy cross—from a belief in its curative virtues in cases of consumption, apoplexy, and palsy—“not only to be inwardly taken, but to be hung at their neck.”——In Sweden, Oak-Mistletoe is suspended in the house to protect it from fire and other injuries; a knife with an Oak-Mistletoe handle is supposed by the Swedes to ward off the falling sickness: for other complaints, a piece of this plant is hung round the patient’s neck, or made into a finger-ring.

MOLY.—The Moly was a magical plant, beneficent in its nature, which Homer tells us, in the ‘Odyssey,’ was given by Mercury to Ulysses to enable him successfully to withstand and overcome the enchantments of the sorceress Circe, and obtain the restoration of his comrades whom the witch-goddess had by her enchantments transformed into swine. Ulysses, distressed at the fate of his companions, was visited by Mercury, who promised to give him a plant of extraordinary powers, which should baffle the spells of Circe;

“Thus while he spoke, the sovereign plant he drew
Where on th’ all-bearing earth unmark’d it grew,
And show’d its nature and its wondrous power:
Black was the root, but milky white the flower;
Moly the name, to mortals hard to find,
But all is easy to th’ ethereal kind.”—Pope.

The Moly is generally supposed to have been a species of Garlick (a plant credited with many magical qualities), and Gerarde, in his ‘Herbal,’ describes several plants under the head of “Moly, or Sorcerer’s Garlick,” one of which he particularises as Homer’s Moly (Moly Homericum). The identity of the plant has, however, long been a matter for speculation among botanists of all ages. Dodonæus, Anguillara, and Cæsalpinus consider it to be Allium magicum; Matthiolus and Clusius, Allium subhirsutum; Sprengel, Allium nigrum; and Sibthorp, a plant which he names Allium Dioscoridis. Various treatises have appeared on the subject, in one of which the Moly is thought to be identified with the Lotus. Milton, in his ‘Comus,’ mentions a magical plant, designated Hæmony, which possessed similar properties to the Moly, and was potent in dispelling enchantments, ghostly apparations, mildew-blast, and unwholesome vapours.

Money Flower.—See Honesty.

MONK’S HOOD.—Aconitum has two English names, Monk’s Hood and Wolf’s Bane. The former has been given it from the resemblance of the plant’s upper sepal to the cowl of a monk. The latter is of great antiquity, being the same as that of the Anglo-Saxon. By the ancients (who were unacquainted with mineral poisons) the Aconite was regarded as the most virulent of all poisons, and their mythologists declare it to be the invention of Hecate, who caused the plant to spring from the foam of the many-headed Cerberus, when Hercules dragged him from the gloomy regions of Pluto. The legend is thus told by Ovid:—

“Medea, to dispatch a dang’rous heir,
(She knew him) did a pois’nous draught prepare,
Drawn from a drug, long while reserved in store,
For desp’rate uses, from the Scythian shore,
That from the Echydnæan monster’s jaws
Derived its origin, and this the cause.
Through a dark cave a craggy passage lies
To ours ascending from the nether skies,
Through which, by strength of hand, Alcides drew
Chained Cerberus, who lagged and restive grew,
With his bleared eyes our brighter day to view.
Thrice he repeated his enormous yell,
With which he scares the ghosts, and startles hell;
At last outrageous (though compelled to yield),
He sheds his foam in fury on the field;
Which, with its own and rankness of the ground,
Produced a weed by sorcerers renowned
The strongest constitution to confound—
Called Aconite, because it can unlock
All bars, and force its passage through a rock.”

With this venomous plant the ancients were wont to poison their arrow-heads when engaged in war and also when in pursuit of wild beasts. As a poison, it had a sinister reputation. Ovid was of opinion that the Aconitum derived its name from growing on rocks almost barren; and he describes, in his ‘Iron Age,’ the step-dame occupied in preparing a deadly potion of this plant:—

> “Lurida terribiles miscent Aconita novercæ.”

In Greece, the Wolf’s Bane is credited with many malignant influences, and the fevers so common in the neighbourhood of Corinth were attributed to it. Until the Turks were dispossessed, the Aga proceeded every year in solemn procession to denounce it and hand it over to destruction.——In North India, a species, Aconitum ferox, is used as a poison for arrows—the poison which is obtained from the roots being of remarkable virulence and activity when infused into the blood.

MOON DAISY.—The Chrysanthemum Leucanthemum, a large Daisy-like flower, resembles the pictures of a full moon, and on this account has acquired the name of Moon Daisy. From its use in uterine diseases, this plant was dedicated by the ancients to Artemis, goddess of the Moon, Juno Lucina, and Eileithuia, a deity who had special charge over the functions of women—an office afterwards assigned by the Romish Church to St. Mary Magdalene and St. Margaret. Hence, in the Middle Ages, the Moon Daisy became known as Maudelyne or Maudlin-wort.——The plant is also called the Ox-eye and Midsummer Daisy; and in France, this flower, known as the Paquerette, is employed, like the Bluet, as a divining-flower, to discover the state of a lover’s affections.——The Midsummer Daisy is dedicated to St. John the Baptist.

MOONWORT.—The Fern Botrychium Lunaria has derived its name of Moonwort from the crescent shape of the segments of its frond. Perhaps it is this lunar form which has caused it to be so highly esteemed for its supposed magical properties. The old alchymists professed to be able, by means of the Moonwort, which they called Lunaria minor, or Lesser Lunary, to extract sterling silver from Mercury. By wizards and professors of necromancy no plant was held in greater repute, and its potency is attested by many old writers. Gerarde refers to the use made by the alchymists of this Fern in those mystic compounds over which they pored night and day, and he also states that it was a plant prized by witches, who called it Martagon. In Ben Jonson’s ‘Masque of Queens,’ a witch says to her companions:—

“And I ha’ been plucking plants among
Hemlock, Henbane, Adder’s-tongue;
Nightshade, Moonwort, Libbard’s-bane,
And twice by the dogs was like to be ta’en.”

Coles, referring to the mystical character of the Moonwort, observes: “It is said, yea, and believed by many, that Moonwort will open the locks, fetters, and shoes from those horses’ feet that goe on the places where it groweth; and of this opinion was Master Culpeper, who, though he railed against superstition in others, yet had enough of it himselfe.” Du Bartas, in his ‘Divine Weekes,’ thus refers to this superstition—

“Horses that, feeding on the grassie hills,
Tread upon Moonwort with their hollow heels,
Though lately shod, at night goe barefoot home,
Their maister musing where their shooes become.
O Moonwort! tell us where thou hidst the smith,
Hammer and pincers, thou unshodd’st them with.
Alas! what lock or iron engine is’t
That can thy subtill secret strength resist,
Sith the best farrier cannot set a shoe
So sure, but thou (so shortly) canst undo?”

Culpeper tell us that the Moonwort was a herb which, in his days, was popularly believed to open locks and unshoe horses that trod on it. “This,” he adds, “some laugh to scorn, and those no small fools neither, but country people that I know call it Unshoe-the-Horse. Besides, I have heard commanders say that on White Down, in Devonshire, near Tiverton, there were found thirty horse-shoes, pulled off from the Earl of Essex’s horses, being there drawn up in a body, many of them being newly shod, and no reason known, which caused much admiration; and the herb described usually grows upon the heaths.”—In Virginia, the Botrychium Lunaria is called the Rattle-snake Fern, because that reptile shelters itself beneath its fronds.

MOSS.—The Sifjar haddr, or Hair Moss (Polytrichum commune), which supplies the Lapp with bedding, is dedicated to Sif, the wife of Thor. The Supercilium Veneris is Freyja’s hair.—The good fairies called by the Germans Moosweibchen are represented as being entirely covered with Moss. They live in the hollows of forest trees, or on the soft Moss itself. These beneficent fairies of the forest spin soft Moss of various kinds, which they weave into beautiful fabrics, and, according to their custom, occasionally make handsome presents to their protégés.——There is a legend that Oswald, King of Northumbria, erected a certain cross, which, after his decease, acquired miraculous properties. One day, a man who was walking across the ice towards this venerated cross, suddenly fell and broke his arm; a friend who was accompanying him, in dire distress at the mishap, hurried to the cross, and plucked from it some Moss, which was growing on the surface. Then, hastening back to his friend, he placed the Moss in his breast, when the pain miraculously ceased, and the broken arm became set, and was soon restored to use.——The Bryum Moss, which grows all over the walls of Jerusalem, is supposed to be the plant referred to by Solomon as “the Hyssop that groweth out of the wall.”——According to tradition, headache is to be removed by means of snuff made from the Moss which grows on a human skull in a churchyard; and Gerarde says that this Moss is “a singular remedie against the falling evill and the chin-cough in children, if it be powdered, and then given in sweet wine for certain daies together.” Robert Turner tells us of this Moss that it is “a principal ingredient in the Weapon Salve; but the receipt is, it should be taken from the skull of one who died a violent death.”——The dust from the spore cases of Club-Moss is highly inflammable, and is used in fireworks; it is the Blitz-mehl, or lightning-meal, of the Germans. (See Club-Moss.)

MOSS ROSE.—The country of the Moss Rose or Moss Provins Rose (Rosa Muscosa) is unknown, but the origin of its mossy vest is thus given by a German writer:—

“The angel of the flowers one day
Beneath a Rose-tree sleeping lay;
That spirit to whose charge is given
To bathe young buds in dews from heaven;
Awaking from his light repose,
The angel whispered to the Rose;
‘O fondest object of my care,
Still fairest found where all are fair,
For the sweet shade thou’st given to me
Ask what thou wilt, ’tis granted thee.’
‘Then’ said the Rose, with deepened glow,
‘On me another grace bestow:’
The spirit paused in silent thought
What grace was there that flower had not?
’Twas but a moment: o’er the Rose
A veil of Moss the angel throws,
And robed in Nature’s simplest weed,
Could then a flower that Rose exceed?”

The Moss Rose is one of the flowers specially plucked at the fall of the dew on Midsummer Eve for the purposes of love divination. This rite of rustic maidens is fully described in the poem of ‘The Cottage Girl’:—

“The Moss Rose that, at fall of dew,
Ere eve its duskier curtain drew,
Was freshly gathered from its stem,
She values as the ruby gem;
And, guarded from the piercing air,
With all an anxious lover’s care,
She bids it, for her shepherd’s sake,
Await the New Year’s frolic wake:
When, faded, in its altered hue
She reads—the rustic is untrue!
But if its leaves the crimson paint,
Her sick’ning hopes no longer faint;
The Rose upon her bosom worn,
She meets him at the peep of morn.”

MOTHERWORT.—According to Parkinson, the Motherwort (Leonurus Cardiaca) was so called from its being “of wonderful helpe to women in the risings of the mother;” its name of Cardiaca was given because the herb was formerly noted for curing not only heartburn but the mental disorder known as heart-ache.——In Japan, the Motherwort is in great estimation. In bygone times it is related that to the north of the province of Nanyo-no-rekken, there was a village situated near a hill covered with Motherwort. At the foot of the hill, fed by the dew and rains that trickled down its sides, ran a stream of pure water, which formed the ordinary beverage of the villagers, who generally lived till they had attained an age varying from a hundred to a hundred and thirty years. Thus the people ascribe to the Motherwort the property of prolonging life. At the Court of the Cairi, the ecclesiastical potentate of Japan, it is a favourite amusement to drink zakki, a kind of strong beer prepared from Motherwort-flowers. The Japanese have five grand festivals in the course of the year. The last, which takes place on the 9th of the 9th month, is called the Festival of Motherwort; and the month itself is named Kikousouki, or month of Motherwort-flowers. It was formerly the custom to gather these flowers as soon as they had opened, and to mix them with boiled rice, from which they prepared the zakki used in celebrating the festival. In the houses of the common people, instead of this beverage, you find a branch of the flowers fastened with a string to a pitcher full of common zakki, which implies that they wish one another a long life. The origin of this festival is as follows:—An emperor of China who succeeded to the throne at seven years of age, was disturbed by a prediction that he would die before he attained the age of fifteen. An immortal having brought to him, from Nanyo-no-rekken, a present of some Motherwort-flowers, he caused zakki to be made from them, which he drank every day, and lived upwards of seventy years. This immortal had been in his youth in the service of the Emperor, under the name of Zido. Being banished for some misdemeanour, he took up his residence in the valley before mentioned, drinking nothing but the water impregnated with these flowers, and lived to the age of three hundred years, whence he obtained the name of Sien-nin-foso.

MOUSE-EAR.—The plant now known as Forget-me-not, was formerly called Mouse-Ear, from its small, soft, oval leaves. It is called Herba Clavorum, because, according to tradition, it hinders the smith from hurting horses when he is shoeing them.

MULBERRY.—According to tradition, the fruit of the Mulberry-tree was originally white, but became empurpled by human blood. Referring to the introduction of the Mulberry by the Greeks, Rapin writes:—

“Hence Pyramus and Thisbe’s mingled blood
On Mulberries their purple dye bestowed.
In Babylon the tale was told to prove
The fatal error of forbidden love.”

This tale of forbidden love is narrated at length by Ovid: Pyramus, a youth of Babylon, and his neighbour, Thisbe, became mutually enamoured, but were prohibited by their parents from marrying; they therefore agreed to meet at the tomb of Ninus, under a white Mulberry-tree. Thisbe reached the trysting-place first, but was compelled to seek safety in a cave, owing to the arrival of a lioness, who besmeared with blood a veil which the virgin dropped in her flight. Soon afterwards Pyramus reached the spot, and finding the bloody veil, concluded that Thisbe had been torn to pieces. Overcome with grief, he stabbed himself with his sword; and Thisbe, shortly returning, and beholding her lover in his death throes, threw herself upon the fatal weapon. With her last breath she prayed that her ashes should be mingled with her lover’s in one urn, and that the fruit of the white Mulberry-tree, under which the tragedy occurred, should bear witness of their constancy by ever after assuming the colour of their blood.

“The prayer which dying Thisbe had preferred
Both gods and parents with compassion heard.
The whiteness of the Mulberry soon fled,
And ripening, saddened in a dusky red;
While both their parents their lost children mourn,
And mix their ashes in one golden urn.”—Eusden.

Lord Bacon tells us that in Calabria Manna falls upon the leaves of Mulberry-trees during the night, from whence it is afterwards collected.——Pliny called the Mulberry the wisest of trees, because it is late in unfolding its leaves, and thus escapes the dangerous frosts of early spring. To this day, in Gloucestershire, the country folks have a saying that after the Mulberry-tree has shown its green leaves there will be no more frost.——At Gioiosa, in Sicily, on the day of St. Nicholas that saint is believed to bless the sea and the land, and the populace sever a branch from a Mulberry-tree and preserve it for one year as a branch of good augury.——In Germany, at Iserlohn, the mothers, to deter the children from eating the Mulberries, sing to them that the Devil requires them for the purpose of blacking his boots.——According to Gerarde, “Hegesander, in Athenæus, affirmeth that the Mulberry-tree in his time did not bring forth fruit in twenty yeares together, and that so great a plague of the gout then raigned, and raged so generally, as not onely men, but boies, wenches, eunuches, and women were troubled with that disease.”——A Mulberry-tree, planted by Milton in the garden of Christ’s College, Cambridge, has been reverentially preserved by successive college gardeners. The Mulberry planted by Shakspeare in Stratford-on-Avon was recklessly cut down in 1759; but ten years later, when the freedom of the town was presented to Garrick, the document was enclosed in a casket made from the wood of the tree. A cup was also wrought from it, and at the Shakspeare Jubilee, Garrick, holding this cup aloft, sang the following lines composed by himself:—

“Behold this fair goblet, ’twas carved from the tree
Which, O my sweet Shakspeare, was planted by thee;
As a relic I kiss it, and bow at the shrine;
What comes from thy hand must be ever divine!
All shall yield to the Mulberry-tree;
Bend to the blest Mulberry;
Matchless was he who planted thee;
And thou, like him, immortal shall be.”

To dream of Mulberries is of good import: they denote marriage, many children, and all sorts of prosperity: they are particularly favourable to sailors and farmers.——Among the hill tribes of Burmah, the Mulberry-tree is regarded as sacred, and receives a kind of worship.——A Chinese folk-lore tale records that in the Tse dynasty, one Chang Ching, going out at night, saw a woman in the south corner of his house. She beckoned him to come to her, and said: “This is your honour’s Mulberry-ground, and I am a shên (fairy); if you will make next year, in the middle of the first moon, some thick congee and present it to me, I will engage to make your Mulberry-trees a hundred times more productive.” Ching made the congee, and afterwards had a great crop of silkworms. Hence came the Chinese custom of making thickened congee on the fifteenth of the first month.

MULLEIN.—The Mullein (Verbascum) was formerly employed by wizards and witches in their incantations. The plant is known as the Flannel-flower from its stem and large leaves being covered with wool, which is often plucked off for tinder. The Great Mullein (V. Thapsus) was called by the old Romans Candela regia, and Candelaria, because they used the stalks dipped in suet to burn at funerals, or as torches; the modern Romans call the plant Light of the Lord. In England, the White Mullein was termed Candle-week-flower; and the Great Mullein’s tall tapering spikes of yellow flowers suggested, at a period when candles were burnt in churches, the old names of Torches, Hedge-taper, High-taper, and Hig-taper, which became corrupted into Hag-taper, from a belief that witches employed the plant in working their spells.——The little Moth Mullein (V. Blattaria) derives its specific name from blatta, a cockroach, it being particularly disliked by that troublesome insect. Gerarde explains its English prefix by stating that moths and butterflies, and all other small flies and bats, resort to the place where these herbs are laid or strewed.——Mullein is known by country people as Bullock’s Lungwort, a decoction of the leaves being considered very efficacious in cases of cough: probably we are indebted to the Romans for this specific, for they attributed extraordinary properties to the Mullein as a remedy for coughs. (See also Hag-taper).

MUGWORT.—The old Latin name for this species of Wormwood was Artemisia, mater herbarum; and, according to Gerarde, the plant was so named after Artemisia, the wife of Mausolus, King of Caria, who adopted it for her own herb.

“That with the yellow crown, named from the queen
Who built the Mausoleum.”—Smith’s ‘Amarynthus.’

Other authorities say that Artemisia is derived from Artemis, one of the names of Diana, and that the plant was named after that goddess, on account of its being used in bringing on precocious puberty. Among the ancients, the Mugwort had a reputation for efficacy in the relief of female disorders. It was also used for the purpose of incantations. Pliny says that the wayfarer having this herb tied about him feels no fatigue, and that he who hath it about him can be hurt by no poisonous medicines, nor by any wild beast, nor even by the sun itself. Apuleius adds that it drives away lurking devils and neutralises the effect of the evil eye of men. The plant was also considered a charm against the ague.—T—here is an old Scotch legend which tells how a mermaid of the Firth of Clyde, upon seeing the funeral of a young girl who had died of consumption, exclaimed—

“If they wad drink Nettles in March,
And eat Muggins [Mugwort] in May,
Sae mony braw maidens
Wad not go to clay.”

In Italy, there is still a superstitious custom extant of consulting Mugwort as to the probable ending of an illness. Some leaves of Mugwort are placed beneath the pillow of the patient without his knowledge. If he falls asleep quickly, his recovery is certain: if he is unable to sleep, it is a sign that he will die.——Mugwort is one of the plants associated with St. John the Baptist, and is, indeed, called the Herb of St. John in Italy, Spain, Portugal, Germany, and Holland. There is a curious superstition regarding it which is related by Lupton in his ‘Notable Things.’ He says:—“It is certainly commonly affirmed that, on Midsummer Eve, there is found under the root of Mugwort a coal which keeps safe from the plague, carbuncle, lightning, and the quartan ague, them that bear the same about them: and Mizaldus, the writer hereof, saith that it is to be found the same day under the root of Plantain, which I know for a truth, for I have found them the same day under the root of Plantain, which is especially and chiefly to be found at noon.” Paul Barbette, writing in 1675, says, these coals were old dead roots, and that it was a superstition that “old dead roots ought to be pulled up on the Eve of St. John the Baptist, about twelve at night.”——In some parts of England, girls pull a certain root which grows under Mugwort, and which, they believe, if pulled exactly at midnight, on the eve of St. John, and placed under the pillow, will cause dreams of the future husband.——De Gubernatis tells us that, in Sicily, on the eve of the Ascension, the women of Avola form crosses of Mugwort, and place them on the roofs of their houses, believing that, during the night, Jesus Christ, as He re-ascends to heaven, will bless them. They preserve these crosses of Mugwort for a year. Placed in stables, they are believed to possess the power of taming unmanageable animals.——The same author gives the following legends:—In the district of Starodubsk, Russia, on the day of the Exaltation of the Cross, a young girl was searching for Mushrooms in a forest, when she saw a number of serpents curled up. She endeavoured to retrace her steps, but fell into a deep pit, which was the abode of the serpents. The pit was dark, but at the bottom she found a luminous stone; the serpents were hungry; the queen of the golden-horned serpents guided them to the luminous stone, and the serpents licked it, and satisfied their hunger; the young girl did the same, and remained in the pit until Spring. On the arrival of Spring, the serpents interlaced themselves in such a manner as to form a ladder on which the young girl ascended to the mouth of the pit. But in taking her leave of the queen of the serpents, she received, as a parting gift, the power of understanding the language of plants, and of knowing their medicinal properties, on the condition that she should never name the Mugwort, or Tchornobil (that which was black): if she pronounced that word, she would forget all that she had come to know. The damsel soon understood all that the plants talked about; but, one day, a man suddenly asked her, “What is the plant which grows in the fields by the side of the little footpaths?” Taken by surprise, the girl replied, Tchornobil; and, at the same moment, all her knowledge forsook her. From that time, it is said, the Mugwort obtained the additional name of Zabytko, or the Herb of Forgetfulness.——In Little Russia, Mugwort has obtained the name of Bech, which has a legendary etymology. The story goes, that the Devil had, one day, offended his brother, the Cossack Sabba, who took him and bound him, saying he should remain a prisoner until he did him some great service. Soon afterwards, a troop of Poles arrived in the neighbourhood, and began to make merry at a rustic feast, leaving their horses to graze. The Cossack Sabba wished to seize their horses, and promised the Devil his liberty if he would aid him to accomplish his object. The Devil despatched certain demons to the fields where the horses were feeding, who caused Mugwort to spring up. As the horses trotted away, the plant moaned “Bech, Bech”: and now, whenever a horse treads on the Mugwort, recollecting the horses of the Poles, the plant always moans, “Bech, Bech”; hence, the name which has been given to it in the Ukraine.——The Japanese manufactured a kind of tinder, called Moxa, from the dried leaves of Mugwort, and, according to Thunberg, twice in a year, men and women, young and old, rich and poor, were indiscriminately burnt with it, either to prevent disorders, or to cure rheumatism, &c.——Astrologers state that Mugwort is a herb of Venus.

MUSHROOM.—On account of their apparently spontaneous generation, Porphyrius calls Mushrooms sons of the gods.——In Indo-European mythology, the Sun-hero is represented as sometimes hiding under a Mushroom. He also appears as King of the Peas, and in a Russian legend, in this capacity, gives battle to the Mushroom tribes.——In Wales, the poisonous Mushroom is called Bwyd Ellyllon, or the meat of the goblins.——In many parts of England it is believed that the changes of the moon influence the growth of Mushrooms, and in Essex there is an old saying that

“When the moon is at the full,
Mushrooms you may freely pull;
But when the moon is on the wane,
Wait ere you think to pluck again.”

There is an old belief that Mushrooms which grow near iron, copper, or other metals, are poisonous; the same idea is found in the custom of putting a piece of metal in the water used for boiling Mushrooms, in order that it should attract and detach any poison from the Mushrooms, and thus render them innocuous.——Bacon characterises Mushrooms as “venereous meat,” but Gerarde remarks that “few of them are good to be eaten, and most of them do suffocate and strangle the eater. Therefore, I give my advice unto those that love such strange and new-fangled meates, to beware of licking honey among thornes, least the sweetnesse of the one do not countervaile the sharpnesse and pricking of the other.”——The Burman, if he comes across Mushrooms at the beginning of a journey, considers it as a most fortunate omen.——Dream oracles state that Mushrooms forbode fleeting happiness; and that to dream of gathering them indicates a lack of attachment on the part of lover or consort.

MUSTARD.—Among the Jews, “Small as a grain of Mustard-seed” was a common comparison; and our Saviour referred to it as being “the least of all seeds; but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof” (Matthew xiii., 31, 32). The Mustard-tree here alluded to is not, however, the English Mustard (Sinapis nigra), but a tree called by the Arabs Khardal (Salvadora Persica), a tree with numerous branches, among which birds may take shelter, while the seed is exceedingly small. In the north-west of India, this plant is known as Kharjal.——One of the Sanscrit names given to the Mustard-tree is the She-devil or Witch. By means of the seed the Hindus discover witches. During the night they light lamps and fill certain vessels with water, into which they gently drop Mustard-seed oil, pronouncing the while the name of every woman in the village. If, during this ceremony, as they pronounce the name of a woman, they notice the shadow of a female in the water, it is a sure sign that such woman is a witch.——In India, the Mustard-seed symbolises generation: thus, in the Hindu myth of the ‘Rose of Bakawali,’ the king of Ceylon destroys the temple in which the nymph Bakawali is incarcerated; having been condemned by Indra to remain there transformed into marble for the space of twelve years. A husbandman ploughs over the site of this temple, and sows a Mustard-seed. In course of time the Mustard ripens, is gathered, pressed, boiled, and the oil extracted. According to the custom of his class, the husbandman first tastes it, and then his wife: immediately she, who before had been childless, conceives, and nine months afterwards gives to the world a daughter (Bakawali), beauteous as a fairy.

MYROBALAN.—The Myrobalan Plum-tree produces a fruit similar to a Cherry, but containing only a juice of so disagreeable a flavour that the very birds refuse to feed upon it: the fruit, however, is much employed in Indian medicines. According to Hindu tradition, the wife of Somaçarman struck twice with a wand a Myrobalan-tree, whereupon the tree rose from the earth with her, and carrying her away, at last placed her on a golden hill in a golden town.

MYRRH.—Myrrh is an exudation from the tree Balsamodendron Myrrha; but the precious resin was held by the ancients to have been first produced by the tears of Myrrha, daughter of Cinyras, King of Cyprus, and mother of Adonis. Flying from the avenging sword of her father, for whom she had conceived an incestuous passion, the guilty Myrrha, after long and weary wanderings, reached the Arabian continent, and at length, in the Sabæan fields, overcome with fatigue and the misery of her situation, prayed with her dying breath to the gods to accept her penitence and to bestow upon her, as a punishment for her sin, a middle state “betwixt the realms above and those below.” “Some other form,” cries she, “to wretched Myrrha give, nor let her wholly die, nor wholly live.”

“The prayers of penitents are never vain;
At least she did her last request obtain.
For while she spake the ground began to rise
And gathered round her feet, her legs, and thighs;
Her toes in roots descend, and, spreading wide,
A firm foundation for the trunk provide:
Her solid bones convert to solid wood,
To pith her marrow, and to sap her blood:
Her arms are boughs, her fingers change their kind,
Her tender skin is hardened into rind.
And now the rising tree her womb invests,
Now, shooting upwards still, invades her breasts
And shades her neck; when, weary with delay,
She sunk her head within, and met it half the way.
And though with outward shape she lost her sense,
With bitter tears she wept her last offence;
And still she weeps, nor sheds her tears in vain,
For still the precious drops her name retain.”—Dryden.

Myrrh is one of the ingredients of the sacred ointment or oil of the Jews, with which were anointed the Tabernacle, the Ark, the altars, and the sacred vessels (Exodus xxx.) It was also used to consecrate Aaron and his sons. The purification of women, as ordained by the Jewish law, lasted one year; the first six months being accomplished with oil of Myrrh, and the rest with other sweet odours. After our Lord’s death, Nicodemus brought a mixture of Myrrh and Aloes, about an hundred pounds weight, that his body might be embalmed.——Myrrh formed part of the celebrated Kuphi of the Egyptians—a preparation used in fumigations and embalmings. At the fête of Isis, which was celebrated with great magnificence, they sacrificed an ox filled with Myrrh and other aromatics. This ancient people delighted in displays of perfumes: in a religious procession which took place under one of the Ptolemies, marched one hundred and twenty children, carrying incense, Myrrh, and Saffron in golden basins, followed by a number of camels bearing precious aromatics.——At Heliopolis, the city of the sun, where the great luminary was worshipped under the name of Re, incense was burnt to him thrice a day,—resin at his rising, Myrrh when in the meridian, and the compound called Kuphi at his setting. In the temples of Isis similar rites were observed. According to Herodotus, powdered Myrrh formed one of the principal ingredients inserted in the bodies of mummies.——The Persian kings usually wore on their heads crowns composed of Myrrh and Labyzus.——In mediæval times, it was customary for the king to make an oblation on Twelfth Day. In pursuance of this custom, we read that so late as 1762 George III. made the usual offering at the Chapel Royal, of gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh—the gifts of the Magi, offered to the infant Saviour at Bethlehem; the gold typifying king; Frankincense, God; and Myrrh, man.

MYRTLE.—The father, mother, and brothers of Myrene, a beautiful Grecian, were murdered by robbers, who despoiled their home, and carried Myrene away. She escaped, however, and on her return was made a priestess of Venus. On the occasion of a festival, she discovered one of the assassins of her family, who was seized, and disclosed the hiding-place of his confederates. Myrene’s lover promised that, if she would yield him her hand, he would bring the rest of the band to punishment. He was successful, and received his promised reward; but Venus, offended at being deprived of her favourite priestess, caused the bridegroom to expire suddenly, and changed the bride into the Myrtle, which she ordained, as a proof of her affection, should continue green and odoriferous throughout the year. The Myrtle became, therefore, an especial favourite with Venus. Reputed to possess the virtue not only of creating love, but of preserving it, it was, both by the Greeks and Romans, considered symbolic of love, and was appropriately consecrated to Venus, the goddess of love, around whose temples groves of Myrtle were planted. It was behind a Myrtle-bush in the island of Cythera, that Venus sought shelter when disturbed at her bath by a band of Satyrs; with Myrtle she caused Psyche to be chastised for daring to compare her charms with the heaven-born beauty of her mother-in-law; and with Myrtle the goddess selected to deck her lovely brows when Paris adjudged to her the golden Apple—the prize for supremacy of beauty: hence the shrub was deemed odious to Juno and Minerva. Because she presided over the Myrtle, Venus was worshipped under the name of Myrtea, and had a temple dedicated to her under that appellation at the foot of Mount Aventine. It is probable that the Myrtle was dedicated to Venus because of its fondness for the sea—from the foam of which the goddess sprang, and was wafted by the Zephyrs to the shore, where she was received by the Horæ, and crowned with Myrtle. Myrtle chaplets were worn by her attendants, the Graces, and by her votaries when sacrificing to her. During her festivals in April, married couples (her protégés) were decked with Myrtle wreaths. The Myrtle of which the nuptial crowns were composed was the Myrtus latifolia of Pliny, called by Cato Myrtus conjugula.——The Myrtle was adopted by Minerva and Mars; the priests of the latter deity being sometimes crowned with it. The plant was also associated with Hymen, the son of Venus, and the Muse Erato, whose chaplet was composed of Roses and Myrtle. It sometimes symbolised unchaste love. In the festivals of Myrrha, the incestuous mother of Adonis, the married women crowned themselves with Myrtle. Virgil represents the victims of love in the infernal regions hiding themselves behind bunches of Myrtle. At the festival of the Bona Dea at Rome, where all other flowers and shrubs might be used, Myrtle was forbidden to be placed on the altar, because it encouraged sensual gratification.——The Greeks were extremely partial to the Myrtle. At their most sacred festival, the Eleusinian mysteries, the initiates, as well as the high priest, who officiated at the altar of Ceres, were crowned with Myrtle. The Athenian magistrates wore chaplets of the fragrant shrub in token of their authority; and bloodless victors entwined Myrtle with their Laurel wreaths. When Aristogiton and Harmodius set forth to free their country from the tyranny of the Pisistratidæ, their swords were wreathed with Myrtle.——With the Romans, the Myrtle was a highly-esteemed plant, and invariably expressive of triumph and joy. It also symbolised festivity, and, when steeped in wine, was supposed to impart to it invigorating qualities. On the 1st of April, Roman ladies, after bathing beneath the Myrtle-trees, crowned themselves with the leaves, and proceeded to the shrine of Venus to offer sacrifice. The Roman bridegroom decked himself with Myrtle on his bridal day; and the hero wore it as a badge of victory, and sometimes interweaved it with Laurel in honour of Venus and Mars. When the Romans fought to guard the captured Sabine women, they wore chaplets of Myrtle on their heads, and, according to Pliny, after the combatants had at length become reconciled, they laid down their weapons under a Myrtle, and purified themselves with its boughs. The tree was sacred to the Sabine Mars Quirinus; and two Myrtles stood before his temple, as two Laurels stood before the temple of the Roman Mars, symbolising the union of the Roman and Sabine peoples.——The Romans crowned themselves with Myrtle after a victory, but only when blood had not been shed.——Pliny relates that Romulus planted in Rome two Myrtles, one of which became the favourite of the patricians, the other of the people. When the nobles won, the people’s Myrtle drooped; when, on the other hand, the people were victorious, the patricians’ Myrtle withered. As a charm to ensure a successful journey, Roman pedestrians were accustomed to procure and wear a Myrtle wreath.——At Temnos, in Asia Minor, there is a statue in Myrtle-wood consecrated by Pelops to Venus, as a thank-offering for his marriage with Hippodamia. After the death of Hippolytus, Phædra, maddened with passionate grief, pricked innumerable small holes in the leaves of a Myrtle with a hair-pin. The geographer Pausanias states that this Myrtle was in his time to be seen near the tomb of Phædra at Trœzen.——The same writer relates that a Myrtle which had been the hiding place of a hare was selected by Diana to mark the site of a new city.——With the Jews, the Myrtle is a symbol of peace, and is often so referred to in the Old Testament, notably by Nehemiah and the prophets Zechariah and Isaiah. A variety, called the Broad-leaved Jew’s Myrtle, is held in especial veneration, and is frequently used in Hebrew religious ceremonies. Branches of this and other Evergreens are used in the erection of their tents at the Feast of Tabernacles. At Aleppo, these tabernacles are made by fastening to the corner of a wooden divan four slender posts as supports to a diaper-work of green Reeds on all sides, leaving only a space in front for the entrance, which on the outside is covered with fresh Myrtle. Jewish maidens were wont to be decked with a bridal wreath of Myrtle; but this wreath was never worn by a widow, or by divorced women. This custom is still retained in Germany, where the bride is adorned with a Myrtle wreath.——The Oriental nations are extremely partial to the Myrtle, and there is a tradition among the Arabs that, when Adam was expelled from Paradise, he brought the Myrtle with him, as being the choicest of fragrant flowers.——It is a popular belief in Somersetshire, that, in order to ensure its taking root, it is necessary when planting a sprig of Myrtle, to spread the skirt of your garment, and to look proud. In the same county, there is a saying that “the flowering Myrtle is the luckiest plant to have in your window, water it every morning, and be proud of it.”——In Greece, there is a superstitious notion that no one should pass near an odoriferous Myrtle without gathering a perfumed bunch; indifference to the attractions of Myrtle being considered a sign of impotence and death.——In the allegories of Azz Eddin, the Rose says that the Myrtle is the prince of odoriferous plants.——Rapin calls the Myrtle “of celestial race,” and in his poem has the following lines on it:—

“When once, as Fame reports, the Queen of Love
In Ida’s valley raised a Myrtle grove,
Young wanton Cupids danced a summer’s night
Round the sweet place by Cynthia’s silver light.
Venus this charming green alone prefers,
And this of all the verdant kind is hers:
Hence the bride’s brow with Myrtle wreaths is graced,
When the long-wished-for night is come at last;
And Juno (queen of nuptial mysteries)
Makes all her torches of these fragrant trees.
Hence in Elysian fields are Myrtles said
To favour lovers with their friendly shade,
There Phædra, Procris (ancient poets feign),
And Eriphyle still of love complain,
Whose unextinguished flames e’en after death remain.
Nor is this all the honour Myrtles claim:
When from the Sabine war Tudertus came,
He wreathed his temples from the Myrtle grove,
Sacred to Triumph as before to Love.”

To dream of seeing a fine Myrtle portends many lovers and a legacy. If a married person dreams of Myrtle, it prognosticates a second marriage. A similar dream for the second time portends a second marriage to a person who has also been married before. Myrtle seen in a dream denotes, as a rule, a numerous family, wealth, and old age.

NARCISSUS.—The white, or Poet’s, Narcissus owes its origin to a beautiful youth of Bœotia, of whom it had been foretold he should live happily until he beheld his own face. Caressed and petted by the Nymphs, and passionately loved by the unhappy Echo, he slighted and rejected their advances; but one day, when heated by the chase, he stopped to quench his thirst in a stream, and in so doing beheld the reflection of his own lovely features. Enamoured instantly of his own beauty, he became spell-bound to the spot, where he pined to death. Ovid relates how the flower known by his name sprang from the corpse of Narcissus:—

“As wax dissolves, as ice begins to run,
And trickle into drops before the sun,
So melts the youth, and languishes away;
His beauty withers, and his limbs decay;
And none of those attractive charms remain,
To which the slighted Echo sued in vain.
She saw him in his present misery,
Whom, spite of all her wrongs, she grieved to see;
She answered sadly to the lover’s moan,
Sighed back his sighs, and groaned to every groan.
‘Ah, youth belov’d in vain!’ Narcissus cries;
‘Ah, youth beloved in vain!’ the Nymph replies.
‘Farewell!’ says he;—the parting sound scarce fell
From his faint lips but she replied, ‘Farewell!’
Then on th’ unwholesome earth he gasping lies,
Till death shuts up those self-admiring eyes.
To the cold shades his flitting ghost retires,
And in the Stygian waves itself admires.
For him the Naiads and the Dryads mourn,
Whom the sad Echo answers in her turn.
And now the sister-nymphs prepare his urn;
When, looking for his corpse, they only found
A rising stalk, with yellow blossoms crown’d.”—Addison.

The cup in the centre of the flower is fabled to contain the tears of Narcissus. Virgil alludes to this (Georgic IV.) when, in speaking of the occupations of bees, he says: “Some place within the house the tears of Narcissus.” Milton also refers to this fancy in the following lines, when introducing the Narcissus under its old English name of Daffodil:—

“Bid Amaranthus all his beauty shed,
And Daffodillies fill their cups with tears,
To strew the laureat hearse where Lycid lies.”

The Daffodil is supposed to be one of the flowers which Proserpine was gathering when she was seized and carried off by Pluto (Dis). The Earth, at the instigation of Jupiter, had brought forth the lovely blossom for a lure to the unsuspecting maid. An old Greek hymn contains the tale:—

“In Sicilia’s ever-blooming shade,
When playful Proserpine from Ceres strayed,
Led with unwary step, the virgin train
O’er Ætna’s steeps and Enna’s flow’ry plain
Pluck’d with fair hand the silver-blossom’d bower,
And purpled mead,—herself a fairer flower;
Sudden, unseen, amidst the twilight glade,
Rushed gloomy Dis, and seized the trembling maid.”

Shakspeare, in ‘A Winter’s Tale,’ alludes to the same story:—

“O Proserpina,
For the flowers now that, frightened, thou let’st fall,
From Dis’s waggon! Daffodils
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty.”

Other accounts of a similar legend, slightly varied, state that it was at the instigation of Venus that Pluto employed the Narcissus to entice Proserpine to the lower world.——Ancient writers referred to the Narcissus as the flower of deceit, on account of its narcotic properties; for although, as Homer assures us, it delights heaven and earth by its odour and beauty, yet, at the same time, it produces stupor, madness, and even death.——It was consecrated both to Ceres and Proserpine, on which account Sophocles poetically alludes to it as the garland of the great goddesses. “And ever, day by day, the Narcissus, with its beauteous clusters, the ancient coronet of the ‘mighty goddesses,’ bursts into bloom by heaven’s dew” (Œdipus Coloneus).——The Fates wore wreaths of the Narcissus, and the Greeks twined the white stars of the odorous blossoms among the tangled locks of the Eumenides. A crown composed of these flowers was wont to be woven in honour of the infernal gods, and placed upon the heads of the dead.——The Narcissus is essentially the flower of Lent; but when mixed with the Yew, which is symbolical of the Resurrection, it becomes a suitable decoration for Easter:—

“See that there be stores of Lilies,
Called by shepherds Daffodillies.”—Drayton.

Herrick, Shakspeare, Milton, Wordsworth, all sing the praises of the Narcissus, or Lent Lily, the Daffodil and Daffadowndily of our forefathers,—names which they formed from the still older one of Affodilly, a corruption of Asphodelus.

NASTURTIUM.—According to Rapin, the Nasturtium was once a young Trojan huntsman; but the Jesuit poet gives no details of the metamorphosis, merely stating that

“Shield-like Nasturtium, too, confusedly spread,
With intermingling Trefoil fills each bed—
Once graceful youths; this last a Grecian swain,
The first an huntsman on the Trojan plain.”

The shield-like form of the Nasturtium’s leaves and its curiously-shaped flowers, which resemble golden helmets, have obtained for the plant the Latin name of “Tropæolum” (trophy). Its old English names were Yellow Lark’s-heels and Indian Cress.——The seed of the Nasturtium, according to Macer Floridus, possess a great power to repel serpents.——Linnæus has recorded that his daughter Elizabeth Christina observed the flowers of the Nasturtium emit spontaneously, at certain intervals, sparks like electric ones, visible only in the evening.

NEEM.—The Neem-tree (Azardirachta Indica) is considered by the Indians a sacred tree, and is described by their poets as the type of everything bitter. Its bark is used as a substitute for Cinchona in cases of fevers.

NELUMBO.—The Nelumbo, Sacred Lotus, or Padma (Nelumbium speciosum), was the Sacred Bean of Egypt, the Rose Lily of the Nile spoken of by Herodotus. The beauty of its blossoms, which are sometimes of a brilliant red colour, but rarely white, hanging over broad peltated leaves considerably above the surface of the water, render this the most lovely and graceful of all the Water Lilies; and at the same time it is the most interesting on account of its remote historical associations. Four thousand years ago the Nelumbo was the emblem of sanctity in Egypt amongst the priests of a religion long since defunct; and the plant itself has long been extinct in that country, though in India and China the flowers are held especially sacred, and the plant is commonly cultivated. The Chinese call this sacred flower the Lien-wha, and prize it above all others. Celebrated for its beauty by their poets, and ranked for its virtues among the plants which, according to Chinese theology, enter into the beverage of immortality, this Lien-wha is to the Chinese what the Gul or Rose is to the Persians; and a moonlight excursion on a tranquil river covered with its yellow blossoms is numbered by the inhabitants of the Flowery Land among the supreme delights of mortal existence. (See also Lotus and Nymphæa).

NETTLE.—The Nettle is one of the five plants which are stated by the Mishna to be the “bitter herbs” ordered to be partaken of by the Jews at the Feast of the Passover.——In Ireland, the Nettle of Timor is known as Daoun Setan, or the Devil’s Apron; and in the southern parts of the island it is a common practice for schoolboys, once a year, to consider themselves privileged to run wildly about with a bunch of Nettles, striking at the face and hands of their companions or of such other persons as they fancy they may venture to assault with impunity.——The Roman Nettle (Urtica pilulifera) is the most venomous of British Nettles, and is found abundantly about Romney, in Kent, where, according to Camden, the Roman soldiers brought the seed with them, and sowed it for their own use, to rub and chafe their limbs when, through extreme cold, they should be stiff and benumbed; having been told before they came from home that the climate of England was so cold that it was not to be endured without having recourse to some friction to warm their blood and to stir up natural heat.——Among the various remedies once prescribed for the “trembling fever,” or ague, by Catherine Oswald, a noted herbalist, was one which related to plucking up a Nettle by the root three successive mornings before sunrise. In bygone times, Nettle and Milfoil carried about the person used to be believed to drive away fear, and to be a certain charm against malignant spirits.——The Scotch say that to cure the sting of a Nettle, the person stung must rub the leaves of a Dock over the part affected, repeating at the same time: “Nettle in, Dock out; Dock rub Nettle out.” This charm was known to Chaucer, who uses it as a common saying, implying lovers’ inconstancy, in ‘Troilus and Cresside’:—

“But canst thou playen racket to and fro,
Nettle in, Dock out, now this, now that, Pandure?”

In German mythology, the Nettle was consecrated to the god Thor.——In the Tyrol, during thunderstorms, the mountaineers throw Nettles on the fire to avert danger, and more especially to guard themselves from lightning; this custom also prevails in some parts of Italy.——In Germany, there exists a superstition that Nettles gathered before sunrise will drive away evil spirits from cattle.——The god Thor was, among the ancient Germans, regarded as the guardian deity of marriage; hence it is, perhaps, that in Germany Nettle-seed is believed to excite the passions and to facilitate births.——In dream lore, to fancy you are stung by Nettles indicates vexation and disappointment; to dream of gathering Nettles denotes that someone has formed a favourable opinion of you; and if the dreamer be married, then that the domestic circle will be blessed with concord and harmony.——Astrologers place Nettles under the dominion of Mars.

NIGHTSHADE.—The Deadly Nightshade (Atropa Belladonna), or Death’s Herb, is a plant of ill omen, and one of which witches are reported to be fond: it is so poisonous in its nature, that Gerarde says: “If you will follow my counsell, deale not with the same in any case, and banish it from your gardens, and the use of it also, being a plant so furious and deadly; for it bringeth such as have eaten thereof into a dead sleepe, wherein many have died.” Buchanan relates that the Scots, under Macbeth, being desirous of poisoning the Danes, treacherously took the opportunity, during a period of truce, to mix the poisonous Nightshade with the beer with which they had agreed to supply them. Thus stupefied, Sweno’s army slept soundly, and the Scots, falling upon their enemies, destroyed them in their helplessness.——According to Gassendi, a shepherd in Provence produced visions and prophesied, through the use of Deadly Nightshade.——The Nightshade (Solanum Dulcamara) has poisonous red berries; but the root and leaves have been applied to several medicinal uses.——The Vale of Furness, Lancashire, is still known by the name of Valley of Nightshade, on account of the plant being exceedingly plentiful there. Sprigs of Nightshade appeared on the ancient seals of the Abbey.

NIMBU.—The Nimbu (Melia Azedarach) is a native of the warm parts of Asia, and bears a variety of names in different countries, such as the Holy Tree, Pride of India, Bead Tree (in allusion to the seeds being strung for chaplets), Persian Lilac, and Hill Margosa. Bishop Heber saw it in India, and states that the natives have a profound reverence for the tree, which they believe has the power to ward off witchcraft and the Evil Eye.

NIPA PALM.—The Nipa, or Susa (Nipa fruticans), is the sacred tree of Borneo, and is the most valuable of all growing things to the Dyaks of that country. The seeds, it is recorded, lie dormant in the fruit several years before germination, when the fruit becomes detached from the plant and is floated off by the tide to establish itself on some other mudbank. This plant only grows where fever and Mangroves flourish.

None-so-Pretty, or Nancy-Pretty.—See London Pride.

Nosebleed.—See Yarrow.

NUTMEGS.—In the Middle Ages, a curious belief existed that Nutmegs, Cloves, Cinnamon, and Ginger all grew on the same tree.——The strength of the Nutmeg in the season is said so to overcome the birds of Paradise, that they fall helplessly intoxicated.——To dream of Nutmegs is stated to be a sign of many impending changes.

NUTS.—When the Scandinavian god Loki, transformed into a falcon, rescued Idhunn, the goddess of youthful life, from the power of the Frost-giants, it was in the shape of a Hazel-nut that he carried her off in his beak.——The Hazel was sacred to Thor, and was in olden times regarded as an actual embodiment of lightning: hence it possessed great virtue as a promoter of fruitfulness, and Hazel-nuts became a favourite medium in divinations relating to love and marriage.——In old Rome, Nuts were scattered at marriages, as they are now in Italy and in Altmark.——In Westphalia and other parts of Germany, a few Nuts are mixed with the seed-corn to act as a charm in making it prolific.——In Hertfordshire and other parts of England, as well as in Germany, a certain relation is believed to exist between the produce of the Hazel-bushes and the increase of the population; a good Nut year always bringing an abundance of babies. In Westphalia, the proverb runs, “Plenty of Nuts, plenty of babies.”——Brand says it is a custom in Iceland, when a maiden would know if her lover is faithful, to put three Nuts upon the bar of a grate, naming them after her lover and herself. If a Nut crack or jump, the lover will prove faithless; if it begin to blaze or burn, it is a sign of the fervour of his affection. If the Nuts named after the girl and her swain burn together, they will be married. This divination is still practised in Scotland on Hallowe’en, whose mysterious rites Burns has immortalised in his poem, containing these lines:—

“Some merry friendly countree folks
Together did convene
To burn their Nits and pu’ their stocks,
And haud their Hallowe’en,
Fu’ blithe that night.”

A similar custom has for years existed in Ireland; and Gray, long before Burns, had evidenced that the superstitions of Hallowe’en or Nutcrack Night (October 31st) were known and practised in England, as thus—

“Two Hazel-nuts I threw into the flame,
And to each Nut I gave a sweetheart’s name.
This with the loudest bounce me sore amazed,
That with a flame of brightest colour blazed.
As blazed the Nut, so may thy passion grow;
For ’twas thy Nut that did so brightly glow.”

In Bohemia, on Christmas Eve, girls fix coloured wax lights in the shells of the first parcel of Nuts they have opened that day, light them all at the same time, and set them floating in the water, after mentally giving to each the name of a wooer. He whose lighted bark first approaches the girl will be her future husband. If an unwelcome suitor seems likely to be first in, the girl endeavours to retard the shell by blowing against it, and by this means the favourite’s bark usually wins. Should, however, one of the lights be perchance blown out, it is accounted a portent of death.——The instrument used by the nutter in robbing the Hazel of its fruit seems to have been formerly regarded as opprobrious, and as suggestive of a thief: thus, in the ‘Merry Wives of Windsor,’ Nym says: “If you run the Nut-hook’s humour on me,” or, in other words, “If you call me a thief.” Again, in ‘Henry IV.,’ Part II., Doll Tearsheet cries out to the beadle: “Nut-hook, Nut-hook, you lie!”——In Sussex, there is a proverb current: “As black as the De’il’s nutting bag;” and it is held to be dangerous to go out nutting on Sunday, for fear of meeting the Evil One, who haunts the Nut-bushes, and sometimes appears to nutters in friendly guise, and holds down the branches for them to strip.——In bygone times, it was believed that a spirit of a weird and sinister character inhabited a Nut-grove.——There is a superstition that the ashes of the shells of Hazel-nuts have merely to be applied to the back of a child’s head to ensure the colour of the iris in the infant’s eyes turning from grey to black.——In Germany, Nuts are placed in tombs, as being emblematic of regeneration and immortality. Searchers in the old tombs of Wurtemburg sometimes found Pumpkins and Walnuts, but always a number of Nuts.——In some countries, Hazel-nuts are supposed to be endowed with the power of discovering or attracting wealth. Thus, in Russia, there is a belief that anyone carrying a Nut in his house will make money; and on this account many of the Russian peasantry invariably carry a double Nut in their purses. In fairy tales, we often find good fairies using Nuts as their carriages: as, in ‘Romeo and Juliet,’ Mercutio speaks of Queen Mab arriving in a Nut-shell.——There is a legend that St. Agatha every year crosses the sea from Catania to Gallipoli on a Nut-shell, which she employs as a boat.——Authorities on the subject say that to dream that you see Nut-trees, and that you crack and eat their fruit, signifies riches and content gained with toil and pain. Clusters of Nuts imply happiness and success: to dream of gathering Nuts is a bad omen; and to dream of finding Nuts that have been hid signifies the discovery of treasure.

NYMPHÆA.—The Nymphæa cœrulea is the Lily of the Nile, the Lotus of ancient Egypt; but not the Sacred Bean, which was the Nelumbium speciosum. (See Lotus and Nelumbo).——According to German tradition, the Undines often conceal themselves from mortal gaze under the form of Nymphæas.——This beautiful Water-lily was deemed by the Frisians to have a magical power. Dr. Halbertsma has stated that, when a boy, he remembers people were extremely careful in plucking and handling them; for if anyone fell with such a flower in his possession, he became immediately subject to fits.——The Wallachians have a superstition that every flower has a soul, and that the Water-lily is the sinless and scentless flower of the lake, which blossoms at the gates of Paradise to judge the rest, and that she will enquire strictly what they have done with their odours.

OAK.—Rapin tells us that among the ancients there were many conjectural reports as to the origin of the Oak, and the country which first knew the sacred tree: but the popular tradition which met with most credence, he considers, was as follows:—

“When Jupiter the world’s foundation laid,
Great earth-born giants heaven did invade;
And Jove himself—when these he did subdue—
His lightning on the factious brethren threw.
Tellus her sons’ misfortunes does deplore,
And while she cherishes the yet-warm gore
Of Rhœcus, from his monstrous body grows
A vaster trunk, and from his breast arose
A harden’d Oak; his shoulders are the same,
And Oak his high exalted head became.
His hundred arms, which lately through the air
Were spread, now to as many boughs repair.
A sevenfold bark his now stiff trunk does bind;
And where the giant stood a tree we find.
The earth to Jove straight consecrates this tree,
Appeasing so his injured deity.
Thus Oaks grew sacred, in whose shelter plac’d,
The first good men enjoy’d their Acorn feast.”

To do full justice to the legendary lore connected with the Oak, it would be necessary to devote a volume to the subject: the largest, strongest, and as some say, the most useful of the trees of Europe, it has been generally recognised as the king of the forest,

> “Lord of the woods, the long-surviving Oak.”

An emblem of majesty and strength, the Oak has been revered as a symbol of God by almost all the nations of heathendom, and by the Jewish patriarchs. It was underneath the Oaks of Mamre that Abraham dwelt a long time, and there he erected an altar to the Lord, and there he received the three angels. It was underneath an Oak that Jacob hid the idols of his children, for this tree was held sacred and inviolable (Gen. xxxv., 2–4). Under the “Oak of weeping,” the venerable Deborah, Rebekah’s nurse, was interred. The messenger of the Lord that appeared to Gideon sat beneath an Oak; and it was a branch of one of these trees that caught the flowing hair of Absalom, and so caused the death of King David’s beloved son. The Oaks of Bashan are several times mentioned in the Bible, and in the sacred volume we are informed that the Israelites worshipped and offered sacrifices beneath the shadow of Oaks which they considered as sacred (Hosea iv., 13; Ezekiel vi., 13; Isaiah i., 29).

The ancient Greeks attributed the deluge of Bœotia to the quarrels between Jupiter and Juno. After the rain had ceased and the water subsided, an oaken statue became visible, erected, it is supposed, as a symbol of the peace concluded between the king of the gods and his consort. The Oak was thought by the Greeks to have been the first tree that grew on the earth, and to have yielded for man Acorns and honey, to ensure nourishment and fecundity. They called it, indeed, the mother-tree, and they regarded it as a tree from which the human race had originally sprung—a belief, shared by the Romans, for we find Virgil speaking

“Of nymphs and fauns, and savage men, who took
Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn Oak.”

Acorns were the first food of man, and there is an old Greek proverb in which a man’s age and experience are expressed by saying that he had eaten of Jove’s Acorns. Some of the classic authors speak of the fatness of the earliest inhabitants of Greece and Southern Europe, who, living in the primeval forests, were supported almost wholly upon the fruit of the Oak; these primitive people were called Balanophagi (eaters of Acorns).

Homer mentions people entering into compacts under Oaks as places of security, for the tree was highly reverenced by the Greeks, and held a prominent place in their religious and other ceremonies. The Arcadians believed that by stirring with an Oak-branch the waters of a fountain near a temple of Jupiter, on Mount Lycius, rain could be caused to fall. The Fates and Hecate were crowned with Oak-leaves; and a chaplet of Oak adorned the brow of the Dodonæan Jove.

The Pelasgic oracle of Jupiter, or Zeus, at Dodona, was situated at the foot of Mount Tamarus, in a wood of Oaks, and the answers were given by an aged woman, called Pelias: and as pelias, in the Attic dialect, means dove, the fable arose that the doves prophesied in the Oak groves of Dodona. Respecting the origin of this oracle, Herodotus narrates that two priestesses of Egyptian Thebes were carried away by Phœnician merchants: one of these was conveyed to Libya, where she founded the oracle of Jupiter Ammon; the other to Greece. The latter remained in the Dodonæan wood, which was much frequented on account of the Acorns. There she had a temple built at the foot of an Oak in honour of Jupiter, whose priestess she had been in Thebes, and here afterwards the oracle was founded. This far-spreading speaking Oak was a lofty and beautiful tree, with evergreen leaves and sweet edible Acorns (the first sustenance of mankind). The Pelasgi regarded this tree as the tree of life. In it the god was supposed to reside, and the rustling of its leaves and the voices of birds showed his presence. When the questioners entered, the Oak rustled, and the Peliades said, “Thus speaks Zeus.” Incense was burned beneath the tree, and sacred doves continually inhabited it; and at its foot a cold spring gushed, as it were, from its roots, and from its murmur the inspired priestesses prophesied. The ship Argo having been built with the wood of trees felled in the Dodonæan grove, one of its beams was endowed with prophetic or oracular power, and counselled the hardy voyagers. Socrates swore by the Oak, the sacred tree of the oracles, and consequently the tree of knowledge.

The Romans regarded the Oak as sacred, and the chosen tree of Jupiter, who was sheltered by it at his birth. Thus Lucan mentions “Jove’s Dodonæan tree,” and Ovid, in alluding to the primitive food of man, speaks of Acorns dropping from the tree of Jove. The Oak, says Virgil, is

“Jove’s own tree
That holds the worlds in awful sovereignty.
* * * * * * * *
For length of ages lasts his happy reign,
And lives of mortal men contend in vain;
Full in the midst of his own strength he stands,
Stretching his brawny arms and leafy hands;
His shade protects the plains, his head the hills commands.”

We have seen how Acorns formed the earliest food of mankind, and in ancient Rome the substitution of Corn was attributed to the bounty of Ceres, who, through the instrumentality of Triptolemus, taught the inhabitants of the earth its use and cultivation.

“The Oak, whose Acorns were our food before
That Ceres’ seed of mortal man was known,
Which first Triptoleme taught how to be sown.”—Spenser.

To commemorate this gift, Oak was worn in the festivals in honour of Ceres, as also by the husbandmen in general at the commencement of harvest. In the Eleusinian mysteries, Oaken chaplets were worn.

“Then crowned with Oaken chaplets, marched the priest
Of Eleusinian Ceres, and with boughs
Of Oak were overshadowed in the feast
The teeming basket and the mystic vase.”—Tighe.

A Roman who saved the life of another was adjudged a crown of Oak-leaves: thus Lucan writes:—

“Straight Lælius from amidst the rest stood forth—
An old centurion, of distinguished worth;
The Oaken wreath his hardy temples wore,
Mark of a citizen preserved he bore.”

This civic crown of Oak conferred many notable tokens of honour upon its possessor, who was exempted from all civil burdens, and enjoyed many rights. At Roman weddings, boughs of Oak were carried during the ceremonies as emblems of fecundity.

“With boughs of Oak was graced the nuptial train;
And Hecate (whose triple form surveys
And guards from rapine the nocturnal path)
Entwined with boughs of Oak her spiral snakes.”—Tighe.

Like the Greeks and Romans, the Scandinavians, in their mythology, traced the origin of mankind from either the Ash or the Oak. By the Teutons and Celts the Oak was invested with a mystical sacred character, and it was connected with the worship of their god Teutates. Among the German people, who consecrated the Oak to the god Thunar, the cultus of the sacred tree lingered for a long time, even after Boniface, the apostle of the Germans, at Geismar, on the Weser, had caused the Oak consecrated to the god of thunder to be uprooted. After the establishment of Christianity, the Oak was long supposed to be the abiding-place of the terrible Northern god, and was, consequently, regarded with superstitious awe. Bishop Otho, of Bamberg, in the year 1128, found at Stettin pagan temples, situate near an Oak and a fountain, which had been objects of worship, and were still regarded with superstitious awe, as being consecrated to a god. As the good bishop could not induce the people to cut down these sacred Oaks, he persuaded them that they were inhabited by evil spirits and demons; and, in course of time, the people who before had prostrated themselves before the trees, shunned them in superstitious dread and terror.

The ancient Britons dedicated the Oak to Taranis, their god of thunder; and the Celts, under the form of an Oak, are by some authorities stated to have worshipped Baal, the god of fire. On the occasion of an auto-da-fé, we are told that fagots of “grey” Oak were always selected. The festival of Baal was kept at Yule (Christmas); and on the anniversary, the Druids are said to have ordained that every fire should be extinguished, and then re-lighted with the sacred fire, which, in their sacerdotal character, they always kept burning. In this rite, it is supposed, may be traced the origin of the Yule-log, the kindling of which, at Christmas-time, is still kept up in England, though in this country the log is often of Ash. Among the Germans, Czechs, Serbs, and Italians, however, the Yule-log is always of Oak.

The Mistletoe which grew on an Oak was regarded by the Druids as the most holy; it was beneath the shade of venerated Oaks that they performed their sacred rites; and when they offered up human sacrifices, the victims, in grim mockery, were crowned with Oak-leaves. The baskets in which they were immolated were composed of Oaken twigs, and the brands with which the sacrificial fires were kindled were cut from Oak-trees. The priests scattered branches of the Oak upon the altars, and after the sacrifice fresh Oak-leaves were cast upon the blood-stained stones.

Alluding to the human sacrifices which polluted the recesses of the Druidic groves of Oak, and caused them to be regarded with shuddering terror, Tighe says:—

“Such groves in night terrific wrapt the gods
Of Gaul, where fostering nymph dared never tread,
Nor sylvan deity; no bird here couched
Her wing; no beast here slumbered in his lair;
No zephyr woke the silence of the boughs;
Alone at eve the trembling Druid sought
The mystic oracle; alone entranced
Amid the sanctuary stood, whose foul
Expanse in horrors veiled a dreaded god.”

When an Oak died, the Druids stripped off its bark, and shaped it reverently into the form of a pillar, a pyramid, or a cross, and still continued to worship it as an emblem of their god. In Anglesea, the ancient Mona, are still dug up great trunks of Oak, relics of the Druids’ holy groves. The central Oak was the peculiar object of veneration. The poet relates how men of old,

“When through the woods the Northern blast
Howled harsh appeased with horrid cries and blood
The Scythian Taranis; or bowed around
The central Oak of Mona’s dismal shade.”

The Druids it is believed revered the form of the cross. It is stated to have been their custom to seek studiously for a large and handsome Oak-tree, growing up with two principal arms in the form of a cross beside the main stem. If the two horizontal arms were not sufficiently adapted to the figure, they fastened a crossbeam to it. Then they consecrated it by cutting upon the right branch the word Hesus, upon the middle stem Taranis, and upon the left branch Belenus, and over them the word Thau. The tree thus inscribed was deemed peculiarly sacred, and to it they directed their faces when offering prayer.

It was beneath the shade of the Oak that Druidic criminal trials were held—the judge and jury being seated under the branches, and the prisoner placed in a circle traced by the wand of the chief Druid. With the Saxons, the Oak retained its sacred character, and their national meetings were held beneath its shelter. It was below the Oaks of Dartmoor that they held their conference with the Britons, whose land they were invading.

In Great Britain, the Oak remained an object of veneration long after the establishment of Christianity. It was under an aged Oak that St. Brigid of Ireland established her retreat for holy women, whence called Kildara, or cell of the Oak. Here had been burning for many centuries the sacred fire of the Druids, but by the piety of St. Brigid the light of Christianity was henceforth to emit its flame from beneath

“The Oak of St. Bride, which demon nor Dane,
Nor Saxon, nor Dutchman could rend from her fane.”

Many of the Druidical sacred Oaks were utilised by the early preachers of the Christian faith, who from beneath their boughs preached the gospel of Christ to the pagan inhabitants. Hence these trees became noted throughout the country as Gospel Oaks, a name which still appertains to many ancient trees existing at the present time in England. It is right to say, however, that other authorities consider the origin of the name to have been the custom of reading the Gospel of the day at a certain tree, when the priest went round the fields to bless the crops.

The Sclavonians worshipped Oaks, which they enclosed in a consecrated court. This spot was the sanctuary of all the country, and had its priest, its festivals, and its sacrifices. The inner sanctuary, where grew the sacred Oak, was reserved especially for the priests, sacrificers, and people in danger of their life, who had sought of the priests an asylum. It is said that the ancient Russians, upon arriving at the Isle of St. George, offered up sacrifices beneath a great Oak, before which the people and priests chanted a Te Deum. After the ceremony, the priest distributed the branches of the Oak among the people.

It is curious to note how the old Grecian belief in the sacred and supernatural character of the Oak has lingered in Italy. Prof. de Gubernatis tells us that in the Campagna of Rome, about seventeen years ago, a young shepherdess, during a storm, sought shelter under an Oak, and prayed to the Madonna. Whilst she prayed, a gracious lady appeared before her, and, thanks to her intercession, no rain fell on the Oak, and the girl was enabled to reach home without being wetted by a single drop. Everyone saw it was a miracle; the curé examined her, and from his representations the young girl was received into a convent at Rome, where she probably is preparing herself for canonisation. Under similar circumstances, two centuries ago, a Tuscan shepherdess, Giovanna of Signa, was canonised. In the district of Signa, near Ginestra, the villagers still show a sacred Oak, which people kneel to and adore. The story runs that one day the shepherdess Giovanna, surprised by a storm, called around her the shepherds and their flocks, and stuck her shepherdess’s crook into the ground; when, wondrous to relate, at the same instant shot forth an Oak, which sheltered beneath its branches shepherds and sheep. No one was wetted by the rain. On account of this miracle, Giovanna was made a saint, and near the sacred Oak a little chapel was erected to the Virgin. Strange to say, the tree throws down anyone climbing into its branches to cut boughs; but people are permitted to pluck sprays, which are believed to guard themselves and their houses from the effects of storms, provided that the names of Jesus and Mary are invoked with certain ceremonies.

Among the Bolognese, who inhabit a district once occupied by the Celts, and consequently Druidic, the sacred character of Oak-trees was long acknowledged. In the fourteenth century, there stood in Bologna an ancient Oak, which was regarded with the greatest reverence, and beneath its boughs all important gatherings of the people took place. In their religious processions the children still carry garlands of the Oak and Olive. In the country districts, images of the Virgin are often suspended from Oak-trees, and these effigies are called after the trees, the little Madonnas of the Oak. A legend of Bologna relates that in a chapel an image of the Virgin had long been neglected, and overlooked, till, one day, a pious shepherd took it away, and placed it in the trunk of a Cork-tree (a species of Oak, the Quercus Suber). Henceforth he visited it daily, and to honour the Virgin played on the flute. The thief having been denounced, the shepherd was seized and condemned to death; but during the night, through the intervention of the Madonna, the statue and the shepherd both returned to their favourite tree, and notwithstanding subsequent efforts to remove them, they again took up their place beneath its boughs. Then the people recognised a miracle performed by the Virgin, and falling on their knees before the statue in the Oak, they asked pardon of the shepherd.

The time-honoured belief in the sacred and supernatural attributes of the Oak have doubtless caused it to be regarded, even at the present day, as a tree which would vicariously bear the diseases of men. Thus, in England, Cross Oaks, which were trees planted at the juncture of cross-roads, were formerly resorted to by people suffering from ague, for the purpose of transferring to them their malady: this they did by pegging a lock of their hair into one of the trees, and then, by a sudden wrench, transferring the lock from their heads to the Oak, and with the lock the ague.

In Germany, there still exists a custom of creeping through an Oak cleft to cure hernia and other disorders. There was, near Wittstock, in Altmark, a bushy Oak, the branches of which had grown together again at some distance from the stem, leaving open spaces between them. Whoever crept through these spaces was freed from his malady, whatever it might be, and many crutches lay about, which had been thrown away by visitors to the tree whose ailments had been cured. In Russia, a similar custom is extant, the favourite tree there being the Quercus Ilex.

A belief that Oak-trees were the homes of Dryads, Hamadryads, spirits, elves, and fairies has existed since the days of the ancient Greeks. Pindar speaks of a Hamadryad as “doomed to a term of existence coeval with the Oak.” Callimachus represents Melia “deeply sighing for her coeval Oak,” and tells us that

“The Dryads laugh when vernal showers return;
O’er Autumn’s fading leaves the Dryads mourn.”

Preston, in his translation of Apollonius, makes a Hamadryad plead in vain for her existence, threatened by the destruction of the Oak in which she dwelt:—

“As in the mountain, with repeated stroke,
The churlish fellow felled the stubborn Oak;
Impious, he scorned the Hamadryad’s prayer,
And smote the tree coeval with the fair.
With streaming tears she pleads a suppliant strain
To that unfeeling churl, but pleads in vain.
‘Oh, rustic, stay, nor wound the hallowed rind,
For ages with that stem I live entwined.’”

In Germany, the holes in the trunks of Oaks are thought to be utilised by the elves inhabiting the trees as means of entry and exit; in our own country, Oaks have always been reputed as the trees in whose boughs elves delighted to find shelter. The fairies, too, were fond of dancing around Oaks: thus Tighe, apostrophising the monarch of the forest, exclaims:—

“The fairies from their nightly haunt,
In copse, or dell, or round the trunk revered
Of Herne’s moon-silvered Oak, shall chase away
Each fog, each blight, and dedicate to peace
Thy classic shade.”

In these lines allusion is made to a famous tree in Windsor Forest, one of a long series of celebrated Oaks—“lusty trees,” which, as Robert Turner writes, England “did once so flourish with, that it was called Druina by some.” One of these, known as the Cadenham Oak, in the New Forest, is said, like the Glastonbury Thorn, to mark the birthday of our Lord by budding on Christmas Day. Another, renowned as the Royal Oak, is reverenced as having been the hiding-place of Charles II., after the battle of Worcester. In this tree, not far from Boscobel House, the king, and his companion, Col. Careless, or Carless, resorted when they thought it no longer safe to remain in the house—the family giving them victuals on a Nut-hook. From this tree Charles gathered some Acorns, and set them himself in St. James’s Park:—

“Blest Charles then to an Oak his safety owes;
The Royal Oak, which now in songs shall live,
Until it reach to heaven with its boughs—
Boughs that for loyalty shall garlands give.”

In many parts of England, Oak-branches are suspended over doorways, and gilded Oak-leaves and Oak-Apples are worn, on Royal Oak Day (May 29th), in celebration of King Charles’s restoration, and his preservation in the Boscobel Oak, which is still extant.

Seven Oaks have given a name to a village in Kent; and Dean Stanley has described a row of seven Oaks standing at a particular spot in Palestine to which the following curious legend is locally attached:—After Cain had murdered his brother, he was punished by being compelled to carry the dead body of Abel during the lengthened period of five hundred years, and then to bury it in this place. Upon doing so, he planted his staff to mark the grave, and out of this staff grew up the seven Oak trees.

The aged Oaks of Germany excited the wonder and respect of Tacitus, who, speaking of one of the giants of the Hercynian forest, exclaims: “Its majestic grandeur surpasses all belief; no axe has ever touched it; contemporary with the creation of the world, it is a symbol of immortality.” Sacred trees, or pillars formed of living trunks of trees, many of which were Oaks, were to be found in ancient Germany, called Irmenseule. The world-tree of Romowe, the ancient sacred centre of the Prussians, was an evergreen Oak. The Oak of St. Louis at Vincennes, and the Oak of the Partisans at St. Ouen, are trees regarded with reverence by the French.

Evelyn considers that the wood used for our Saviour’s cross was Oak; founding his belief on the statements made by divers learned men who had studied the subject, and “upon accurate examination of the many fragments pretended to be parcels of it.” The same author speaks of “the fatal præadmonition of Oaks bearing strange leaves”; and tells us that sleeping under Oak-trees will cure paralysis, and recover those whom the malign influence of the Walnut-tree has smitten. Paulus, a Danish physician, averred that one or two handfuls of small Oak-buttons mingled with Oats given to black horses will change them in a few days to a fine dapple-grey. Bacon says that there is an old tradition that if boughs of Oak be put into the earth, they will bring forth wild Vines; he also remarks that in his day country people had “a kind of prediction that if the Oake-apple, broken, be full of wormes, it is a signe of a pestilent yeare.” It is said that when the Oak comes out before the Ash, it is a sign that there will be fine weather in harvest. The Kentish people have a saying:—

“Oak, smoke;
Ash squash.”

and that if the Oak comes out before the Ash, the summer will be hot; but if after the Ash, that it will be wet. Authorities in dream lore state that it is a very favourable omen to dream of an Oak-tree: if covered with verdure, it signifies a long and happy life; if devoid of foliage or withered, it betokens poverty in old age; to see many young Oaks thriving foretells male children, who will reap distinction by bravery; Oaks bearing Acorns betoken great wealth; and a blasted Oak forebodes sudden death.

Astrologers state that the Oak-tree is under the dominion of Jupiter.

OATS.—Oats did not enjoy a good reputation among the ancient Romans, and Pliny writes of them:—Primum omnium frumenti vitium Avena est. In old English books, the Oat is called Haver or Hafer corn, and to this day in Wales it is still called Hever. In Scandinavian mythology, the “Hafer” of the evil genius Loki is synonymous with Oats of the Devil, a term originally applied to all herbs hurtful to cattle.——The Danes call the plant Polytrichum commune Loki’s Oats; and in the tradition that the diabolic God of the North is wont mischievously to sow weeds among the good seed is probably to be found the origin of the English saying, “He is sowing his wild Oats.”——In the Ukraine, there is a tradition that on one occasion the Devil besought the Almighty to make him a present. God responded: “What is there that I can give you? I cannot part with the Rye, or the Barley, or the Millet: I must give you the Oats.” The Devil, well pleased, withdrew, crying, “Hurrah! the Oats, the Oats, are mine!” Then God inquired of St. Peter and St. Paul: “What can I do, seeing that I have handed them over to him?” “Verily,” said Paul, “I will at once go and get them from him.” “How will you manage that?” “Leave that to me,” replied Paul. “Very well—go!” St. Paul passed the Devil, and hid himself beneath a bridge. Presently the Devil came along shouting “Oats! Oats!” St. Paul commenced to shriek. The Devil stopped short. “Why have you thus frightened me?” he asked. “God has given me a plant, and now you have made me quite forget its name.” “Was it Rye?” “No,” “Wheat?” “No.” “Could it have been the Sow-thistle?” “Ah! that was it, that was it!” exclaimed the Devil, and he ran off shouting, “Sow-thistle, Sow-thistle.”——The contortions of the Animal Oat (Avena sterilis) are very noticeable: the strong beards, after the seeds have fallen off, are so sensible of alteration in the atmosphere, that they maintain an apparently spontaneous motion, resembling that of some grotesque insect. In olden times, conjurors and wizards predicted events and told fortunes by means of the awns of these Oats, which they caused to wriggle about by holding them in a damp hand, or breathing upon them. In these jugglers’ hands the Wild Oat became a magical plant, figuring at their will as the leg of an enchanted spider, Egyptian fly, or some other wonderful insect.——To dream of a field of ripe Oats just ready for the sickle is a most favourable omen, under all circumstances.

Old Man.—See Southernwood.

OLEANDER.—The banks of the Meles, the rivulet sacred to Homer, are in some parts thickly set with Nerium Oleander, a plant which bears a funereal and sinister character, and in Italy is considered as ill-omened and as bringing disgrace and misfortune. In Tuscany and Sicily, it is customary to cover the dead with Oleander-blossoms, and in India chaplets of these flowers are placed on the brows of the departed: the blossoms are also in that country much used in the decoration of temples. The Hindus call the shrub the “Horse-killer,” from a notion that horses inadvertently eating of its foliage are killed by it. The Italians bestow a similar name on the plant—Ammazza l’Asino, Ass-bane. Gerarde remarks that the flowers and leaves prove fatal to many quadrupeds, and that sheep and goats drinking water wherein the leaves have fallen are sure to die. In England, the plant is known as the Rose Bay and Laurel Rose. In Tuscany, it is called Mazza di San Giuseppe (St. Joseph’s Staff), and there is a legend that this staff commenced to blossom directly St. Joseph took it in his hands.

OLIVE.—The legend runs, that in the days of Cecrops, king of Attica, the two rival deities, Neptune and Minerva, strove for the worship of the Athenians. Each claimed priority of right: Neptune, by a salt spring, which his trident had opened in the rock of the Acropolis; Minerva, by pointing to the Olive-tree, which at her command had sprung from the soil. The gods in council decided that the latter was the earlier, as well as the more useful, gift; and so Minerva became the tutelary deity of the city, and the early Athenian rulers endeavoured to turn the attention of the citizens from warlike and seafaring pursuits, to the cultivation of the soil and the peaceful arts. On the coins of Attica, before the time of Pericles, an Olive-branch appeared with the moon and owl. Goats were sacrificed to Minerva, because they were thought to do special injury to the Olive-tree, and the goddess is styled by Virgil Oleæ inventrix. There was a deeper meaning attached to this Attic legend, the realisation of which appears as far off as it was in the days of Cecrops: still the Olive-branch remains the emblem of that period of peace and plenty which the world still hopes for.——The most sacred of the Athenian Olives grew in the temple of Minerva since the time of the dispute between Minerva and Neptune: it was burnt by Xerxes with the temple; but it was stated to have shot up again suddenly, after having been destroyed. The Athenians punished with great severity those who damaged their venerated Olive, which to them appears to have been emblematic of peace. It indicated liberty, hope, chastity, pity, and supplication; and special directions for the mode of planting the sacred tree had place among the institutes of Solon. Pliny asserts that the identical Olive-tree, called up by Minerva, was standing in his time.——The Olive is frequently mentioned in the Bible, both in a literal and figurative manner. The dove sent forth by Noah from the Ark, brought back an Olive-leaf (probably from Assyria, a country famous for Olive-trees), which the bird probably selected because the leaves would continue green beneath the water. As an emblem of peace, a garland of Olive was given to Judith when she restored peace to the Israelites by the death of Holofernes. The tree is still with the Jew the emblem of peace and plenty, with an added significance of holiness; and the association of it with the last days of Christ has made it also sacred to sorrow.——As an emblem of peace and reconciliation, the Olive is figured on the tombs of the early martyrs. As the attribute of peace, it is borne by the angel Gabriel, and St. Agnes, and St. Pantaleon. By Romanists the Olive is deemed a fitting emblem of the Virgin Mary, as the mother of Christ, who brought peace on earth, and who was the Prince of Peace.——In regard to the Olive-trees of the Garden of Gethsemane, eight of which are still stated to exist, Dean Stanley says: “In spite of all the doubts that can be raised against their antiquity, or the genuineness of their site, the eight aged Olive-trees, if only by their manifest difference from all others on the mountain, have always struck even the most indifferent observers. They are now, indeed, less striking in the modern garden enclosure, built round them by the Franciscans, than when they stood free and unprotected on the rough hillside; but they will remain so long as their already protracted life is spared, the most venerable of their race on the surface of the earth. Their gnarled trunks and scanty foliage will always be regarded as the most affecting of the sacred memorials in or about Jerusalem.”——According to the Jewish legend of Abimelech, the trees, once upon a time, desiring a king, addressed themselves first of all to the Olive, who refused the honours of royalty. The trees next in turn invited the Fig, the Vine, and other trees to become their monarch, but they all declined. At last the crown was offered to the Oak, who accepted it.——Grecian mythologists relate that the club of Hercules, which was made of Olive-wood, took root, and became a tree. In the Olympic games, instituted by Hercules, the victor was rewarded with a crown of Olive. The club of Polyphemus was the green trunk of an Olive-tree.——The caps of the priests of Jupiter were surmounted with a twig of Olive. The Olympian Jove is represented as wearing a wreath of Olives. Herodotus recounts that Xerxes, before his Grecian expedition, dreamed that he was crowned with an Olive wreath, the sprays of which turned towards the sun; but that a moment afterwards, this crown had disappeared.——The Athenians went to consult the Delphic oracle, holding in their hands branches of Olive, and asking for a favourable response in the name and through the favour of the Olive-trees; and Tigranes, when before Xerxes, reproached Mardonius with having carried on a war against a people who, in their Olympian games, were content with a crown of Olives as the reward of victory, and who fought not for plunder and riches, but for love of country and glory.——There stood in the Forum of Megara a wild Olive, on which it became the custom to hang the arms of local heroes. In course of time the bark of the Olive grew over these arms, and they were forgotten. An oracle, however, had declared that when the tree had brought forth arms, its destruction would take place. When the tree was cut down, the arms and helmets alluded to were discovered; and it was seen that the oracle had been fulfilled.——The Provençaux, at harvest time, sing a curious song, called the Reapers’ Grace, the first part of which narrates how Adam and Eve were put into the Garden of Eden; Adam is forbidden to eat of the fruit of life; he eats thereof, and the day of his death is foretold him. He will be buried under a Palm, Cypress, and Olive, and out of the wood of the Olive the cross was made.——According to a German tradition, from the tomb of Adam, the father of the human race, sprang an Olive: from this Olive was plucked the branch that the dove from the ark carried to Noah, the regenerator of the human race; and from the same Olive was made the cross of the Redeemer—the spiritual redeemer of the human race.——A tradition very general relates that the cross was formed of the Olive, Palm, Cedar, and Cypress, representing the four quarters of the globe.——In Central Europe, the Olive is everywhere regarded as the emblem of peace. It is planted in the midst of fields to ensure a good harvest and to protect the crops from hail: and in Venetia a branch is placed on the chimney-piece during thunder-storms as a preservative from lightning—a prayer being offered up at the same time to St. Barbara and St. Simon.——In some parts of Italy, young girls employ an Olive-branch as a means of divination. Having moistened a spray of Olive with their lips, they throw it in the fire; if the leaf jumps three times or darts out of the fire, they will find a husband; but if it burns without moving, it is a sure sign of celibacy. In Rome and Tuscany, the superstitious peasants imagine that no witch or sorcerer will enter a house where an Olive-branch that has been blessed is kept, and in order to ascertain whether they are suffering from the dire effects of an Evil Eye, they drop some Olive-oil in water, and from the appearance satisfy themselves on the point.——To dream of Olive-trees or Olives is considered a good omen, denoting happiness, prosperity, and success, and a speedy marriage to the lover; but to dream of plucking Olives is unpropitious, announcing trouble and vexation. To dream of Olive-trees bearing Olives denotes peace, delight, concord, liberty, dignity, and fruition of your desires. To dream that you beat the Olives down is lucky for all but servants.

ONION.—By the ancient Egyptians the Onion was regarded as a plant partaking of a sacred character and as a symbol of the Universe. With them it was a common object of worship, and their veneration for this and other vegetable products is ridiculed by the satirist Juvenal—

“How Egypt, mad with superstition grown,
Makes gods of monsters, but too well is known:
’Tis mortal sin an Onion to devour,
Each clove of Garlic hath a sacred power;
Religious nation sure, and blest abodes,
When every garden is o’errun with gods!”

The Onions of Egypt, which were of large size and exquisite flavour, were remembered with regretful longings by the discontented Israelites in the wilderness; and although the priests of ancient Egypt were forbidden to partake of them, yet they were admitted among the offerings placed on the altars of the gods.——Mythologists relate that the goddess Latona, having, during an indisposition, lost her appetite, regained it by eating an Onion, and thenceforth adopted this vegetable, which was accordingly consecrated to her.——The disciples of Pythagoras abstained from eating Onions, ostensibly because they grew during the falling moon, but probably because, like Beans, they were considered too stimulating in their effects. Among the Greeks, it would seem that the Onion was considered symbolic of generation, since we find that at the nuptials of Iphicrates with the daughter of King Cotys, he received, among other presents, a jar of snow, a jar of Lentils, and a jar of Onions.——It is thought that, as with the Egyptians, or with the English Druids, the Onion was an emblem of the deity, and to this day it is a custom in some parts of England for girls to divine by it. Barnaby Googe, in ‘Ye Popish Kingdome,’ tells us:—

“In these same days young wanton gyrles that meet for marriage be
Doe search to know the names of them that shall their husbands be;
Four Onyons, five, or eight they take, and make in every one
Such names as they do fancie most, and best to think upon.
Then nere the chimney them they set, and that same Onyon then
That firste doth sproute doth surely bear the name of their good man.”

In olden times, country lasses used to resort to a method of divination with an Onion named after St. Thomas: this they peeled and wrapped in a clean kerchief; then, placing it under their heads, they repeated the following lines:—

“Good St. Thomas, do me right,
And let my true-love come to-night,
That I may see him in the face,
And him in my fond arms embrace.”

In the South of England this species of divination is still extant, but the procedure is different. When the Onions are bought, the purchaser must take care to go in by one door of the shop and come out by another—a shop being selected that has two doors. These Onions, placed under your pillow on St. Thomas’s Eve, are sure to bring visions of your true-love, your future husband.——According to astrologers, the Onion is under the dominion of Mars.——To dream of Onions is considered of evil augury, portending sickness and misfortune.

“To dream of eating Onions means
Much strife in thy domestic scenes;
Secrets found out or else betrayed,
And many falsehoods made and said.”

ORANGE.—Both Spenser and Milton held the opinion that the Orange is the veritable “golden Apple” presented by Juno to Jupiter on the day of their nuptials; hence, perhaps, the association of the Orange with marriage rites. This golden fruit grew only in the garden of the Hesperides, situated near Mount Atlas in Africa, where they were carefully tended by the three daughters of Hesperus—Ægle, Arethusa, and Erythia—and guarded by an ever-sleeping dragon. It was one of the labours of Hercules, to obtain some of these golden Apples. After slaying the dragon, he succeeded in plucking the auriferous fruit, and took them to Eurystheus, but they were afterwards carried back to the garden of the Hesperides by Minerva, as they could not be preserved elsewhere. Milton alludes to the Orange as a tree

“Whose fruit, burnished with golden rind,
Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true,
If true, here only, and of delicious taste.”

These, again, were the golden Apples given by Venus to the subtle Hippomenes, and by means of which he cunningly contrived to wrest victory in his race with the swift-footed Atalanta. Perhaps, also, Spenser’s opinion is correct, and the Orange may be the fruit, the bestowal of which upon Venus was the origin of the Trojan war. Spenser states his opinion in the following stanzas of his ‘Faërie Queene’:—

“Next thereunto did grow a goodly tree,
With branches broad dispread and body great,
Clothèd with leaves, that none the wood might see,
And laden all with fruit, as thick as thick might be.
“The fruit were golden Apples glistering bright,
That goodly was their glory to behold;
On earth no better grew, nor living wight
E’er better saw, but they from hence[17] were sold;
For those which Hercules, with conquest bold,
Got from great Atlas’ daughters, hence began,
And planted there, did bring forth fruit of gold,
And those with which th’ Eubœan young man wan [won]
Swift Atalanta, when, through craft, he her outran.
“Here also sprang that goodly golden fruit
With which Acontius got his lover true,
Whom he had long time sought with fruitless suit;
Here eke that famous golden Apple grew,
The which among the gods false Até threw,
For which th’ Idæan ladies disagreed,
Till partial Paris deem’d it Venus’ due,
And had of her fair Helen for his meed,
That many noble Greeks and Trojans made to bleed.”

At Brighton, there exists a curious custom of bowling or throwing Oranges along the high-road on Boxing-day. He whose Orange is hit by that of another, forfeits the fruit to the successful hitter.——An Andalusian tradition, given by De Gubernatis, relates that the Virgin Mary, journeying with the infant Jesus and with Joseph, came to the Orange-tree, which was guarded by an eagle, and begged of it one of the Oranges for the holy child. The eagle miraculously fell asleep, and the Virgin thereupon plucked not one but three Oranges, one of which she gave to the infant Jesus, another to Joseph, and the third she kept for herself. Then, and not till then, the eagle that guarded the Orange-tree awoke.——According to Evelyn, the first China Orange-tree which reached Europe was sent as a present to the old Conde Mellor, then Prime Minister to the King of Portugal. Writing in 1697, the Jesuit Le Comte states that “the first and unique Orange-tree, from which it is said all others have sprung, is still preserved at Lisbon, in the house of Count St. Laurent.”——In Sicily, statues of the Madonna are decorated with branches of the Orange; at Avola, in Sicily, on Easter Sunday, two posts are set up, and decorated with Orange-boughs.——The Orange is one of those rare trees which produce at the same time fruit, flowers, and foliage; hence it is in some countries considered as typifying great fulness, and has thus become connected with wedding ceremonies. The practice of wearing Orange-blossoms and wreaths by brides has been derived from the Saracens, amongst whom the Orange-flower was regarded as emblematic of a happy and prosperous marriage. In Crete, the bride and bridegroom are sprinkled with Orange-flower-water. In Sardinia, it is customary to attach Oranges to the horns of oxen which draw the nuptial carriage.——To dream of Oranges would appear to be at all times a very unfavourable omen.

ORCHIS.—From mythology we learn that the Orchis owes its origin to the wanton son of the satyr Patellanus and the nymph Acolasia, who presided at the feasts celebrated in honour of Priapus. The headstrong Orchis, being present at the celebration of the feast of Bacchus, laid violent hands on one of the priestesses of that god; and this sacrilegious conduct so incensed the Bacchanals against the youth, that they forthwith set upon him, and in their fury literally tore him in pieces. His father adjured the gods, but the only remedy he could obtain was that his son’s mangled corpse should be transformed into a flower, which should ever after bear the name of Orchis, as a blot upon his memory.——Among the early Romans, the Orchis was often called Satyrion, because it was believed to be the food of the satyrs, and as such excited them to those excesses which were characteristic of the attendants of Bacchus. Hence, the Orchis-root not unnaturally became famous as a powerful stimulating medicine, and is so described by all herbalists from the time of Dioscorides.——A very old tradition exists that Orchids sprang from the seed of the thrush and the blackbird.——Bishop Fleetwood writes of these curious flowers that they represent apes, birds, wasps, bees, flies, butterflies, gnats, spiders, grasshoppers, and other insects; “but the most curious sort is that which is called Anthropophora, because it represents a man or a woman very exactly.” He further tells us “this flower, resembling a man, appears in the beginning of Autumn; but that which represents women comes in May. These two Orchids were, in 1671, engraved by order of the Academia Curiosorum Naturæ, and were described as Orchis Anthropophorus Mas., and O. A. Fœmina.”——A tradition is attached to the English species, Orchis mascula, which usually has its leaves marked with deep purple spots. It is said that these spots are the stains of the precious blood which flowed from our Lord’s wounded body on the cross at Calvary, as this species of Orchis is reported to have grown there. In Cheshire, the plant is called Gethsemane.——The sweet-scented Orchis, Gymnadenia conopsea, is the Northern goddess Frigg’s Grass.

ORPINE.—On Midsummer Eve, Orpine (Sedum Telephium), Fennel, Lilies, and Hypericum used formerly to be hung over doors and windows. The plant is commonly called ‘Midsummer Men’ and ‘Livelong,’ from a custom of country lasses to try their lovers’ fidelity with it on Midsummer Eve: this they do by setting up two plants of Orpine—one representing themselves, and another their lovers—upon a slate or trencher, and afterwards judging of the state of their lover’s affections by his plant living and turning to their own, or not. Wives, also, place over their heads the Orpine-plant, and by the bending of the leaves to the right or to the left divine whether husbands are true or false. (See Livelong.)

OSMUND ROYAL.—The stately flowering Fern Osmunda Regalis is said to derive its name from the following legend:—A waterman, named Osmund, once dwelt on the banks of Loch Fyne, with his wife and daughter. One day a band of fugitives, bursting into his cottage, warned Osmund that the cruel Danes were fast approaching the ferry. Osmund heard them with fear; he trembled for those he held dearer than life. Suddenly the shouts of furious men roused him to action. Snatching up his oars, he rowed his trembling wife and child to a small island covered with this beautiful Fern; and helping them to land, he bade them lie down beneath the shady foliage for protection. Scarcely had the ferryman returned to his cottage, ere a company of fierce Danes rushed in, but knowing that he could be of service to them, they did him no harm. During the day and night, Osmund was occupied in ferrying the troops across the lake. When the last company had landed, Osmund kneeled beside the bank, and returned thanks to Heaven for the preservation of his wife and child. Often in after years did he speak of that day’s peril; and his daughter called the Fern by her father’s name. Gerarde, in describing the stem of the Osmunda, which, on being cut, exhibits a white centre, calls this portion of the Fern the “heart of Osmund, the waterman,” probably in allusion to the above tradition.

Our Lady’s Plants.—See Lady’s Plants.

Ox-Eye.—See Moon Daisy.

PALASA.—Palasa is a Sanscrit word, meaning “leaf,” but in course of time it became applied to the Butea frondosa as well as the name Parna, which also signifies a leaf. The modern Indian name of the tree is Dhak. The Palasa is in India a sacred tree, and has a special cultus; as such, it is held to be imbued with the immortalising Soma, the beverage of the gods. According to the Vedas, it owed its origin to a feather dropped by a falcon who, when the gods were pining for the precious Soma fluid, succeeded in stealing some from the demons who had charge of it. In flying off with its prize, the falcon was wounded by an arrow shot by one of the demons, which wounded it and caused a feather impregnated with the divine fluid to fall to earth, where it took root and became a Palasa-tree (called also Parna), which has a red sap and scarlet blossoms—emblems of the sacred fire. The falcon was a transformed god—some say Indra—hence the tree which sprang from the god-bird’s feather was in its nature divine.——The Palasa was much employed by the Hindus in religious ceremonies, particularly in one connected with the blessing of calves to ensure them proving good milkers. To this end, at the time of the sacrifice offered in the new moon (the season of increase), the priest, on behalf of the Hindu farmer, selected a Palasa-branch that grew on the north-east, north, or east side of the tree, and cut it off, saying, “For strength cut I thee.” Then, having stripped off the leaves, he struck both calves and dams with it, blessing the latter and bidding them be good milkers and breeders, and profitable animals to their masters. This done, he stuck up the Palasa rod eastward of the holy fire, and bade it protect the cattle. The object in thus touching the cattle was that the divine Soma contained in the rod might pass into and enrich the udders of the beasts. The Palasa is triple-leaved, and hence was deemed to typify, like the trident, the forked lightning, an appropriate attribute, inasmuch as it originally sprang from a god of the lightning. In this respect, it resembled the rod of Mercury (a fire-god), the Sami, and the Rowan rod.——The staff of the Brahman ought to be made of Palasa wood. (See Dhak.)

PALM.—The Palm-tree is symbolic of victory, of riches, and of generation. It was considered by the ancients also an emblem of light, and was held sacred to Apollo. The Palm of Delos was supposed to have existed from the time of the god Apollo himself. Among the Greeks, there existed a legend that the Palm, like the Olive, was brought into Greece by Hercules, on his return from the infernal regions. The Orphics venerated the Palm as an immortal tree, which never grew old; hence, as a symbol of immortality, and especially of the immortality of glory, it was associated with the goddess Victoria, called also Dea Palmaris.——In India, as amongst the Arabs, the Palm is considered a sacred tree.——According to an Indian legend, the Palm of the Lake of Taroba, in Central India, was only visible during the day; in the evening it re-entered the earth. It is related that a rash pilgrim climbed one morning to the top of the Palm, but the tree grew to such a height above the earth’s surface, that the pilgrim was scorched to death by the sun’s rays, and the Palm itself was reduced to tinder. On the spot where the miraculous Palm is said to have once grown stands the idol of the Geni of the Lake, called Taroba.——Christian legend has associated the Palm with the history of Jesus. According to the Apocryphal Gospel, the Virgin Mary, whilst journeying, became fatigued and oppressed with the great heat; in passing by a great desert, she saw a large and beautiful Palm-tree, beneath which she wished to seek rest and shelter; so she asked Joseph to drive the ass upon which she was seated towards the tree. When she reached the foot of the tree, she dismounted, and, looking up, noticed that the tree was laden with fruit. Then she said to Joseph: “I wish to have some of the fruit of this tree, for I am hungry.” To this, Joseph replied: “Mary, I marvel that you should desire to eat of this fruit.” Then Jesus Christ, who was seated in his mother’s lap, ordered the Palm to bend down, so that his mother might partake of its fruit at pleasure. And forthwith the tree bent down to the Virgin Mary, and she partook of its fruit, and still the Palm remained bent downwards. Then, Jesus perceiving this, ordered the Palm to resume its natural position, and it immediately did so. This legend has been widely diffused in Italy and elsewhere, sometimes with the following addendum: “Jesus, after this act of devotion on the part of the Palm, gave the tree his benediction, chose it as the symbol of eternal salvation for the dying, and declared that he would make his triumphant entry into Jerusalem with a Palm in his hand.”——The Palm was early assumed by the Christian Church as the universal symbol of martyrdom, in accordance with Revelation vii., 9: “And after this I beheld, and lo, a great multitude stood before the throne, clothed with white robes, and with Palms in their hands.... And he said to me, These are they which came out of great tribulation.” Hence, in early Italian paintings of the saints, as well as on the sculptured effigies of Christian heroes, the Palm is represented as borne by those who suffered martyrdom; and, in some instances, by those conspicuous for their victory over pain and temptation.——In old religious paintings, St. Christopher (who lived in the middle of the fourth century) is represented as a man of Herculean proportions, who uses, as a supporting staff, an entire Palm-tree with leaves and branches. The legend is, that having, when still unconverted, entreated a hermit to show him Christ, the holy man admonished him that he must do some good and acceptable work, and recommended him to go to the banks of a deep and swollen river, and by his great strength assist travellers to cross over it. Christopher readily undertook the task, and went and dwelt by the side of the river. Having rooted up a Palm-tree, he used it as a staff to guide and support his steps, and aided all who were overcome by the stream, and carried the weak on his shoulders across it. After he had spent many days at this toil, he, one night, whilst lying resting in his hut, heard a voice calling him from the shore. He arose and looked out, but saw nothing. So he lay down again, and the same thing occurred to him a second and third time. Then he took his lantern and searched about the river bank, and at last discovered a little child, who plaintively said to him: “Christopher, carry me over this night.” Thereupon the stalwart young man lifted the little child on his shoulders, and grasping his Palm-staff, entered the stream. As he struggled across, the waters kept rising higher and higher; the waves roared, and beat against him, and the winds blew. The infant on his shoulder became heavier and still heavier, till Christopher felt that he must sink under the excessive weight, and began to feel afraid: nevertheless, taking fresh courage, and staying his tottering steps with his Palm-staff, he at length reached the opposite bank. Gently placing the child down, he looked at him with astonishment, and asked, “Who art thou, child, that hast placed me in such extreme peril? Had I carried the whole world on my shoulders, the burthen had not been heavier.” Then the child replied: “Wonder not, Christopher, for thou hast not only borne the world, but Him who made the world, upon thy shoulders. Me wouldst thou serve in this thy work of charity; and, behold, I have accepted thy service; and in testimony that I have accepted thy service and thee, plant thy staff in the ground, and it shall put forth leaves and fruit.” Christopher did so, and the dry Palm-staff flourished as a Palm-tree in the season, and was covered with clusters of Dates. But the miraculous child had vanished. Then Christopher fell on his face, and confessed and worshipped Christ.——According to the legend of the death of the Virgin Mary, she was, one day, filled with an inexpressible longing to behold her Son again, and whilst weeping, an angel suddenly appeared, and said: “Hail, O Mary! I bring thee here a branch of Palm, gathered in Paradise; command that it be carried before thy bier in the day of thy death; for in three days thy soul shall leave thy body, and thou shalt enter into Paradise, where thy Son awaits thy coming.” After conversing with the Holy Mother, the angel departed into heaven, and the Palm-branch which he had left behind him shed light from every leaf, and sparkled as the stars of the morning. At the same instant, the apostles, who were dispersed in various parts of the world, were miraculously caught up and deposited at Mary’s door. Then, having thanked the Lord, she placed in the hands of St. John the shining Palm, and desired him to bear it before her at the time of the burial—an office which he faithfully discharged.——Some authorities mention the Palm as one of the four trees which furnished the wood of which the Redeemer’s Cross was composed; this notion is derived from Canticles vii., 8: “I will go up to the Palm-tree,” &c. Hence the old rhyme:—

“Nailed were His feet to Cedar, to Palm His hands—
Cypress His body bore, title on Olive stands.”

The praises of the Palm have been sung by Hebrew, Indian, Persian, and Arabian poets of all ages. According to Strabo, a Persian hymn, but according to Plutarch a Babylonian hymn, records the three hundred and sixty benefits conferred on mankind by this noble tree; whilst a poem in the Tamil language, although enumerating eight hundred and one uses of the Palmyra Palm, does not exhaust the catalogue.——In the Indian Vishnu Purâna, the fruitfulness of the Date Palm is alluded to. The youthful Bala Râma slays the monster Dhenuka, and casts the carcase at the foot of a Date Palm: then the Dates fell upon him just as rain, beaten by the winds, patters down on the earth.——In India, the Palm has given rise to a proverb on account of the facility with which it takes root: the natives say of a vile and despised enemy, that he takes root as a Palm.——To dream of a Palm-tree is a very good omen, particularly if it is in full blossom, in which case it predicts much success and good fortune.

PANSY.—The Pansy (Viola tricolor) derives its name from a corruption of the French word pensées, thoughts: thus poor Ophelia says:—

“Pray you love, remember,
And there’s Pansies,—that’s for thoughts.”—Shakspeare.

Spenser designated the flower “the pretty Pawnce;” Milton spoke of it as the “Pansy freak’d with jet;” and Drayton sings:—

“The pretty Pansy then I’ll tye,
Like stones some chain enchasing;
The next to them, their near ally,
The purple Violet placing.”

Rapin writes of the flower as Flos Jovis—the flower of Jove:—

“With all the beauties in the valleys bred,
Spearmint, that’s born with Myrtle crowns to wed.
And Jove’s own flower, in which three colours meet,
To rival Violets, though without their sweet.”

In addition to this grandiose title, the little flower rejoices in a multiplicity of epithets bestowed on it by rural admirers. It is Heart’s-ease, Forget-me-not, Herb Trinity, Three-Faces-under-a-Hood, Love-and-Idle, Love-in-idleness, Live-in-Idleness, Call-me-to-you, Cuddle-me-to-you, Jump-up-and-kiss-me, Kiss-me-ere-I-Rise, Kiss-me-at-the-Garden-Gate, Tittle-my-Fancy, Pink-of-my-John, and Flamy, because its colours are seen in the flame of wood. In the North-east of Scotland, and in Scandinavia, the flower is with a spice of irony called Step-mother. In ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ Shakspeare gives the Heart’s-ease magical qualities. Oberon bids Puck procure for him “a little western flower” on which Cupid’s dart had fallen, and which maidens called “Love-in-Idleness.” Says the fairy king:—

“Fetch me that flower—the herb I showed thee once;
The juice of it, on sleeping eyelids laid,
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.”

The poet Herrick tells us, in regard to the origin of these favourite flowers, that—

“Frolick virgins once there were,
Over-loving, living here.
Being here their ends denied,
Ran for sweethearts mad, and died.
Love, in pity of their tears,
And their loss in blooming years,
For their restless here-spent hours,
Gave them Heart’s-ease turned to flowers.”

The Pansy was the accidental cause of Bertram, the first American botanist, devoting himself to the study of botany. The stamens and pistil of this flower have something grotesque in their appearance when disclosed, resembling to a fanciful mind an animal with arms, and a head projecting and stooping forward. Bertram, who was originally a farmer, while superintending his servants in the field, and giving them directions, gathered a Pansy that was growing at his feet, and thoughtlessly pulled off its petals one after another. Struck with the stamens and pistil, Bertram conveyed it home, that he might examine it more carefully. Its examination created in him that thirst for the knowledge of the construction and habits of plants which afterwards rendered him so famous, and won for him the friendship of Linnæus.——The Heart’s-ease is said to be sacred to St. Valentine. As the Herba Trinitatis, or Herb Trinity, it is the special flower of Trinity Sunday.——It is considered to be a herb of Saturn.

PAPYRUS.—Plutarch tells us that the vessel on which the Egyptian goddess Isis embarked on her voyage to search for the remains of Osiris, was constructed of the Reeds of the Papyrus (Papyrus antiquorum), and that the crocodiles, out of respect and fear of the goddess, dared not approach the bark.——The Papyrus is the Rush described in the Hebrew Scriptures by the word Gôme, and in an ark of Gôme the mother of the infant Moses put her babe, and laid it in the Flags by the brink of the river Nile. The ancient Egyptians plaited the stems of the Papyrus not only into little boats, but into sails, mats, and sandals. The fabrication in particular of little boats appears to have been practised by them to an immense extent, and to have commenced in the very earliest days of the nation. M. de Castelnau says that the Reed-boats still in use amongst the Peruvians exactly resemble the pictured representations of the Egyptian ones, as preserved on the walls of the tomb of Rameses III. at Thebes. Bundles of Papyrus-stems furnished models for the shafts of some of the pillars of the ancient Egyptian temples, and the bases of these were ornamented with representations of the sheaths that encircle the foot of the flower-stalk. The Papyrus-plant supplied the material of which the famous paper, both rough and fine, was manufactured in ancient times. Papyrus paper made 2000 years B.C., or anterior to the time of Abraham, is still in existence. It was an article of commerce long before the time of Herodotus, and it remained in use till the seventh century. This Papyrus paper was prepared from the white pith of the stoutest stems of the Reeds which grew in great abundance in the pools caused by the overflowing of the Nile.——Plutarch relates, that when Agesilaus visited Egypt, he was so delighted with the chaplets of Papyrus sent him by the king, that he took some home when he returned to Sparta.

PARSLEY.—Hercules is said to have selected Parsley to form the first garlands he wore. The Greeks held Parsley (Petroselinum) in great reputation. A crown of dried and withered Parsley was given to the victor at the Isthmian games; and one of green Parsley to the conqueror at the Nemean games, in memory of the death of Archemorus, the infant son of Lycurgus, who, laid down by his nurse on a sprig of Parsley, was killed by a serpent.——A branch of Laurel and a crown of Parsley were given to the god of banquets. At Greek banquets the guests wore crowns of Parsley, under the belief that the herb created quiet and promoted an appetite.——Greek gardens were often bordered by Parsley and Rue; hence arose the saying, when an undertaking was in contemplation, but not really commenced: “Oh, we are only at the Parsley and Rue!” Parsley, again, was in great request for the purpose of decorating graves; and the Greeks were fond of strewing sprigs of the herb over the bodies of the dead. A despairing lover cries:—

“Garlands that o’er thy doors I hung,
Hang withered now and crumble fast;
Whilst Parsley on thy fair form flung,
Now tells my heart that all is past!”

From these funereal associations the herb acquired an ominous significance; and “to be in need of Parsley” was a proverbial expression meaning to be on the point of death. Plutarch tells of a panic created in a Greek force marching against the enemy by their suddenly meeting some mules laden with Parsley, which the soldiery looked upon as an ill omen. In our own country, to this day, there is an old saying among the people of Surrey and Middlesex, that “Where Parsley’s grown in the garden, there’ll be a death before the year’s out.”——There are several other English superstitions connected with Parsley. Children are often told that newly-born infants have been found in a Parsley bed. The seed of this herb is apt to come up only partially, according as the Devil takes his tithe of it. If, after having bruised some sprigs of Parsley in her hands, the housewife should attempt to raise her glasses, they will generally snap, and suddenly break. In some parts of Devonshire, the belief is widely spread that to transplant Parsley is an offence to the spirit who is supposed to preside over Parsley beds, entailing sure punishment either on the offender himself or some members of his family within a year. The peasants of South Hampshire will on no account give away Parsley, for fear of misfortune befalling them; and in Suffolk there is an old belief that to ensure the herb coming up “double,” Parsley-seed must be sown on Good Friday.——In the Southern States of America, the negroes consider it unlucky to transplant Parsley from an old home to a new one.——To dream of cutting Parsley is said to indicate a cross in love; to dream of eating it foretels good news.——The herb is held to be under Mercury.

PASQUE-FLOWER.—The Anemone Pulsatilla is the Paschal or Pasque-flower, especially dedicated to the Church’s Easter festival, The petals of the flower yield a rich green colour, which in olden times was used for the purpose of staining the eggs to be presented, according to custom, as Easter gifts. (See Anemone.)

PASSION-FLOWER.—The Passion-flower (Passiflora cœrulea) is a wild flower of the South American forests, and it is said that the Spaniards, when they first saw the lovely bloom of this plant, as it hung in rich festoons from the branches of the forest trees, regarded the magnificent blossom as a token that the Indians should be converted to Christianity, as they saw in its several parts the emblems of the Passion of our Lord.——In the year 1610, Jacomo Bosio, the author of an exhaustive treatise on the Cross of Calvary, was busily engaged on this work when there arrived in Rome an Augustinian friar, named Emmanuel de Villegas, a Mexican by birth. He brought with him, and showed to Bosio, the drawing of a flower so “stupendously marvellous,” that he hesitated making any mention of it in his book. However, some other drawings and descriptions were sent to him by inhabitants of New Spain, and certain Mexican Jesuits, sojourning at Rome, confirmed all the astonishing reports of this floral marvel; moreover, some Dominicans at Bologna engraved and published a drawing of it, accompanied by poems and descriptive essays. Bosio therefore conceived it to be his duty to present the Flos Passionis to the world as the most wondrous example of the Croce trionfante discovered in forest or field. The flower represents, he tells us, not so directly the Cross of our Lord, as the past mysteries of the Passion. It is a native of the Indies, of Peru, and of New Spain, where the Spaniards call it “the Flower of the Five Wounds,” and it had clearly been designed by the great Creator that it might, in due time, assist in the conversion of the heathen among whom it grows. Alluding to the bell-like shape assumed by the flower during the greater part of its existence (i.e., whilst it is expanding and fading), Bosio remarks: “And it may well be that, in His infinite wisdom, it pleased him to create it thus shut up and protected, as though to indicate that the wonderful mysteries of the Cross and of his Passion were to remain hidden from the heathen people of those countries until the time preordained by His Highest Majesty.”——The figure given of the Passion-flower in Bosio’s work shows the crown of thorns twisted and plaited, the three nails, and the column of the flagellation just as they appear on ecclesiastical banners, &c. “The upper petals,” writes Bosio in his description, “are tawny in Peru, but in New Spain they are white, tinged with rose. The filaments above resemble a blood-coloured fringe, as though suggesting the scourge with which our blessed Lord was tormented. The column rises in the middle. The nails are above it; the crown of thorns encircles the column; and close in the centre of the flower from which the column rises is a portion of a yellow colour, about the size of a reale, in which are five spots or stains of the hue of blood, evidently setting forth the five wounds received by our Lord on the Cross. The colour of the column, the crown, and the nails is a clear green. The crown itself is surrounded by a kind of veil, or very fine hair, of a violet colour, the filaments of which number seventy-two, answering to the number of thorns with which, according to tradition, our Lord’s crown was set; and the leaves of the plant, abundant and beautiful, are shaped like the head of a lance or pike, referring, no doubt, to that which pierced the side of our Saviour, whilst they are marked beneath with round spots, signifying the thirty pieces of silver.” Such is Bosio’s description of what he designates the “stupendous flower,” and the stir which his writings caused among the botanists and theologians of Italy soon brought about the introduction of the plant itself, which, before the year 1625, had established itself and blossomed in the garden of Cardinal Odoardo Farnese, at Rome. Aldinus, who was both the Cardinal’s physician and the controller of his garden, has left his description of the Passion-flower, and says of it:—“This is the famous plant sung by poets and celebrated by orators, the plant reasoned about by philosophers with the utmost subtlety, praised by physicians for its marvellous virtues, sought for eagerly by the sick, wondered at by theologians, and venerated by all pious Christians.” In his description of the flower Aldinus sets forth “what theologians may really find in it.” He says: “The nails on the top are represented so exactly, that nothing more perfect can be imagined.... In the open flower they are twisted and marked with dark blood-like spots, as if they had been already removed from the Cross. The small undeveloped seed-vessels may be compared to the sponge full of vinegar offered to our Lord. The star-form of the half-opened flower may represent the star of the Wise Men; but the five petals, fully opened, the five wounds. The base of the ovary is the column of the flagellation. The filaments represent the scourges spotted with blood, and the purple circle on them is the crown of thorns, blood covered. The white petals symbolise the purity and brightness of Our Lord, and His white robe. The corniculata folia, the sub-petals, white inside and green without, figure hope and purity, and are sharply pointed, as if to indicate the ready eagerness with which each one of the faithful should embrace and consider the mysteries of the Passion. The leaves of the whole plant are set on singly, for there is one God, but are triply divided, for there are Three Persons. The plant itself would climb toward heaven, but cannot do so without support. So the Christian, whose nature is to climb, demands constant assistance. Cut down, it readily springs up again; and whoever holds the mysteries of the Passion in his heart cannot be hurt by the evil world. Its fruit is sweet and delicate, and the Passion of our Lord brings sweet and delectable fruit to us.” In his ‘Paradisus Terrestris,’ John Parkinson, writing in 1629, speaks of the “Virgin Climer,” as “a brave and too-much-desired plant,” with flowers which “make a tripartite shew of colours most delightfull,” and are “of a comfortable sweet sent, very acceptable.”——The plant’s native Indian name was Maracot; from the likeness of the fruit to a small Pomegranate, it was sometimes called Granadilla; the Mexican Jesuits named it Flor de las cinca llagas; but in Italy, it was usually known as Fior della Passione, the name which it has retained throughout Europe.

[enlarge]

TO FACE PAGE 487.]

The Granadilla, or Passion Flower.
From Zahn’s ‘Speculæ Physico-Mathematico-Historicæ.’

PAULOWNIA.—The noble hardy tree, Paulownia imperialis, was so named in 1840 in honour of the Hereditary Princess of the Netherlands, a daughter of the Emperor of Russia. The Paulownias are famous throughout Japan for the hardness and beauty of their wood: they attain a height of about thirty feet, and produce dark lilac flowers, which are borne in three spikes upon a tri-lobed sinuous leaf. These flowers, which resemble the blossom of the Catalpa, constitute one of the crests of the Mikado of Japan.

PAVETTA INDICA.—A race of Malays, called the Aruans, when burying their dead, carry the body into the forest, and hoist it upon the summit of four posts. A tree, usually the Pavetta Indica, is then planted near it, and at this final ceremony none but nude females are allowed to be present.

PEA.—The priests of ancient Egypt were not allowed to partake of Peas.——The Pea, like most trailing and climbing plants, has always traditionally been connected with celestial fire. According to a mediæval legend, the ancient Midsummer or St. John’s Day fires were kindled at the season of the Summer solstice for the purpose of scaring away pestilential dragons; and these dragons carried Peas in their flight, which they cast down in such quantities as to fill up the wells, and their smell was so foul that the cattle refused to eat them: these Peas represent lightning, and their smell is the sulphurous fume that clings to everything struck by it. The ancient German Zwergs, who are dwarfs closely connected with the thunder-god Thor, and who forged for him his lightning hammer, are exceedingly fond of Peas, and often plunder the Pea-fields. Peas were consecrated to Thor himself, and to this day in Berlin Peas with Saurkraut are a standing dish on Thor’s Day (Thursday). The Pea was the favourite vegetable of Thor himself, and St. Nicholas, who in some countries has replaced him, is sometimes represented as being clad in Peas-straws. In the North of England, if a lass’s lover has proved unfaithful to her, she is, by way of consolation, rubbed with Peas-straw by neighbouring lads. A Scottish ballad says:—

“If you meet a bonnie lassie
Gie her a kiss, and let her gae;
If you meet a dirty hussey,
Fie, gae rub her o’er wi’ strae!”

Similarly when a Cambrian youth has been jilted, and his sweetheart marries a rival, the same operation is performed upon him, as a solace, by the village lasses. In the North of England, Carling Sunday (the fourth in Lent) is universally celebrated by feasts of Peas and butter. The use of Peas in divination concerning love affairs probably arises from the fact that they are sacred to the patron of marriage. In Bohemia, the girls go into a Pea-field, and there make a garland of five or seven kinds of flowers, all of different hues. This garland they use as a pillow, lying down with their right ear upon it, and then they hear a voice from underground, which tells them what manner of man they will have for a husband. A curious custom, known as “Peascod wooing,” was formerly extant in many country places; it was performed, according to Brand, by selecting one growing on the stem, snatching it away quickly, and if the good omen of the Peas remaining in the husk was preserved, then presenting it to the chosen lady. A girl shelling Peas will, if she should chance to find a pod containing nine, place it on the lintel of the kitchen door, and the first single man who enters is considered to be marked out for her future husband. Gay alludes to this custom in the following lines:—

“As Peascod once I plucked, I chanced to see
One that was closely filled with three times three;
Which, when I cropped, I safely home conveyed,
And o’er the door the spell in secret laid.
The latch moved up, when who should first come in,
But in his proper person—Lubberkin.”

The village girls in Hertfordshire lay the pod with nine Peas under a gate, and believe they will have for husband the man who first passes through, or, at any rate, one whose Christian name and surname have the same initials as his.——It is always considered a good augury to dream of Peas.——In Suffolk, there is a legend that the Lathyrus Maritimus, or Everlasting Pea of the sea-side, sprang up on the coast there for the first time in a season when greatly needed; and Fuller says of this particular Pea that “in a general dearth all over England, plenty of Peas did grow on the sea-shore, near Dunmow, in Suffolk, never set or sown by human industry, which, being gathered in a full ripeness, much abated the high price in the markets, and preserved many hungry families from perishing.”

PEACH.—There is an old tradition that the falling of the leaves of a Peach-tree betoken a murrain.——There is a superstitious belief in Sicily, that anyone afflicted with goître, who on the night of St. John, or of the Ascension, eats a Peach, will be cured, provided only that the Peach-tree dies at the same time; the idea being that the tree, in dying, takes the goître away with it, and so delivers the sufferer from the affliction. In Italy, as a charm to cure warts, Peach-leaves are carefully buried in the earth, so that as they perish the wart may disappear.——To dream of Peaches in season denotes content, health, and pleasure.

PEAR.—Among the ancients, the Pear was specially consecrated to Venus. Columella knew a species called Pyrus Venerea, the Pear of Love. The Scots claim that “fair Avalon,” the Celtic “Isle of the Blest,” is an island in Loch Awe, Argyleshire; and the Gaelic legend changes the mystical Apples into the berries of the Pyrus cordata, a species of wild Pear, found both in the island of Loch Awe, and in Aiguilon.——On the Continent, there is a belief that orchards are infested by malignant spirits, which attack the fruit-trees, and in the Département de l’Orne, to drive away the demons which attack Pears and Apples, the peasants burn the Moss on the trunk and branches, singing the while an appropriate rhyme or incantation. In Aargau, Switzerland, when a boy is born, they plant an Apple-tree; when a girl, a Pear.——To dream of ripe Pears betokens riches and happiness; if unripe, adversity; if baked, great success in business; to a woman a dream of Pears denotes that she will marry above her in rank.

PEEPUL.—The Ficus religiosa, the Asvattha or Pippala of the Hindus, is a tree held in the highest sanctity by the Buddhists, near whose temples it is always found. It is this tree—the Bodhidruma, the Tree of Wisdom—under which Buddha sat absorbed in a species of intellectual ecstacy, and which his followers regard as the tree of creation, life, wisdom, and preparation for Paradise, as well as the yielder of ambrosia and rain. From ancient Vedic tradition the Buddhists have inherited the worship of this sacred tree: they say that at the hour of Buddha’s nativity, whilst around Kapilavastu suddenly arose magnificent woods, an enormous Asvattha, or Bo-tree, sprang from the very centre of the universe.——Hiouen-thsang, the Chinese pilgrim, professed to have found the Bodhidruma, or some tree that passed for it, twelve hundred years after Buddha’s death, at a spot near Gaya Proper, in Bahar, where still may be seen an old temple and ruins.——De Gubernatis tells us that there is represented in the Kâthaka Upanishad a heavenly cosmogonic Asvattha under precisely the same form as the Indian Bo-tree. “The eternal Asvattha, it is said, has its roots above, its branches below; it is called the Germ, Brahma, Ambrosia; beneath it all the worlds repose, above it nothing exists.” With its wood and that of the Acacia Suma (Sami) the sacred fire is lighted—the Asvattha representing the male, the Sami the female. The Asvattha, in rubbing the Sami, engenders the fire, and thus becomes an emblem of generation. From its heavenly origin and from its maintaining the fire of purification, the Bo-tree is credited with marvellous medicinal properties. Into a vase made of Asvattha-wood the priests pour the divine drink Soma.——In the Atharvaveda, says De Gubernatis, we are told that the Asvattha grows in the third heaven, and produces the Ambrosia under the name of Kushtha, or flower of the Amrita. He who eats the ambrosial food becomes intelligent. The cosmogonic tree of the Vedas is also the Tree of Intelligence, hence Buddha, the apostle of intelligence, sought refuge beneath its shade.——In a book of travels by two Chinese Buddhist pilgrims, translated by Mr. Beal, we find it stated that the only spot indicated by the gods as propitious to the acquirement of supreme wisdom is beneath the tree Peito, which the translator identifies with the Peepul, Bo-Tree, or Ficus religiosa. In the same narrative we learn that the gods constructed from the tree Sal (Shorea robusta) to the tree Bo a splendid road, three thousand cubits wide. The young Prince Buddha traverses the road during the night, surrounded by the Devas, the Nâgas, and other divine beings. Under the tree Peito Buddha walked from east to west, and was worshipped by the gods for the space of seven days; after that the gods constructed, north-west of the tree, a palace of gold, where Buddha stayed for seven days. Then he repaired to the lake Mukhalinda, where he sought the shadow of the tree Midella. Then the rain fell for seven days, and so the Nâga Mukhalinda came forth from the lake and sheltered Buddha with his hood. As showing the extreme fondness of Buddha for the Bo-tree, it is related by the Chinese that at the commencement of his conversion, he withdrew habitually beneath the tree Peito to meditate and fast. The Queen became exceedingly uneasy, and, in the hope of bringing back Buddha to his home, she gave orders for the Peito to be cut down. But at the sight of his beloved Bo-tree razed to the earth, so bitter became the grief of the seer, that he fell in a swoon to the ground. They sprinkled him with water, and when, after considerable trouble, he was restored to consciousness, he sprinkled on the roots one hundred jars full of milk; then prostrating himself with his face to the earth, he pronounced this vow:—“If the tree does not revive, I shall never arise again.” The tree at the same moment shot forth branches, and little by little raised itself until it attained its present height, which is about 120 feet. The number of Bo-trees which have become objects of veneration among the Hindus, and especially the Buddhists, is infinite, and the worship of the sacred Bodhidruma is still extant in India.——The Bo-tree is also specially consecrated to Vishnu, who is often portrayed as seated on its heart-shaped and pointed leaves. It is represented in the Vedas as being frequented by various birds, who eat its sweet Figs.——In the sacred city of Anurâdhapura, in Ceylon, is a Bo-tree, which is supposed to be one of the oldest trees in existence, and its age is not merely legendary, but substantiated by authentic records. Kings have dedicated their dominions to it, in testimony of their belief that it sprang from a branch of the identical tree under which Buddha reclined for seven years whilst undergoing his apotheosis. The precious branch was taken to Ceylon by the king Asoka, and the tree of which it was the parent was planted by the king Tissa, in the year 288 B.C. When planting it Tissa prophesied that it should flourish eternally, and that it should be an evergreen. It is too sacred to be touched by a knife, but the leaves, as they fall, are eagerly gathered and treasured by Buddhist pilgrims.——In Java, the Bo-tree is also held sacred, and a species of Mistletoe which grows on its branches is supposed to afford much gratification to the shades of the departed which revisit earth. The Buddhists of Thibet call the sacred Bo-tree the bridge of safety—the bridge by which mortals pass from the shores of the world to the shores of the immortal land.

PENNYROYAL.—The Pennyroyal (Mentha Pulegium) used formerly to be called Puliol Royal, and derived its name from the Latin word pulices, fleas—insects it was thought to be specially efficacious in destroying. In most of the Western Counties the plant is known as Organ-herb, and is much prized by old-women herbalists as a blood purifier. According to an ancient recipe, Organ broth was used in witchcraft to make people see double.——In Sicily, children put Pennyroyal in their cots on Christmas Day, under the belief that at the exact hour and minute when the infant Jesus was born this plant puts forth its blossom. The same wonder is repeated on Midsummer Night. In Sicily, also, Pennyroyal is given to husbands and wives who quarrel.——According to astrologers, Pennyroyal is a herb of Venus.

PEONY.—The Peony, or healing plant (Pæonia), commemorates the Homeric god Pæon, the first physician of the gods, who healed the divinities Ares and Hades of their wounds. Tradition asserts that the Peony is the floral descendant of Pæon, who was a pupil of the great Æsculapius. Pæon first received the flower on Mount Olympus, from the hands of the mother of Apollo, and by its means he cured Pluto of a wound he had received from Hercules; but this cure created so much jealousy in the breast of Æsculapius, that he secretly caused the death of Pæon. Pluto, however, retained a grateful sense of his service, and so transformed his body into the flower which to-day bears his name.——Rapin has a totally different tale to tell as to the origin of the blooming Peony, although from what source he derived his information we are unable to discover. According to the French poet, Pæonia is a nymph whose crimson hue is not the blush of modesty, but the tell-tale witness of the sin of a shepherdess of Alcinous, King of Phæacia, who seems to have been unable to withstand the amorous advances of the Sun-god.——In the emblematic language of flowers, the Peony is the representative of bashful shame.——Speaking of the Peony, Rapin says:—

“Erect in all her crimson pomp you’ll see
With bushy leaves the graceful Piony,
Whose blushes might the praise of virtue claim,
But her vile scent betrays they rise from shame.
Happy her form, and innocent her red,
If, while Alcinous’ bleating flock she fed,
An heavenly lover had not sought her bed;
’Twas Phœbus’ crime, who to his arms allured
A maid from all mankind by pride secured.”

The ancient Greeks held the Peony in great repute, believing its origin to have been divine. It was thought to have been an emanation from the moon, and that the flower shone during the night, chased away evil spirits, and protected the dwellings of those who cultivated it. Hence, in later days, it came to be ranked as a miraculous plant; and it was thought that evil spirits would shun the spot where it was planted, and that even a small piece of the root, worn round the neck as an amulet, would protect the wearer from all kinds of enchantment. To this day, in Sussex, necklaces of beads turned from the Peony-root are worn by young children, to prevent convulsions and assist them in teething. Apuleius states that the Peony is a powerful remedy for insanity. Lord Bacon tells us, in his ‘Natural History,’ that “it hath beene long received, and confirmed by divers trialls, that the root of the male Piony dried, tied to the necke, doth help the falling sicknesse, and likewise the incubus, which we call the Mare. The cause of both these diseases, and especially of the epilepsie from the stomach, is the grossenesse of the vapours, which rise and enter into the cells of the braine; and therefore the working is by extreme and subtill alternation, which that simple hath.”——In Germany, the Peony is the Pentecostal Rose.——Astrologers say that both male and female Peonies are herbs of the Sun, and under the Lion.

PERIWINKLE.—In France, the Periwinkle is considered the emblem of the pleasures of memory and sincere friendship, probably in allusion to Rousseau’s recollection of his friend Madame de Warens, occasioned, after a lapse of thirty years, by the sight of the Periwinkle in flower, which they had once admired together.——In Italy, garlands of Periwinkle are placed upon the biers of deceased children, for which reason the plant has acquired the name of the Flower of Death; but in Germany it becomes the symbol of immortality.——Culpeper, in his ‘Herbal,’ says that the Periwinkle is owned by Venus, and that the leaves eaten together by man and wife, cause love between them.

PESTILENCE WEED.—The Butterbur Coltsfoot (Tussilago Petasites) obtained the name of Pestilence Weed from its having in olden times been held in great repute as a sovereign remedy for the plague and pestilent fever.

PHYTOLACCA.—A species of Phytolacca found by M. Lévy in Nicaragua in 1876, and named by him P. electrica, may well be called the electrifying plant. The discoverer, when gathering a branch, experienced a veritable electric shock. Experimenting with a compass, he found the needle was agitated at a distance of eight paces, and became more so the nearer he approached; the action changing to a rapid gyratory motion when he finally placed the compass in the midst of the shrub. There was nothing in the soil to account for what may be termed the “shocking” proclivities of the shrub, which are slight in the night-time, becoming gradually intensified until about two o’clock p.m. In stormy weather, the intensity of action is increased, and the plant presents a withered appearance until the fall of rain. Neither insect nor bird was seen by M. Lévy to approach this terrible shrub.

Pick-purse, or Pick-pocket.—(See Shepherd’s Purse).

PIMPERNEL.—The scarlet Pimpernel (Anagallis arvensis) is well known as the Poor Man’s Weather-glass, or Shepherd’s Barometer; both names having been given on account of the plant invariably closing its petals before and during rain. Darwin alludes to this peculiarity of the Pimpernel in the following lines:—

“Closed is the pink-eyed Pimpernel;
In fiery red the sun doth rise,
Then wades through clouds to mount the skies;
’Twill surely rain—we see’t with sorrow,
No working in the fields to-morrow.”

Besides being a barometrical, the Pimpernel is a horological, plant, opening its petals about 7 a.m., and closing them about 2 p.m. The plant was also considered a surgical plant, inasmuch as the old herbalists ascribed to it the power of drawing out arrows which were embedded in the flesh, as well as thorns and splinters, or “other such like things.” The bruised leaves were believed to cure persons bitten by mad dogs, and the juices of the plant were considered efficacious in complaints of the eyes, and in hypochondriacal cases. Its manifold virtues have passed into a proverb:—

“No ear hath heard, no tongue can tell,
The virtues of the Pimpernell.”

Pliny records that sheep avoided the blue, and ate the scarlet, Pimpernel, and that if, by mistake, they ate the blue, they immediately sought for a plant which is now unknown. In Dyer’s ‘English Folk Lore,’ it is stated that, according to a MS. on magic, preserved in the Chetham Library, Manchester, “the herb Pimpernell is good to prevent witchcraft, as Mother Bumby doth affirme.” The following lines may be used when it is gathered:—

“Herbe Pimpernell, I have thee found,
Growing upon Christ Jesus’ ground:
The same guift the Lord Jesus gave unto thee,
When He shed His blood on the tree.
Arise up, Pimpernel, and goe with me,
And God blesse me,
And all that shall were thee. Amen.”

“Saying this fifteen dayes together, twice a day, morning earlye fasting, and in the evening full.”——Pimpernel is considered to be a herb of the Sun.

PINE.—The Pine was called the tree of Cybele (or Rhea), the mother of the gods. She was passionately fond of Atys, a Phrygian shepherd, and entrusted him with the care of her temple, under a vow that he should always live in celibacy. This vow, however, Atys violated by an amour with the nymph Sangaris, upon which he became delirious, and mutilated himself with a sharp stone. Then, as he was about to lay violent hands upon himself, Cybele transformed him into a Pine-tree. Ovid records that—

“To Rhea grateful still the Pine remains,
For Atys still some favour she retains;
He once in human shape her breast had warmed,
And now is cherished to a tree transformed.”

Rapin considers the Pine to have been regarded by the ancients as a sacred tree. He says—

“Old Cybele changed her Atys to a Pine,
Which, sacred there to her, was held divine.”

After the metamorphosis of Atys into the Pine, Cybele sought refuge beneath the tree’s branches, and sat mourning there the loss of her faithless lover, until Jupiter promised that the Pine should remain ever green. It was tied to a Pine-tree, that Marsyas, the Phrygian flute-player, met his death. He became enamoured of Cybele, and journeyed with her as far as Nysa. Here

“He Phœbus’ self, the harmonious god, defied,
And urged to have their skill in music tried.
Phœbus accepts the challenge, but decreed,
The boaster vanquished should alive be flayed;
And Marsyas vanquished (so the poet sung)
Was flayed alive, and on a Pine-tree hung.”—Rapin.

The Pine was dedicated to Bacchus, and at the Dionysian festivals the votaries sometimes wore garlands of its foliage: its cone is frequently represented surmounting the god’s thyrsus, possibly as being symbolic of fecundity and reproduction. The connection of the Pine with Bacchus is still maintained by the Greeks, who place the cones in their wine vats, to preserve and flavour the wine by means of the resin. The Pine-cone was considered a symbol of the heart of Zagræus, who was destroyed by the Titans, and whose ashes were given to Semele, the mother of Bacchus.——We find the Pine also dedicated to Pan, because Pitys, one of the many nymphs whom he loved, was changed into that tree, to escape the importunities of Boreas.——The wood of the Pine was employed in the construction of the first boats: hence the tree was also sacred to the sea-god Neptune.——Ovid introduces Pan as “crowned with a pointed leaf of Pine-leaf,” in reference to the sharpness of its narrow leaves. The length and straightness of its trunk, and freedom from branches, rendered it a suitable walking staff for the giant Polyphemus (Æn. iii.); and Turnus (from the resinous nature of this tree) is represented as raising a flaming brand of Pine-wood to set on fire the ships of the Trojans.——In Assyrian monuments, we find the Pine-cone offered to the god guarding life.——According to a Roman legend, two lovers who had died of love and were buried in the same cemetery, were changed, the one into a Pine, the other into a Vine, and were thus enabled to continue their fond embraces.——Prof. De Gubernatis remarks that, despite the legend of St. Martin, written by Sulpicius, who represented the Pine as a diabolic tree, Christianity itself has consecrated it. The town of Augsburg, which has for its badge a Pine-cone, is under the protection of St. Afra. In Sicily, they believe that the form of a hand is to be seen in the interior of the fruit—the hand of Jesus blessing the Pine which had saved Him during the flight into Egypt by screening Him and His mother from Herod’s soldiers.——At Ahorn, near Coburg, a frightful wind sent by a sorceress had bent the church steeple, which thus became an object of derision to the inhabitants of the surrounding villages. A shepherd, to save his village from such a standing reproach, attached a short rope to a Pine, which the inhabitants still pointed out in Nork’s time, and by dint of invocations and magical imprecations succeeded in straightening the steeple. Nork adds that in the year 1300, at Krain, near a convent, a statue of the Madonna, concealed in the trunk of a Pine, miraculously made itself heard by a priest: on that account a church has been erected in honour of the Virgin, in the immediate vicinity.——King Crœsus threatened the inhabitants of Lampsacus that the destruction of their town should be as complete as a felled Pine, which, once cut down, never sprouts out again. The comparison was particularly apt, inasmuch as the town of Lampsachus was reputed to have been formerly called Pityusa—“the place planted with Pines.”——In a Pompeian design, we find a rural Cupid with a crown of Pine. Ovid crowns the Fauns with Pine. Virgil calls the Pine Pronuba, because the torches used at weddings were made of Pine-wood.——In the hymn of Callimachus to Diana, virgins are represented as wearing chaplets of Pine.——The Pine-cone unopened symbolised virginity.——In Podolia, in Little Russia, the bride-cake is ornamented with sprigs of Pine.——In Japan, the Pine has become a symbol of constancy and conjugal fidelity, because it is always verdant, even beneath the snow.——The Pine is a funereal tree, and, as is the case with all others of its class, it symbolises immortality and generation. Like the Cypress and the Fir, on account of the durability of its wood and its evergreen foliage, it represents the perpetuity of life,—a symbol that appears singularly in keeping with the funereal rites of a people who believed in the immortality of the soul.——In Russia, when the coffin is being carried to the cemetery, it is covered with branches of Pine or Fir.——The Fijian believes that, after death, the spirit, with his war-club and a whale’s tooth, journeys to the world’s end: there grows the sacred Pine, and at it the spirit hurls his whale’s tooth. If he strikes it, he proceeds on his way rejoicing, but if he misses his mark, his further progress is stopped.——Crowns of Pine were worn by victors at the Isthmian games.——The Pine was one of the trees ordered to be used by the Jews in erecting their tents at the Feast of the Tabernacles.——According to tradition, the Pine seen in a dream portends dissolution.

PINK.—The Pink (Dianthus) has been said to derive its name from the Dutch word Pinkster—Whitsuntide—the season at which a species called of old the Whitsuntide Gilliflower, is in flower. In Bologna, however, the flower is held sacred to St. Peter, who is believed to have been partial to it above all others; the 29th of June is there considered to be the day of Pinks.——In an old work quoted by Alphonse Karr, the author recommends the water distilled from Pinks as an excellent remedy against epilepsy, and adds: “but if a conserve be composed of it, it is the life and delight of the human race.” A vinegar made of Pinks was formerly prized for its efficacy against the plague.

Pixie-stool.—See Toadstool.

PLANE.—The Plane-tree (Platanus orientalis) was specially venerated in Greece. In the school of Plato, the philosophers used to walk and converse under the shadow of these delightful trees.——Pausanias mentions a Plane tree of extraordinary size and beauty in Arcadia, supposed to have been planted by Menelaus thirteen hundred years before.——The Plane was held sacred to Helen, the wife of Menelaus.——Evelyn gives an account of the passion conceived by Xerxes for a Plane-tree. Whilst marching through Lydia, he is said to have stopped his vast army of 1,700,000 soldiers, that he might admire the beauty of one of these trees, and became so enamoured of it, that, spoiling both himself, his concubines, and great persons, of all their jewels, he covered it with gold, gems, necklaces, scarfs, bracelets, and infinite riches. For some days, neither the concerns of his portentous army, nor the objects of his expedition, could divert his thoughts from the stately tree, and when at length he was forced to leave it, he caused the figure of it to be stamped on a medal of gold, which he continually wore about him.——In Greece, when lovers are obliged to separate, they exchange, as a gage of fidelity, the halves of a leaf of the Plane. When they meet again, each one produces the half-leaf, and they then fit them together.

PLANTAIN.—According to Grimm, the Plantain or Waybread (like the Endive or Succory—the German Wegewarte) is said to have been once a maiden, who, worn out with constantly watching the roadway for her lover, was changed into a plant, that still clings to a position by the wayside. In Devonshire, they say that once in seven years it becomes a bird—either the cuckoo or its helpmate, known as the “dinnick,” which is said to follow the cuckoo wherever it goes.——In Aargau, the Plantain is called Irrwurzel, and the peasantry there ascribe to it the power of disordering the wits.——The Greeks called the plant “Lamb’s-tongue,” and no less a personage than Alexander the Great ascribed to it magical properties, and asserted that its root was marvellously potent in the cure of headaches. According to Macer Floridus, a root suspended round the neck prevented scrofula; and Dioscorides affirmed that the water derived from three roots cured the tertian, and from four the quartan ague.——In England, the Plantain or Waybread has always had a high reputation as a vulnerary. Chaucer notices it as an application to wounds, and Shakspeare makes Romeo, when referring to a broken shin, say, “Your Plantain-leaf is excellent for that.” Clare, in his ‘Shepherd’s Calendar,’ recounts the following rustic divination common among the Midland country-folk:—

“Or, trying simple charms and spells,
Which rural superstition tells,
They pull the little blossom threads
From out the Knotweed’s button heads,
And put the husk, with many a smile,
In their white bosoms for awhile.
Then, if they guess aright the swain,
Their love’s sweet fancies try to gain,
’Tis said that ere it lies an hour,
’Twill blossom with a second flower,
And from the bosom’s handkerchief,
Bloom as it ne’er had lost a leaf.”

In Henderson’s ‘Folk Lore of the Northern Counties’ is an account of a curious rustic divination practised in Berwickshire by means of kemps or spikes of the Ribwort Plantain. Two spikes—one to represent the lad, the other the lass—are plucked when in full bloom, and after all the blossom has been carefully removed, the kemps should be wrapped in a Dock-leaf and laid under a stone. If the spikes shall have again blossomed when visited the next morning, the popular belief is that there will be “Aye love between them twae.”——Plantain is held by astrologers to be under the rule of Venus.

PLUM.—The Japanese, once a year, hold a popular festival in honour of the Plum-tree.——To dream of Plums is said to augur but little good to the dreamer: they are the forerunners of ill-health, and prognosticate losses, infidelity, and sickness, and much vexation in the married state.

POLYPODIUM.—According to a German tradition, the Polypodium vulgare sprang from the milk that the goddess Freyja, and after her the Virgin Mary, let fall on the earth.

POMEGRANATE.—The fruit of the Pomegranate has always been highly prized in the East. Rapin says of it:—

“Succeeding fruit attend the blossoms’ fall,
Each represents a crown upon a ball;
A thousand seeds with Tyrian scarlet dyed,
And ranged by nature’s art in cells they hide.”

The Pomegranate was one of the plants assigned to Bacchus, and the origin of the tree is said to be due to a nameless nymph, beloved by Bacchus, to whom a priest had foretold that she should wear a crown. Bacchus kept the letter, but not the spirit of this prophecy, for, instead of espousing the betrayed maiden, he transformed her into a Pomegranate-tree, and twisted up the calyx of the blossom into the crown-like form it has ever since retained. Rapin relates the story as follows:—

“The story’s short how first this fruit obtained
A graceful crown, and was with purple stained.
A royal nymph there was of Tyrian race,
A Moor, indeed, but formed with every grace,
Her native colour knew; yet fate denied
Indulgence equal to her beauty’s pride.
Filled with ambitious thoughts she pressed to know
What gifts the gods would on her charms bestow.
Ravished she heard the ambiguous priest declare
She should a crown and purple garments wear;
Fancied that hence a kingdom must arise,
Deceived by words and flattering prophecies.
For when the god of wine in triumph came,
Laden with Indian spoils to court the dame,
He soon beguiled her with a husband’s name.
Baulked of her hopes, her virgin honour stained,
By favour of her god at last she gained
To be transformed to this imperial plant—
The only honour which the prophet meant.”

Oppian gives another legend as to the origin of the Pomegranate, according to which, a man having lost his first wife, became enamoured of his daughter Side (Greek for Pomegranate-tree): to escape his cruel persecution, the unfortunate young girl killed herself; but the gods, compassionating her, metamorphosed Side into the Pomegranate-tree, and her unnatural father into a sparrow-hawk: so, according to Oppian, the sparrow-hawk will never alight upon the Pomegranate, but always persistently shuns the tree.——According to M. Lenormant, the Pomegranate sprang from the blood of Adgestis. The name Rimmon (Pomegranate) was that given in certain parts of Syria, near Damascus, to the young god, who died but to spring into a new life—reminding one of the story of Adonis.——The great number of seeds which the fruit of the Pomegranate contains has caused it to become the symbol of fecundity, generation, and wealth. Probably on this account the plant was sacred to Juno, the patroness of marriage and riches. In the Isle of Eubœa, there was formerly a statue of this goddess, holding in one hand a sceptre, and in the other a Pomegranate. Prof. De Gubernatis suggests that the uterine form of the opened Pomegranate is the reason why Pausanias, after having said that Juno held a Pomegranate in her hand, adds, that she did not wish to divulge the mystery which appertained to this symbolic fruit. This is also the reason why (according to Cicero) Proserpine did not wish to leave the infernal regions without having eaten the Pomegranate which she plucked from a tree growing in the Elysian Fields. Ceres, inconsolable for the loss of her daughter, had begged Jupiter to release her from the power of Pluto. Jupiter decreed that if Proserpine had not tasted any food in the infernal regions, she might be restored to her mother; but, as Ovid tells us, by an unfortunate mischance,

“As in the garden’s shady walk she strayed,
A fair Pomegranate charmed the simple maid,
Hung in her way, and tempting her to taste,
She plucked the fruit and took a short repast.
Seven times, a seed at once, she eat the food:
The fact Asculaphus had only viewed.
He saw what passed, and, by discovering all,
Detained the ravished nymph in cruel thrall.”

Ceres, enraged, would not permit the earth to yield any fruits till her daughter was restored to her, and Jupiter at last decided that Proserpine should spend six months of the year with her mother, but as she had partaken of the Stygian Pomegranate, she was to stay the other six months with Pluto.——A legend states that from having been planted on the grave of King Eteocles, the fruit of the Pomegranate has ever since exuded blood. Another account relates that the blood of the Pomegranate had its origin in the life-blood of the suicide Menœceus. On account of this blood which seems to flow from its fruit, the Pomegranate has acquired a somewhat sinister signification. As a rule, however, the sanguineous juice and innumerable seeds of the Pomegranate are considered a happy augury of fecundity and abundance.——There is a tradition that the fruit of the Tree of Life presented by Eve to Adam was the Pomegranate. It is also the opinion of some, that Paris adjudged a Pomegranate to Venus, and not an Apple; and that nearly always where the latter fruit is alluded to in legends or popular customs relating to marriage, the Pomegranate is meant.——In Turkey, the bride throws a Pomegranate on the ground, and from the number of seeds which exude from the broken fruit judges of the extent of her future family.——In Dalmatia, it is the custom for a young man, when asking the hand of his bride from her parents, to speak figuratively, and so he vows to transplant into his own garden the beautiful red flowers of the Pomegranate which are then flourishing in the paternal parterre.——In Sicily, they use a branch of the Pomegranate-tree as a divining-rod to discover hidden treasures: it is reported to be unfailing provided that it is manipulated by an expert or by some one who knows the mystical formulary.——Many references to the Pomegranate are to be found in the Bible, where it is usually associated with the idea of fruitfulness. Moses described the promised land as a land of Wheat and Barley, and Vines, and Fig-trees, and Pomegranates; a land of oil-Olive and honey. Solomon speaks of “an orchard of Pomegranates with pleasant fruits.” It was used to flavour wine and meats, and a wine was made from its juice: “I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine of the juice of my Pomegranate” (Canticles viii., 2). The Jews employed the fruit in their religious ceremonials. The capitals of the pillars in the Temple of Jerusalem were covered with carved Pomegranates. On the hem of Aaron’s sacred robe were embroidered, in blue, in purple, and in scarlet, Pomegranates, alternating with golden bells. A similar adornment of the fringes of their robes was affected by the ancient Kings of Persia, who united in their own person the regal and sacerdotal offices.——In Christian art, the Pomegranate depicted as bursting open, and the seeds visible, was an emblem of the future—of hope in immortality. St. Catherine, as the mystical Sposa of Christ, is sometimes represented with a Pomegranate in her hand; and the infant Saviour is often depicted holding this fruit and presenting it to the Virgin.——Moore speaks of the “charmed leaf of pure Pomegranate,” in allusion to the Persian idea as to its purifying attributes. In the ceremonies of the Ghebers (fire-worshippers) round their sacred fire, the Darvo gives them water to drink and Pomegranate-leaf to chew in their mouth, to cleanse them from inward uncleanness.——The Pomegranate was the device of Henry IV., who took it from the Moorish kings of Grenada, with the motto, “Sour, yet sweet.” The crown-like shape of its calyx probably induced Anne of Austria to adopt it, with the motto, “My worth is not in my crown.” The Pomegranate was the emblem of Katherine of Arragon, and in one of the masques held in honour of her marriage with our Henry VIII., a bank of Roses and Pomegranates typified the union of England and Spain. Her daughter, Queen Mary, took the Pomegranate and white and red Roses.——Parkinson tells us that from the rind of the Pomegranate is made writing-ink “which is durable to the world’s end.”——The Athenian matrons, during the Thesmophoria (festivals in honour of Ceres), were expressly forbidden to eat Pomegranates.——To dream of Pomegranates is a fortunate augury, foretelling good fortune and success; to the lover such a dream implies a faithful and accomplished sweetheart, and to the married an increase of riches and children, and great success in trade.

Poor Man’s Parmacetty.—See Shepherd’s Purse.

POPLAR.—In allusion to the reputed origin of this tree, René Rapin, in his poem on Gardens, says:—

“Nor must the Heliads’ fate in silence pass,
Whose sorrow first produced the Poplar race;
Their tears, while at a brother’s grave they mourn,
To golden drops of fragrant Amber turn.”

The Heliades, sisters of the rash Phaëthon (who had yoked the horses to the chariot of the Sun before his fatal drive), on finding his tomb upon the banks of the river Po, became distracted with grief, and for four days and nights kept mournful watch with their disconsolate mother around the grave. Tired out with their exhausting vigil, they endeavoured at length to obtain some repose for their weary limbs, when to their dismay they found them rooted to the ground. The gods, pitying their intense grief, had changed the seven sisters into Poplars, and their tears into Amber. Ovid thus narrates the incident:—

“Each nymph in wild affliction, as she grieves,
Would rend her hair, but fills her hand with leaves;
One sees her limbs transformed, another views
Her arms shot out and branching into boughs,
And now their legs, and breasts, and bodies stood
Crusted with bark and hardening into wood.
* * * * * * * *
Then the bark increased,
Closed in their faces, and their words suppressed.
The new-made trees in tears of Amber run,
Which, hardened into value by the sun,
Distil for ever on the streams below;
The limpid streams their radiant treasure show,
Mixed in the sand; whence the rich drops conveyed
Shine in the dress of the bright Latian maid.”—Addison.

The species of Poplar into which the Heliades were transformed was the Black Poplar (Populus nigra). This Poplar was consecrated to the goddess Proserpine. The White Poplar was considered to be an antidote to the bite of a serpent, and was dedicated to Hercules, who sometimes wore a crown of Poplar-leaves. When the demi-god destroyed Cacus in a cavern on Mount Aventine, which was covered with Poplars, he bound a branch of one round his brow in token of his victory. On his return from Hades, he wore a crown of Poplar-leaves, the outer portions of which were turned black by the smoke of the infernal regions, whilst the inner surface was blanched by the perspiration from the hero’s brow. At all ceremonies and sacrifices to Hercules, his worshippers wore garlands of Poplar-leaves, as did those who had triumphed in battle, in commemoration of the demi-god’s victory. Groves of Poplar-trees were frequently planted and dedicated to Hercules.——The White Poplar was also dedicated to Time, because its leaves were constantly in motion, and, being dark on one side and light on the other, they were emblematic of night and day.——Of the wood of this tree the Romans made bucklers, on account of its lightness, and covered them with ox-hides: hence, Pliny says, Populus apta scutis.——The prophet Hosea is thought to have referred to the White Poplar when he accused the Children of Israel of sacrificing and burning incense under Poplars “because the shadow thereof is good” (Hosea iv.)——The similarity of sound, in Latin and French, between the words for “Poplar” and “People” seems to be the reason which has led to the tree being regarded as a republican emblem. In the French Revolution of 1848, Poplars were transplanted from gardens, and set up in the squares of Paris, where they were glorified as Trees of Liberty, and hung with wreaths of Everlasting Flowers. Napoleon III. had them all uprooted and burnt.——Under the head of Aspen will be found several legends respecting the quivering foliage of the Populus tremula—the “Quiggen-epsy” of the good folk of Ulster. Mrs. Hemans, in her ‘Wood Walk,’ thus alludes to one of these old traditions, in which the Cross of Christ is represented as having been made of the wood of this species of Poplar:—

“Father.—Hast thou heard, my boy,
The peasant’s legend of that quivering tree?
“Child.—No, father; doth he say the fairies dance
Amidst its branches?
“Father.—Oh! a cause more deep,
More solemn far, the rustic doth assign
To the strange restlessness of those wan leaves.
The Cross he deems—the blessed Cross, whereon
The meek Redeemer bow’d His head to death—
Was formed of Aspen wood; and since that hour
Through all its race the pale tree hath sent down
A thrilling consciousness, a secret awe
Making them tremulous, when not a breeze
Disturbs the airy Thistle-down, or shakes
The light lines from the shining gossamer.”

Among the Highlanders, there is a tradition that the Cross of Christ was made of the wood of the White Poplar, and throughout Christendom there is a belief that the tree trembles and shivers mystically in sympathy with the ancestral tree which became accursed.——The Greeks regarded the Poplar as a funereal tree. In the funeral games at Rhodes, the victor was crowned with Poplar leaves consecrated to the Manes.——Like several other funereal trees, the Poplar has become a symbol of generation. Thus, in Bologna, at the birth of a girl, the parents, if able, will plant one thousand Poplar-trees, which they religiously tend till the maiden marries, when they are cut down, and the price given as a marriage portion to the bride. Alphonse Karr says that a similar custom exists in certain northern countries among the better class of farmers.——In Sicily, and especially at Monterosso, near Modica, on Midsummer Eve, the people fell the highest Poplar, and with shouts, drag it through the village. Numbers of the villagers mount the trunk during its progress, beating a drum. Around this great Poplar, symbolising the greatest solar ascension and the decline which follows it, the crowd dance and sing an appropriate refrain.——Astrologers state that the Poplar is under the dominion of Saturn.

POPPY.—The origin of the Poppy (Papaver) was attributed by the ancient Greeks to Ceres, who, despairing of regaining her daughter Proserpine, carried off by Pluto, created the flower, in order that by partaking of it she might obtain sleep, and thus forget her great grief. Browne thus speaks of this legend:—

“Sleep-bringing Poppy, by the plowman late,
Not without cause to Ceres consecrate.
* * * * * * * *
Fairest Proserpine was rapt away,
And she in plaints the night, in tears the day,
Had long time spent: when no high power could give her
Any redresse, the Poppy did relieve her:
For eating of the seeds, they sleep procured,
And so beguiled those griefs she long endured.”

The ancients considered the Papaver Rhæa, or Corn-Rose, so necessary for the prosperity of their Corn, that the seeds of this Poppy were offered up in the sacred rites of Ceres, whose garland was formed with Barley or bearded Wheat interwoven with Poppies. The goddess is sometimes depicted holding Poppies in her hand. The somniferous and quieting effects of the Poppy, which were well known to the Greeks, probably led them to represent the deities Hypnos (Sleep), Thanatos (Death), and Nyx (Night), either as crowned with Poppies, or holding Poppies in their hands.——Rapin, speaking of the effects of the Poppy as a narcotic, says:—

“The powerful seeds, when pressed, afford a juice.
In med’cine famous, and of sovereign use,
Whether in tedious nights it charm to rest,
Or bind the stubborn cough and ease the lab’ring breast.”

It was customary with the Romans, to offer Poppies to the dead, especially to those whose names they were desirous of appeasing. Virgil, in his ‘Georgics,’ calls the flower the Lethean Poppy, and directs it to be offered as a funeral rite to Orpheus. The Grecian youths and maidens were wont to prove the sincerity of their lovers by placing in the hollow of the palm of the left hand a petal or flower-leaf of the Poppy, which, on being struck with the other hand, was broken with a sharp sound: this denoted true attachment; but if the leaf failed to snap, unfaithfulness. From Greece, this usage passed to Rome, and finally to modern Italy, where, as well as in Switzerland, it is still extant.

“By a prophetic Poppy leaf I found
Your changed affection, for it gave no sound,
Though in my hand struck hollow as it lay,
But quickly withered like your love away.”—Theocritus.

A superstitious belief exists that the red Poppies which followed the ploughing of the field of Waterloo after Wellington’s victory sprang from the blood of the troops who fell during the battle.——According to a Bengali legend, the origin of Opium was as follows:—There once lived on the banks of the holy river Ganga a Rishi, or sage, in whose hut, made of Palm-leaves, there was a mouse, which became a favourite with the seer, and was endowed by him with the gift of speech. After awhile, the mouse, having been frightened by a cat, at his earnest solicitation, was changed by the Rishi into a cat; then, alarmed by dogs, into a dog; then into an ape; then into a boar; then into an elephant; and finally, being still discontented with its lot, into a beautiful maiden, to whom the holy sage gave the name of Postomani, or the Poppy-seed lady. One day, whilst tending her plants, the king approached the Rishi’s cottage, and was invited to rest and refresh himself by Postomani, who offered him some delicious fruit. The King, however, struck by the girl’s beauty, refused to eat until she had told him her parentage. Postomani, to deceive the king, told him she was a princess whom the Rishi had found in the woods and had brought up. The upshot was that the king made love to the girl, and they were married by the holy sage. She was treated as the favourite queen, and was very happy; but one day, whilst standing by a well, she turned giddy, fell into the water, and died. The Rishi then appeared before the king, and begged him not to give way to consuming grief, assuring him that the late queen was not of royal blood. Said he: “She was born a mouse, and, according to her own wish, I changed her successively into a cat, a dog, a boar, an elephant, and a lovely girl. Let her body remain in the well; fill up the well with earth. Out of her flesh and bones will grow a tree, which shall be called after her Posto, that is, the Poppy-tree. From this tree will be obtained a drug called Opium, which will be celebrated through all ages, and which will be either swallowed or smoked as a wondrous narcotic till the end of time. The Opium swallower or smoker will have one quality of each of the animals to which Postomani was transformed. He will be mischievous like a mouse, fond of milk like a cat, quarrelsome like a dog, filthy like an ape, savage like a boar, and high-tempered like a queen.”——According to astrologers, the Poppy is a flower of the Moon.

POTATO.—Although introduced into Europe as late as 1584, the Potato (Solanum tuberosum) has been made the subject of several popular superstitions. In Birmingham and many other districts, it is believed that a Potato carried in the trousers pocket is a sure charm against rheumatism so long as the tuber is kept there; and the Dutch believed that a Potato begged or stolen is a preservation against the same malady.——In Germany, they take precautions against the Potato demon or wolf (Kartoffelwolf): after the last Potatoes have been dug up, the peasants dress up a puppet which they call Erdapfelmann, and carry the figure in procession to the house of their master, where they recite a doggrel verse. A luminosity, powerful enough to enable a bystander to read by, issues from the common Potato when in a state of putrefaction; this was particularly remarked by an officer on guard at Strasburg, who thought the barracks were on fire in consequence of the light that was emitted from a cellar full of Potatoes.

Prick Madam.—See Stonecrop.

Priest’s Pintle.—See Arum.

PRIMROSE.—Anciently the Primrose was called Paralisos, after the name of a handsome stripling, the son of Priapus and Flora, who died of grief for the loss of his betrothed Melicerta, but was snatched from the jaws of death by his parents, and metamorphosed into “the rathe Primrose that forsaken dies.”——The name Primrose anciently appertained to the Daisy, and is written by Chaucer Primerole, from the old French Primeverole, the first Spring flower; Primerole became changed to Primrolles, and then to Primrose, the first Rose of Spring; and it was not until the sixteenth century that it attached itself to the flower which now bears its name.——In Worcestershire, it is regarded as exceedingly unlucky in Spring-time to take less than a handful of Primroses or Violets into a farmer’s house, as a disregard of this rule is popularly believed to invite destruction of the good wife’s brood of ducklings and chickens.——In East Norfolk, it is thought that if a less number of Primroses than thirteen be brought into a house on the first occasion of introducing any, so many eggs only will each goose hatch that season.——Henderson, in his ‘Folk-lore of the Northern Counties,’ gives the following superstitious custom: “Let a youth or maiden pull from its stalk the flower, and after cutting off the tops of the stamens with a pair of scissors, lay it in a secret place where no human eye can see it. Let him think through the day and dream through the night of his sweetheart; and then, upon looking at it the next day, if he find the stamens shot out to their former height, success will attend him in love; if not, he can only expect disappointment.”——Browne tells us—

“The Primrose, when with six leaves gotten grace,
Maids as a true-love in their bosoms place.”

Shakspeare makes it a funeral flower for youth:—

“With fairest flowers
Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,
I’ll sweeten thy sad grave: thou shalt not lack
The flower that’s like thy face, pale Primrose.”

In recent times, the Primrose has become associated with the memory of Lord Beaconsfield, and a society called the “Primrose League” has been formed, having for its object the dissemination of those constitutional principles which were so dear to the late Earl.——In Germany, the Primrose is called the Schlüsselblume, or Key-flower, in reference to the numerous legends of a flower opening the locks of doors to treasure-caves, &c.; resembling in its magical functions the Russian Rasrivtrava, the Eisenkraut (Vervain), the Fern, Mistletoe, Hazel, Springwort, and Moonwort.——The goddess Bertha is supposed to entice children to enter her enchanted halls by offering them beautiful Primroses.——Astrologers claim the Primrose as a herb of Venus.

Procession Flower.—See Milkwort.

PTERIS ESCULENTA.—The New Zealand tohunga, or priest, professes the following rite to be a cure for headache. The officiant pulls out two stalks of the Pteris esculenta, from which the fibres of the root must be removed; and beating them together over the patient’s head, he offers a prayer to Atua.

Puck-fist.—See Toadstool.

PULSATILLA.—In the Ukraine, the Pulsatilla patens is called Sontrava, the Dream-plant. It is believed by the people of the country that the flowers of this plant, which blossoms in the month of April, if placed between the pillow and the bed, will cause the sleeper to dream of what will undoubtedly be accomplished.

PUMPKIN.—Among the East Indians, there is a legend that there once existed a mighty man named Iaïa, whose only son died. The father wished to bury him, but did not know where. So he placed him in an enormous Pumpkin, which he conveyed to the foot of a mountain, not far from his habitation. Impelled by his love for the departed one, he one day had the curiosity to revisit the spot, and, desirous of once again seeing his son, he opened the Pumpkin. Immediately whales and other immense fish jumped out. Iaïa, affrighted, returned home, and told what he had seen to his neighbours, adding that the Pumpkin appeared to be filled with water and quantities of fish. Four brothers who had been born at one time rushed off in haste to the spot indicated, in order to secure the fish for food. Iaïa followed, to prevent them from injuring the Pumpkin. The brothers, who had succeeded in lifting the gigantic vegetable, were frightened at seeing Iaïa approach, and let fall the Pumpkin, which was, in consequence, cracked in several places. From the fissures thus made poured forth such a volume of water, that the whole earth was inundated: and from this circumstance the oceans were formed.——The Chinese honour the Pumpkin or Gourd as the emperor of vegetables. The vegetable was considered by the ancients to be an emblem of abundance, fecundity, prosperity, and good health. To dream of Pumpkins, however, is considered a very bad omen.

Purification Flower.—See Snowdrop.

PURSLANE.—Purslane (Portulaca), strewn about a bed, used in olden times to be considered a sure protection against evil spirits.——Astrologers classify it among the herbs of the Moon.

QUINCE.—The fruit of the Quince-tree (Cydonia) was consecrated to Venus, and was looked upon by Grecian lovers as a love token. According to Athenæus, the chariot of the goddess of Love was not only filled with Myrtles and Roses, but also with Quinces, and in many ancient effigies of the goddess, she is represented with a Quince in her hand. By a decree of Solon, which gave to an ancient popular custom the countenance of the law, a Grecian bride, before seeking the nuptial couch, had to eat a Quince.——The Greeks called the Quince Chrysomelon, or Golden Apple; hence it is not surprising to find it asserted that the golden fruit of the Hesperides were Quinces, and that these tempted Hercules to attack the guardian dragon. In confirmation of this opinion, a statue of the demi-god holding a Quince in his hand as a trophy is referred to. It is also alleged that it was by means of Quinces given to him by Venus, that Hippomenes beguiled Atalanta during his race with her, and so won it.——It was by means of a Quince that Acontius won his bride: this youth, when at Delos, to attend the sacrifices of Diana, fell in love with the beautiful Cydippe: fearing to demand her hand, on account of his obscure origin, the crafty lover threw into the Temple of Diana, whilst Cydippe was performing her devotions, a Quince, with this inscription:—“I swear, by the divinity of Diana, to become the wife of Acontius.” The young girl, having picked up the Quince, read aloud the inscription, and, being compelled by the oath she had thus inadvertently taken in the sacred presence of the goddess, she obtained her parents’ consent to marry the quick-witted Acontius.——Turner, in his ‘Brittish Physician,’ says that the juice of raw Quince is accounted an antidote against deadly poison.——To dream of Quinces is stated to be favourable to the dreamer, denoting speedy release from troubles, sickness, &c.

QUICKEN-TREE.—The Mountain Ash, Wild Service, or Rowan-tree (Pyrus aucuparia), is also known by the names of the Quicken or Quick-beam, Witchen or Wicken, appellations which, from the Rowan-tree having been long regarded as a preservative against witchcraft, some writers have erroneously connected with the Anglo-Saxon word wicce, a witch. Evelyn calls this tree the Quick-beam, and says that in Wales it is planted in every churchyard, and that “on a certain day in the year everybody religiously wears a cross made of the wood, and it is reputed to be a preservative against fascination and evil spirits, whence perhaps we call it Witchen; the boughs being stuck about the house, or the wood used for walking-staves.” (See Rowan).

RADISH.—The Germans have given to a species of wild Radish bearing blue flowers the name of Hederich, and they have an old superstition that whoever wears a crown composed of Hederich is enabled to detect witches. A wreath of Hederich is sometimes placed on cows before leaving their stalls to be milked, in order to protect them from the effect of the Evil Eye.——In England, to dream of Radishes signifies the discovery of secrets, domestic quarrels, and misfortune.——In Germany, they call a certain evil spirit, or Geni of the mountain, Rübezahl, the Counter of Radishes; and the legend relates that on one occasion this Geni took advantage of the absence of her lover to pay his odious addresses to a young princess, whom he kept confined in her castle. As the princess expressed a desire for companions, the Geni gathered some Radishes, which she touched with a magic wand, and changed into young girls, who, however, only remained young so long as the Radishes retained their juice. Then the Geni gave her some fresh Radishes, one of which, on being touched with the magic wand, became a bee. The princess, who was jealously guarded by the Geni, sent off the bee as a messenger to her lover, to inform him that she was in the Geni’s power. The bee did not return. She touched a second, which became a cricket, and despatched it in search of her lover. The cricket never returned. Then the princess desired the Geni to count the Radishes, and he, to please her, did so. Whilst so occupied, the princess touched one of the Radishes with her wand, and it became a horse. In an instant, she sprang on its back, and rode away at full speed; and fortunately meeting her lover, they both escaped together.

RAGGED ROBIN.—The Ragged Robin, Cuckoo Flower, Meadow Campion, or Meadow Pink (Lychnis Flos cuculi) owes the first of these names to the finely-cut but ragged appearance of its petals. It is dedicated to St. Barnabas.

RAG-WEED.—The large Rag-weed (Senecio Jacobæa) has a traditional reputation of having been employed by witches as horses when they took their midnight rides.——To the south of the famed Logan Rock on the Cornish coast is a high peak of granite known as the Castle Peak, which is locally reputed to have been for ages the midnight rendezvous for witches; and thither, according to tradition, witches were constantly seen flying on moonlight nights, mounted on the stems of the Rag-weed, and carrying with them the things necessary to make their charms potent and strong. The Rag-weeds or worts were also called Stagger-worts because they were found effectual to cure the staggers in horses. Hence these plants were dedicated to St. James, the patron of horses, and are still known as St. James’s Worts; they also blossom about this great warrior and pilgrim saint’s day, July 25th. This connection of the plant with horses probably explains the tradition of its having been employed as the witches’ steed.

Ramp.—See Arum.

RAMPION.—The Rampion (Campanula Rapunculus) was considered by the ancients as a funereal vegetable or root. In the temple of Apollo at Delphi, the esculent roots of the Rampion were highly esteemed as appropriate food, and were carried on golden plates. Among the Italians, there exists an old superstition that the possession of a Rampion engenders among children a quarrelsome disposition, and excites their anger to such a degree, that unless checked, murder would result. Hence, in ancient dream-books, a dream in which the Rampion is seen is interpreted as a sure sign of an impending quarrel.

RANUNCULUS.—The name Ranunculus (which is the diminutive of rana, a frog) was applied by the Latins to this species of plants because they were observed to grow in places frequented by frogs.——Rapin tells us that the flower was originally a young Libyan noted for his sweet voice:—

“Ranunculus, who with melodious strains
Once charmed the ravished nymphs on Libyan plains,
Now boasts through verdant fields his rich attire,
Whose love-sick look betrays a secret fire;
Himself his song beguiled and seized his mind
With pleasing flames for other hearts designed.”

The Latin herbalists also called the plant Strumea, because it was used as a remedy for a complaint similar to the King’s-evil, termed Strumæ. With one of the species of Ranunculus the ancients were wont to poison the points of their arrows.——The Buttercup, also known as King’s Cup, Gold Cup, Gold Knobs, Leopard’s Foot, and Cuckoo-bud, belongs to the Ranunculus family.——The Crowfoot or Crowflower (the Coronopus of Dioscorides) is also a Ranunculus: this plant possesses the power of raising blisters on the skin, and is employed by mendicants to raise wounds on their limbs, in order to excite sympathy. Cattle generally refuse the acrid Crowfoot (R. acris), but if they perchance eat it, it will blister their mouths. The Illyrian Crowfoot (R. Illyricus), Gerarde tells us, is thought to be the Gelotophyllis mentioned by Pliny (Book xxiv.), “which being drunk, saith he, with wine and Myrrhe, causeth a man to see divers strange sights, and not to cease laughing till he hath drunk Pine-apple kernels with Pepper in wine of the Date-tree (I think he would have said until he be dead), because the nature of laughing Crowfoot is thought to kill laughing, but without doubt the thing is clean contrary, for it causeth such convulsions, crampe, and wringings of the mouth and jaws, that it hath seemed to some that the parties have died laughing, whereas, in truth, they have died in great torment.”——The Double Crowfoot, or Bachelor’s Buttons, used formerly to be called St. Anthony’s Turnip, because of its round bulbous root: this root was reputed to be very efficacious in curing the plague, if applied to the part affected. According to Apuleius, it was a sure cure for lunacy, if hung round the neck of the patient, in a linen cloth, “in the wane of the Moon, when the sign shall be in the first degree of Taurus or Scorpio.”——The Persian Ranunculus is the Ranunculus of the garden. The Turks cultivated it under the name of Tarobolos Catamarlale, for several ages before it was known in other parts of Europe. Their account of its introduction is, that a Vizier, named Cara Mustapha, first noticed among the herbage of the fields this hitherto neglected flower, and decorated the garden of the Seraglio with it. The flower attracted the notice of the Sultan, upon which he caused it to be brought from all parts of the East where varieties could be found. This collection of Ranunculus flowers was carefully preserved in the Seraglio gardens alone, and only through bribery did at last some few roots find their way into other parts of Europe.——Astrologers hold the Ranunculus to be under the rule of Mars.

RASRIVTRAVA.—The Rasrivtrava is the Russian name of a plant which has magical powers, enabling it to fracture chains and break open locks,—properties which appertain also to the Primula veris or Key of the Spring, to the Eisenkraut or Vervain, the Mistletoe, the Lunary or Moonwort, the Springwort, the Fern, and the Hazel. The word Rasrivtrava means literally the “Plant that Opens.”

RASPBERRY.—Formerly the Raspberry was very generally known as the Hindberry; and this name is still retained in some counties.——It is thought that to dream of Raspberries betokens success, happiness in marriage, fidelity in a sweetheart, and good news from abroad.

REED.—King Midas is said to have expressed the opinion that the Reed-pipes of the god Pan produced better music than the lyre of Apollo. The offended god in consequence changed the king’s ears to those of an ass. Midas concealed his deformity as long as he was able; but at length a barber discovered his secret, and being unable to keep it, and at the same time dreading the king’s resentment, he dug a hole in the earth, and after whispering therein, “King Midas has the ears of an ass,” he covered up the hole, and in it, as he hoped, the words divulging the secret. But on that spot grew a number of Reeds, and when they were agitated by the wind, instead of merely rustling, they repeated the buried words—“King Midas has the ears of an ass.”—Cato tells us the Roman country folks, when they had broken an arm or a leg, split a Reed, and applied it, with certain precautions, to the wounded part, accompanying the operation with a rustic incantation, such as the following:—

“Huat, hanat huat,
Ista pista sista,
Damiabo damnaustra.”

A Devonshire charm for the thrush is:—Take three Reeds from any running stream, and pass them separately through the mouth of the infant; then plunge the Reeds again into the stream, and as the current bears them away, so will the thrush depart from the child.——From the Reed (Calamus) the first pen was invented, and of Reeds arrows were made. The root of Calamus aromaticus was highly esteemed in eastern countries: thus we read in Gerarde’s ‘Herbal,’ that “the Turks at Constantinople take it fasting, in the morning, against the contagion of the corrupt aire; and the Tartars have it in such esteeme, that they will not drinke water unlesse they have first steeped some of the root therein.”——In the Ukraine, is current a version of the tradition alluded to under the head of Oats. In this version, the Reed belongs to the Devil, and has, in fact, been his habitation since the days of Jesus Christ. One day, having met the Saviour, he prayed Him to give to him as his portion the Oats and Buckwheat, because, after having assisted the Almighty to create the world, he had never received for himself any consideration. The Saviour consented, and the Devil was so delighted, that he skipped off without even thanking his benefactor. The wolf met him, and seeing him so elated, asked him why he was jumping and skipping about? This question confused the Devil, who, instead of replying “because God has given me the Oats and Buckwheat,” said: “I am skipping because God has given me the Reed and the Sow-thistle.” From that time, it is said, the Devil never could recollect the present that God had made him, but always imagined that it was the Reed and the Sow-thistle.——According to English dream oracles, for the slumberer to see Reeds betokens mischief between him and his friends.

REED-MACE.—The Bulrush, or Cat’s-Tail (Typha latifolia), has acquired the name of Reed-Mace from the fact that Rubens and the early Italian painters, in their Ecce Homo pictures, depict the Saviour as holding in His hands this Reed as a mace or sceptre. The Reed-Mace is, on certain days, put by Catholics into the hands of statues of Christ.

Resurrection-Flower.—See Rose of Jericho.

RHAMNUS.—The Rhamnus Spina Christi, or Syrian Christ’s Thorn, has acquired that name because it is supposed by many to have supplied the crown of Thorns at our Saviour’s crucifixion. An English species, Rhamnus Paliurus, is also called by Miller Spina Christi. (See Thorn and Buckthorn.)

RICE.—Among Orientals, Rice is esteemed the symbol of life, generation, and abundance. The Dyaks of Borneo and the Karens of Burmah look upon it as a divinity, and address prayers to it to ensure a good harvest. In Siam, Rice and honey are offered to trees before they are felled.——Rice plays an important part in the marriage ceremonies of India. At the altar, the bride is three times approached by her friends, who on each occasion place Rice in her hands. They also scatter Rice on the head of the bridegroom. On the last day of the nuptial ceremonies, the bride and bridegroom together offer the sacrifice of Soma, during which they throw in the fire Rice moistened with butter. The Brahmans, when performing the marriage rites, after having recited a variety of prayers, consecrate the union of the couple by throwing a handful of Saffron mixed with the flour of Rice on their shoulders. Offerings of Rice and Saffron are made by married women in India to obtain healthy children, and to procure from the divinity exemption from the maladies of their sex. On the birth of a son, the Brahman father, after having banished the females from the apartment, takes the infant and places on its head Rice coloured red: this is done in order to avert the Evil Eye. Another method is to envelope small portions of Rice in cloths marked with the names of women suspected of being witches, and to place the whole in a nest of white ants. Should the ants devour the Rice in any of these mystic bundles, the charge of sorcery is thereby established against the woman whose name it bears. Young girls desirous of husbands offer dressed Rice to the gods. At the consecration of a Brahmanic disciple, the father of the candidate carries in his hands a cup filled with Rice, and the assistants, after the bath, cover the candidate with Rice. Rice is employed in many of the Hindu sacrifices and religious ceremonies, and is regarded as sacred: no one would touch it without having first made his ablutions. At the time of sowing it, certain ceremonies are solemnly observed.——In China, during the Spring Festival of the Fire, the priests of Tao march round the brasier, carrying a basket filled with Rice and salt, of which from time to time they cast a handful into the fire, to conjure the flame and to obtain an abundant harvest.——A Japanese legend relates that in ancient times the Bonzes (priests) of Nikko, like the other natives, lived solely on herbs and roots, not knowing any other kind of nourishment. One day, however, a Bonze observed a mouse hiding some Rice and other grains in a corner. He could not understand where the mouse could have obtained it, so he set a trap, and having caught the little creature, he tied to one of its hind legs a silken thread; and then, holding the other end of the thread in his hand, he set the mouse free, and determined to follow wherever it should run. The mouse led the priest into a remote and unknown land, where Rice grew in abundance. The Bonze learnt how to cultivate it, and speedily introduced it into his own country, where it proved such a blessing, that the inhabitants worshipped the mouse as a god, under the name of Daikoku-sama. From that day the mouse has been held sacred by the Japanese poor, and its effigy is found suspended in many of their houses as a fetish.——Among the Arabs, Rice is considered as a sacred food, and tradition runs that it first sprang from a drop of perspiration which fell from Mahomet in Paradise. Another tradition current among the Arabs is, that the national dish, composed of a mixture of Rice with other ingredients, and called Kuskussu, was revealed to Mahomet by the angel Gabriel himself.——The Bushmen of Central Africa have the following legend concerning Rice:—A pretty woman having eaten a certain Bushman-rice, called “ant’s-egg,” became transformed into a lioness; but after the spell was broken by reason of her little sister and her brothers also eating this particular Rice, she regained her original form, and from that day detested the Bushman-rice. This beautiful woman is supposed to have been the wife of the star called Heart of the Dawn.——In England, the Oriental practice of employing Rice at wedding festivities has of late become very general; and it is customary for showers of Rice to be thrown after the bride and bridegroom, as the happy pair quit the bride’s home; this is thought to promote their success and future happiness.——According to a work on the subject, to dream of eating Rice denotes abundance of instruction.

ROCKET.—This is a name given to several different plants the most noted of which are the London Rocket (Sisymbrium Irio) and the Dame’s, or Garden Rocket (Hesperis matronalis). The former plant is said to have first appeared in the metropolis in the Spring succeeding the Great Fire of London, when young Rockets were seen everywhere springing up among the ruins, where they increased so marvellously, that in the Summer the enormous crop crowding over the surface of London created the greatest astonishment and wonder.——The Garden Rocket (Hesperis) boasts of many other old-fashioned names:—Dame’s Violet, Damask Violet, Queen’s Gilliflower, Rogue’s Gilliflower, Winter Gilliflower, and Close Sciences (originally Close Sciney). It is the Cassolette (smelling-bottle), Julienne, and la Juliana of the French; and the Bella Giulia and Giuliana of the Italians.——According to Pliny, as quoted by Gerarde, “whosoever taketh the seed of Rocket before he be whipt, shall be so hardened that he shall easily endure the paines.” Turner remarks that all sorts of Rockets, but especially the seed, quicken nature and excite the passions; the seed he recommends as efficacious “against the bitings of the shrew-mouse and other venomous beasts.” Moreover, if mixed with vinegar, it is stated to remove freckles and pimples from the face.——Rocket is held to be under the dominion of Mars.

Rogation-Flower.—See Gang-Flower and Milkwort.

Root of the Holy Ghost.—See Angelica.

ROSE.—It is worthy of notice how little the name of the Rose varies amongst different nations. The Greeks call it Rodon, the Latins Rosa (a form adhered to by Italians, Russians, Spaniards, and Portuguese), the English, French, Germans, and Danes, Rose, the Poles Roza, the Dutch Roos, and the Swedes Ros. Roses embellish the whole earth, and are natives of Europe, Asia, Africa, and America; Nature having apparently, in this generous distribution, designed to offer these flowers to all people, as the type of grace and beauty. The origin of the queen of flowers is told us by the Jesuit poet Rapin, according to whose verse—

“She was a Grecian born, gave Corinth laws,
And fame proclaimed her worth with such applause,
That youthful rivals for her favour strove,
And high-born kings were suppliants for her love.”

Of her numerous suitors, Brias, Orcas, and Halesus, a warrior, were the principal. Provoked at their importunities, she haughtily bade them “from arms and not entreaties seek a bride;” and then, to rid herself of them, she entered the temple of Apollo and Diana with her father and people. The lovers, not to be denied, combined in an attack upon the temple gates, and the excitement of the combat so enhanced the maiden’s beauty, that the people shouted, “Let Rhodanthe be a goddess, and let the image of Diana give place to her!” Rhodanthe being therefore placed upon the shrine, Phœbus, Diana’s brother, became so incensed at the insult to his sister, that he turned his scorching rays against the would-be goddess, who bitterly repented that she had ever appeared a deity; for—

“Fast in the shrine her foot takes hold and cleaves,
Her arms stretch’d out are cover’d o’er with leaves;
Tho’ chang’d into a flower, her pomp remains,
And lovely still, and still a queen she reigns.
The crowd for their offence this doom abide.
Shrunk into thorns to guard her beauty’s pride.”

Her too ardent lovers were transformed respectively into a worm, a drone, and a butterfly.

This account bears a general resemblance to the legend recounted by Sir John Maundevile, who visited Bethlehem in the fourteenth century, and found there the field Floridus, wherein, he tells us, a fair maiden who had been unjustly accused of wrong was doomed to be burned; and, after praying devoutly to God that, inasmuch as she was not guilty, He would help her, and make her innocence known to all men, “she entered the fire, and immediately the fire was extinguished, and the faggots that were burning became red Rose-bushes full of Roses, and those that remained unkindled became white Rose-bushes; and these were the first Rose-trees and Roses, both white and red, that ever any man saw.” “Thus,” concludes Sir John, “was this mayden saved be the grace of God. And therfore is that feld clept the Feld of God florysscht: for it was fulle of Roses.” Southey, in his poem on the Rose, has commemorated this old story in the following lines:—

“The stake
Branches and buds, and spreading its green leaves,
Embowers and canopies the fair maid,
Who there stands glorified; and Roses, then
First seen on earth since Paradise was lost,
Profusely blossom round her, white and red.
In all their rich variety of hues.”

According to a Roumanian tradition, the Rose was originally a young and beauteous princess, who, while bathing in the sea, so dazzled the Sun with the radiance of her loveliness, that he stood still to gaze upon her, and covered her with kisses. Then for three days he forgot his duty, and obstructed the progress of night. Since that day the Lord of the Universe has changed the princess into a Rose, and this is why the Rose always hangs her head and blushes when the Sun gazes on her.

Anacreon gives the following poetic account of the origin of the Rose, connecting it with the goddess of love and beauty:—

“Oh! whence could such a plant have sprung?
Attend, for thus the tale is sung:
When, humid from the silvery stream,
Effusing beauty’s warmest beam,
Venus appeared, in flushing hues,
Mellowed by ocean’s briny dews;
When, in the starry courts above,
The pregnant brain of mighty Jove
Disclosed the nymph of azure glance,
The nymph who shakes the martial lance;
Then, then, in strange eventful hour,
The earth produced an infant flower,
Which sprung with blushing tinctures drest,
And wantoned o’er its parent’s breast.
The gods beheld this brilliant birth,
And hailed the Rose, the boon of earth.”—Moore.

Bion describes the Rose as springing from the blood of the slain Adonis; and the Mahometans have a legend that it was produced from a drop of perspiration which fell from the brow of Mahomet.

Relative to the colour of the Rose, we find a number of stories left us by the ancients. Catullus tells us, that the Rose is red from blushing for the wound it inflicted on the foot of Venus as she hastened to the assistance of Adonis; Claudian, when Venus plucks a Rose, says it is in remembrance of Adonis; an ancient epigram mentions her wishing to defend Adonis from Mars, when

“Her step she fixes on the cruel thorns;
And with her blood the pallid Rose adorns.”

Anacreon tells us that the flower was dyed with nectar by the gods:—

“With nectar drops, a ruby tide,
The sweetly orient buds they dyed
And bade them bloom—the flowers divine
Of Him who sheds the teeming Vine.”—Moore.

Still another legend is to the effect that Cupid, whilst leading a dance in heaven, stumbled and overset a bowl of nectar, which, falling upon the earth, stained the Rose.

The Rose—the flower of love, poetry, and beauty—was specially dedicated to Venus, who is sometimes represented crowned with Roses, and sometimes with a sceptre terminated with that flower. One of the Three Graces—the attendants of Venus—usually carried a Rose in her hand. Cupid is often depicted crowned with Roses, and the chaplet of Hymen consisted generally of Marjoram or Roses, which latter flowers were used in his feasts. The Thracians crowned Bacchus (Sabazius) with Roses, and, in the vicinity of Pangæus, held a feast called Rosalia. In the procession of the Corybantes, the goddess Cybele was pelted with white Roses.

The Rose was a domestic flower sedulously cultivated by the ancients, but especially by the Romans. It is said to have early flourished at Rhodes, and possibly gave its name to that island. The Roses of Campania, Miletus, Præneste, Malta, Cyrene, and Sybaris were all noted; but especially celebrated were those of Pæstum: to this day the insignia of Pæstum—a Syren holding a Rose—remains sculptured on the ruined arch of one of its gates.

Among the ancients, it was customary to crown brides and bridegrooms with a chaplet of red and white Roses. The Roman bride was decorated with a wreath of Roses and Myrtle. The shrines of the gods and of illustrious men in Rome were surmounted with wreaths of Roses. The triumphal arches were adorned with these flowers, and garlands of Roses were thrown into the chariots. At the public games, wreaths of Roses were presented to the senators, and sometimes to the performers and spectators. At the private entertainments of the ancients, the guests wore wreaths of blooming Roses. The Romans thought to impart additional relish to their feasts by the aid of the fragrance of the Rose. Pacutus relates that “even in the time of the Republic, people were not satisfied unless the cup of Falernian wine were swimming with Roses.” The Spartan soldiers, after the battle of Cirrha, were so fastidious as to refuse wine that was not perfumed with Roses. At the famed regatta of Baiæ, the whole surface of the Lucrine Lake used to be strewn with these flowers. At some of his banquets, Nero caused showers of Roses to be rained down upon his guests from apertures in the ceiling. Heliogabalus carried this practice to such an absurd extent, as to cause the suffocation of some of his guests, who could not extricate themselves from the heap of flowers. Cleopatra, in the entertainment she gave in honour of Antony, spent an immense sum in Roses, with which she had the floor of the banqueting chamber covered to the depth of an ell, and over the flowers a thin net was drawn. The Romans were at great expense to procure Roses in the Winter. Suetonius affirms that Nero spent upwards of four million sesterces (about £30,000) for Roses, at one supper. Horace, alluding to this custom, says: “Seek not for late-blowing Roses; I ask no other crown than simple Myrtle.” In those days, Rose-wine was celebrated, and we learn that Heliogabalus was wont to indulge largely in this drink, and bathed himself in it. He even caused a large swimming-bath to be filled with the costly liquid.

Milto, a fair young maiden, of obscure birth, was wont to deposit every morning garlands of fresh flowers in the temple of Venus, as she was too poor to make costlier offerings. Her rare beauty was once in danger of being destroyed by a tumour which grew on her chin, but in a dream she one night beheld the goddess, who told her to apply to it some of the Roses from her altar. Milto obeyed; the tumour soon disappeared, and she grew more lovely than ever; eventually attracting the notice of the younger Cyrus, whose favourite wife she became. From that time the medicinal properties of the Rose met with general recognition, and the flower formed the basis of many lotions.

In classical times, the Rose was regarded as the emblem of joy, and Comus, the god of feasting, is represented as wearing a garland of bedewed Roses. As, during the intoxication of mirth, the mouth is apt to run over when the heart is full, the ancients feigned that Cupid presented a Rose to Harpocrates, the grave god of silence, as a bribe not to betray the amours of Venus. The flower thus became a symbol of secrecy and silence, and as such, a Rose was formerly suspended over the guest table, that the sight of it might remind the guests that the conversation should not be repeated elsewhere. More recently, a Rose was painted on the ceiling of dining-rooms, and in our own time the plaster ornament in the centre of the ceiling is still called a Rose. This custom gave rise to the saying “Under the Rose”—an injunction of secrecy. Hence it fell out that the Jacobins adopted the white Rose as a political symbol of the Pretender, since his adherents were compelled to help him “under the Rose.”

The Rose held an important place in early ecclesiastical history. As an emblem of love and beauty, the queen of flowers was especially dedicated by the Romish Church to the Virgin Mary: she is the Rose of Sharon, the Mystic Rose (Rosa mystica), as well as the Lily of the Valley. In old Italian paintings of the Madonna, a plantation, garden, or hedge of Roses is often introduced, enclosing the principal figure. In mediæval days, the Rose had a Sunday of its own at Rome, and the reigning Pope officiated at the ceremony of the blessing of the Golden Rose upon Mid-Lent Sunday. A Golden Rose is, even in our own enlightened times, annually blessed by the Pope and sent as a mark of signal pontifical favour to some royal personage. Ecclesiastical tradition affirms that Roses and Lilies were found in the tomb of the Virgin Mary after her assumption into heaven, and Roses were conveyed by St. Dorothy, at the instance of Theophilus, from the heavenly garden. Roses replaced the alms of Elizabeth of Hungary, when her apron was rudely torn from her grasp by those who shared not her charitable zeal for the poor. A legend of the twelfth century, quoted in a German work by Wolf, relates how Iosbert, a pious monk, having fallen dead, whilst worshipping at a shrine of the Virgin Mary (in honour of whom he had been accustomed to recite five psalms every day), there sprang from his mouth, from his eyes, and from his ears, five Roses. The bishop, on his arrival, plucked one of the miraculous flowers, and solemnly placed it upon the altar. No sooner had he done so, however, than the other four Roses instantly faded away. In old paintings of the saints, Roses are sometimes introduced in allusion to the saint’s name. St. Rosalia, of Palermo, St. Rosa di Viterbo, St. Rosa di Lima, all wear the crown of Roses, or it is presented by an angel. The last-named saint, who is the patroness of America, was canonised by Clement X. According to the Peruvian legend, the pope, when entreated to canonise her, absolutely refused, exclaiming: “Indian and saint! as likely as that it should rain Roses!” whereupon a miraculous shower of Roses began to fall in the Vatican, and ceased not until the incredulous pontiff acknowledged himself convinced of her sanctity. A legend of St. Francis of Assisi relates that as the saint was one day shivering in his cell, in the depth of Winter, a demon whispered in his ear suggestions of ease and luxury. He repelled the temptations by going out and rolling himself in the snow on a heap of Thorns. From the Thorns sprinkled with his blood sprang Roses of Paradise, which he piously offered up to Christ and the Madonna.

The Rosary was introduced by St. Dominick, in commemoration of his having been shown a chaplet of Roses by the blessed Virgin. It consisted formerly of a string of beads made of Rose-leaves tightly pressed into round moulds, when real Roses were not strung together. The use of a chaplet of beads as a minute of the number of prayers recited is of Eastern origin, and dates from the time of the Egyptian anchorites. Beads were also used by the Benedictines, and are to this day in use among Mahometan devotees. St. Dominick invented a novel arrangement of the chaplet, and dedicated it to the honour and glory of the Virgin Mary. A complete Rosary consists of fifteen large and 150 small beads, the former representing the number of Paternosters, the latter the number of Ave-Marias. The Indian Buddhists use a Rosary of 99 beads: the Chinese and Japanese Buddhists one of 108 beads, corresponding to the daily prayers offered against the 108 possible sins.

In the sixth century, St. Médard, Bishop of Noyon, France, instituted a festival at Salency, his birth-place, for adjudging a prize to the girl who should be acknowledged the most amiable, modest, and beautiful. The prize consisted of a simple crown of Roses, and the founder of the festival had the gratification of crowning his own sister as the first Rose Queen of Salency, in which obscure village this pleasant institution still exists. At the present time, however, the Rosière has a douceur of three hundred francs presented to her. Of late years the institution of the Rosière has been introduced into this country by a Roman Catholic priest who labours in the east of London. The Academy of Floral Games at Toulouse, founded in 1322, and still in existence, was wont to give a Rose as a prize for the best poem. From 1288 to 1589 the French dukes and peers of all degrees were obliged in the Spring which followed their nomination to present a tribute of Roses to Parliament.

The association of the flower with our own country dates from a very early period; and we find Pliny doubting whether the name Albion referred to the white cliffs of our island or the white Roses which grew there in abundance. In Edward the Third’s reign a gold coin was struck called the “Rose noble,” which bore the figure of a Rose on one of its faces. As the badge of the rival houses of York and Lancaster, the flower became celebrated in English history—the White Rose being the hereditary cognisance of the house of York, and the Red Rose that of Lancaster. Shakspeare (in Henry VI.) represents the feud between the two houses as having originated in the Temple Gardens, where after a fierce altercation, Warwick addresses Plantagenet thus:—

“In signal of my love to thee,
Will I upon thy party wear this Rose:
And here I prophesy, this brawl to-day,
Grown to this faction in the Temple Garden,
Shall send, between the Red Rose and the White
A thousands souls to death and deadly night.”

Like the Gilliflower, the Rose was occasionally taken as a quit-rent; thus we find in 1576 that the then Bishop of Ely granted to Sir Christopher Hatton the greater portion of Ely House, Holborn, for a term of twenty-one years, on consideration of the tenant paying annually a red Rose for the garden and gate-house, and giving the Bishop free access to the gardens, with the right of gathering twenty bushels of Roses every year.

In the East, the Rose is an object of peculiar esteem. The Oriental poets have united the beauteous Rose with the melodious nightingale; and the flower is fabled to have burst forth from its bud at the song of the warbler of the night. The poet Jami says—“You may place a handful of fragrant herbs and flowers before the nightingale; yet he wishes not in his constant heart for more than the sweet breath of his beloved Rose.”

“Though rich the spot
With every flower this earth has got,
What is it to the nightingale,
If there his darling Rose is not?”—Moore.

Persia is the veritable land of Roses: nowhere does the queen of flowers reign in such glorious majesty. Zoroaster himself, the apostle of the Persians, and the introducer of the worship of the sacred fire, is connected in a legend with the Rose. An astrologer having predicted the birth of a child who would dethrone the King of Babylon, the monarch at once gave orders for the assassination of all women who were about to become mothers. Thousands were slain; but one gave birth secretly to the future prophet. This having come to the King’s ear, he sent for the child, and tried to kill him with his own hand, but his arm was withered on the spot. Alarmed, and furious with rage, he had the babe placed on a lighted stake, but the burning pile changed into a bed of Roses, on which the little one lay quietly sleeping. Some persons present saved a portion of the fire, which has been kept up to the present day in memory of this great miracle. The king made two other attempts to destroy Zoroaster, but his temerity was punished miraculously by a gnat, which entered his ear and caused his death. A festival is held in Persia, called the Feast of the Roses, which lasts the whole time they are in bloom.

“And all is ecstacy, for now
The valley holds its feast of Roses;
That joyous time, when pleasures pour,
Profusely round, and in their shower
Hearts open, like the season’s Rose,—
The flowret of a hundred leaves,
Expanding while the dew-fall flows,
And every leaf its balm receives!”—Moore’s ‘Lalla Rookh.’

Pelting with Roses is still common in Persia during the time of the blooming of the flowers. A band of young musicians repair to the places of public entertainment to amuse the guests, and on their way through the streets they pelt the passengers whom they meet with Roses. The Persians regard the Rosa centifolia as the flower of an archangel. Zoroaster affirmed that the Rose was free from thorns until the entrance into the world of Ahrimanes (the evil spirit).

The “bed of Roses” is not altogether a poetic fiction. In ancient days, the Sybarites used to sleep upon mattresses that were stuffed with Rose-leaves. A similar luxury was afterwards indulged in, both in Greece and Rome. Men would sit at their meals upon cushions, and sleep by night on beds of Roses. The tyrant Dionysius had couches stuffed with Roses, on which he lounged at his revels. Verres used to travel on a litter reclining on a mattress stuffed with Roses. He wore, moreover, garlands of Roses round his head and neck, and had Rose-leaves intertwined in a thin net, which was drawn over the litter. It was a favourite luxury of Antiochus to sleep in a tent of gold and silver on a mattress stuffed with Roses.

The Indians have a tradition respecting the discovery of the mode of preparing the far-famed Attar of Roses, a perfume perhaps unrivalled in its refreshing qualities. To gratify the voluptuous Jehanghir, his favourite sultana is said to have had the royal bath in the palace garden filled with Rose-water. The action of the sun speedily concentrated the oleaginous particles floating on the surface, and the careful attendant, fearing lest the Rose-water should have become corrupt, hastened to skim it in order to remove the oily flakes. The globules burst whilst this operation was being performed, and emitted such an exquisite odour, that the idea of preparing the delicious attar was at once suggested. Avicenna, an Arabian doctor of the tenth century, was the first to extract from Roses their fragrant perfume by distillation. He selected the Rosa centifolia for his experiments, and succeeded in producing the delicious liquid known as Rose-water, which is held in such repute in the East, that when a stranger enters a house, it is considered a mark of distinction and welcome to sprinkle him over with Rose-water. When Saladin entered Jerusalem in 1187, he had the floor and walls of Omar’s mosque entirely washed with this delicate perfume.

At all times, in all countries, Roses have been employed for planting and strewing upon graves. The dying Antony begged Cleopatra to scatter perfumes on his tomb and cover it with Roses; and both Greeks and Romans were desirous of having their graves bedecked every year with the fragrant flowers. So religiously did they observe the practice of planting Roses round graves, that they annexed codicils to their wills, as appears by an old inscription at Ravenna, and another at Milan, by which Roses are ordered to be yearly strewed upon the graves. In the German portions of Switzerland, churchyards are called “Rose gardens.” A Rose is sculptured on the tombs of maidens in Turkey. In Poland, the coffins of little children are covered with Roses, and Roses are thrown from the windows as the funeral procession passes along the streets. In the South of England, a chaplet of white Roses is borne before the corpse of a maiden, by a young girl of the same age as the deceased, and afterwards hung up over her accustomed seat in church. In South Wales, and in many parts of England, it was formerly customary to strew Roses and plant Rose-trees on graves, and, indeed, the custom is still extant. Camden says that at Ockley, in Surrey, the custom of planting Rose-trees on graves had been observed “time out of mind.”

The Rose is one of the plants used for love divinations on Midsummer Eve. In Cornwall, Devon, and other counties, if a young lady will, on Midsummer Eve, walk backwards into the garden, and pluck a Rose, she is reputed to have the means of knowing who is to be her husband. The Rose must be cautiously sewn up in a paper bag, and put aside in a dark drawer, there to remain until Christmas morning, when the bag must be carefully opened in silence, and the Rose placed by the lady in her bosom. Thus she must wear it to church. Some young man will either ask her for the Rose or take it from her without asking; and that young man is destined eventually to become the lady’s husband. Herrick probably refers to this charm in the ‘Hesperides,’ when, in allusion to a bride, he says:—

“She must no more a-maying,
Or by Rosebuds divine
Who’ll be her Valentine.”

There is a curious old divination rite to be employed on the 27th of June, according to which maidens are enjoined on that morning to gather secretly a full-blown Rose, between three and four o’clock. The flower is then to be held for about five minutes over the smoke of a chafing-dish containing some brimstone and charcoal; then, before the Rose gets cool, it is to be placed on a sheet of paper, on which is inscribed the maiden’s name and that of the swain she loves, together with the date of the year, and the name of the morning star. This paper, having been folded and thrice sealed, is to be buried at the foot of the Rose-tree from which the flower was plucked, and allowed to remain there until the 6th of July, when it is to be taken up, and placed beneath the maiden’s pillow, with the result that, before morning, she will, in a dream, have her fate revealed. The Rose is utilised as a love-charm in Thuringia; there a maid who has several lovers will name a Rose-leaf after each, and then scatter them upon the water; that which sinks the last representing her future husband.

It was a common belief formerly, that when Roses or Violets flourished in Autumn, there would be a plague or some pestiferous disease during the ensuing year. Lord Bacon points out that a profusion of Roses in their season predicts a severe Winter, and the belief is still extant.

“The Thorns and Briars, vermilion hue,
Now full of Hips and Haws are seen;
If village prophecies be true,
They prove that Winter will be keen.”

A writer in the Gardener’s Chronicle tells us, that “in some parts of Germany it is customary to throw Rose-leaves on a coal-fire as a means of ensuring good luck. In Germany, as well as in France and Italy, it is believed that if a drop of one’s blood be buried under a Rose-tree, it will ensure rosy cheeks. The Rose is also associated in Westphalia with a charm against nose-bleeding and other hæmorrhages. This charm consists in the repetition of the words: ‘In Christ’s Garden stand three Roses, one for the good God, the other for God’s blood, the third for the angel Gabriel: blood, I pray you, cease to flow.’ In Suabia, it is somewhat different: ‘On our Lord’s grave spring three Roses; the first is Hope, the second is Patience, the third is the will of God: blood, I pray you be still.’”

Strangely enough, the Rose has the reputation of being a death portent. In England, it is on that account deemed very unlucky to scatter the leaves of a red Rose on the ground. In Italy, this flower is deemed an emblem of an early death; and it is thought an evil omen if its leaves perchance fall to the ground. In Ireland, there is a legend of a sick man who saw a Rose pass across the panes of the window of his room: it was a death warning, and the man died. Roses not only act as portents of death, but in some cases they spring up as memorials of the dead. Thus, at Roncevalles, where Roland and the douze pairs stained the soil with their blood, Roses are popularly believed to have sprung up:—

“When Roland brave and Olivier,
And every paladin and peer,
On Roncevalles died.”

And again, in our own country, a tradition relates that after the battle of Towton, there sprang up in the field where the Yorkists and Lancastrians fell, a peculiar kind of wild Rose, only there to be found, and which will not bear being transplanted from “the bloody meadow.”

“There still wild Roses growing,
Frail tokens of the fray;
And the hedgerow green bears witness
Of Towton field that day.”

A white Provins Rose was the emblem of the Stuarts upon the accession of the Duke of York to the throne of England as James II. It was said to come into flower on the 10th of June, a day interesting to Jacobites, as being the birthday of the Chevalier St. George.

“Of all the days that’s in the year,
The tenth of June I love most dear,
When sweet White Roses do appear,
For the sake of James the Rover.”

Under the title of Roisin dubh, the “Little Black Rose,” we find Ireland symbolised in a song composed in the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

“There’s no flower that e’er bloomed can my Rose excel,
There’s no tongue that e’er moved half my love can tell.
Had I strength, had I skill the wide world to subdue,
Oh, the queen of that wide world should be Roisin dubh!”

Dream oracles tell us that nothing can be more favourable than to dream of Roses, as they are certain emblems of happiness, prosperity, and long life. To a lover, they foretell he will marry the object of his choice, and that happiness and joy will result from the union. To the farmer and sailor, the appearance of these flowers in a dream is said to predict great prosperity and ultimate independence. To dream of withered Roses, however, is ominous of decay of fortune and disappointment.

Astrologers state that red Roses are under the government of Jupiter, Damask Roses under Venus, and white Roses under the rule of the Moon.

ROSE-BRIAR.—The Rose-briar, or Rosa canina, according to tradition, is the plant from which was formed the crown of Thorns placed on our Saviour’s brow at the Crucifixion. It has attached to it the legend that when the sacred drops of blood trickling from the wounded Saviour fell to the ground, they blossomed into Roses.

“Men saw the Thorns on Jesus’ brow,
But angels saw the Roses.”

The Wild, or Dog, Rose, it has also been supposed, composed the thicket in which Abraham caught the ram, as well as the bush in the midst of which the angel of the Lord appeared to Moses in a flame of fire, and from which God addressed him. It is probably the plant alluded to in the prophecy of Isaiah concerning the desolation of Jerusalem (v., 6): “I will lay it waste; it shall not be pruned or digged; but there shall come up Briars and Thorns.” Chandler tells us that he saw no other tree nor shrub within the walls of the Holy City when he visited it.——The Rose-briar is connected with an incident in the life of St. Benedict. This godly man, in his early life, lived for three years a solitary existence among the rocks of Subiaco, a wilderness forty miles from Rome. During this time he underwent many temptations, and on one occasion was so disturbed by the recollection of a beautiful woman whom he had seen in Rome, that he was well-nigh quitting his retreat and returning to the city. He felt, however, that the temptation proceeded from the devil, and, tormented by his distracting desires, he rushed from his cave, and flinging himself into a thicket of Briars, he rolled himself in them until the blood flowed freely from his lacerated flesh; then the fiends left him, and he was never again assailed by the same temptation. In the garden of the monastery at Subiaco they show the Rose-bushes which have been propagated from those very briars.

ROSEMARY.—Rosmarinus, the botanical name of Rosemary, signifies the “dew of the sea,” and has been applied to the plant on account of its fondness for the sea-shore. Formerly it was called Rosmarinus coronarius because of its use in chaplets and garlands, with which the principal guests at feasts were crowned. In place of more costly incense, the ancients often employed Rosemary in their religious ceremonies, and especially at funeral rites. The Romans ornamented their Lares, or household gods, with this plant, and at the Palilia, or festival held in honour of Pales, the purification of the flocks was made with the smoke of Rosemary. But the plant is essentially funereal in its character: its aroma serves to preserve the corpse of the departed, and its leaves, ever green, symbolise immortality: hence, like the Asphodel and Mallow, it was frequently planted near tombs:—

“Come funeral flower! who lov’st to dwell,
With the pale corse in lonely tomb,
And throw across the desert gloom
A sweet decaying smell.”—Kirke White.

In the Northern counties, mourners at funerals often carry a branch of Rosemary, and it is still customary in some rural districts to distribute sprigs of the plant at funerals, in order that those attending may cast them into the grave. Gay refers to this custom in his ‘Shepherd’s Week’:—

“Sprigg’d Rosemary the lads and lasses bore,
While dismally the parson walked before.
Upon her grave the Rosemary they threw,
The Daisy, Butter-flower, and Endive blue.”

Sprigs of Rosemary were, however, in olden times, worn at weddings, as well as at funerals. Herrick says:—

“Grow for two ends, it matters not at all,
Be’t for my bridal or my burial.”

Shakspeare and others of our old poets make frequent mention of Rosemary as an emblem of remembrance, and as being worn at weddings, possibly to signify the fidelity of the lovers. Thus Ophelia says:—

> “There’s Rosemary for you, that’s for remembrance; pray you, love, remember.”

Sprigs of Rosemary mingled in the coronal which bound the hair of the unfortunate Anne of Cleves on the occasion of her nuptials with King Henry VIII. In olden times, Rosemary garlanded the wassail bowl, and at Christmas the dish of roast beef, decked with Rosemary and Bays, was ushered in with the carol beginning—

“The boar’s head in hand bring I,
With garlands gay and Rosemary.”

The silvery foliage of this favourite plant mingled well with the Holly, Mistletoe, and Bays employed in decking rooms, &c., at Christmas-tide—a custom which may perhaps be accounted for by a Spanish tradition that the Rosemary (like the Juniper in other legends) afforded shelter and protection to the Virgin Mary during her flight with the infant Saviour into Egypt. The plant is said to flower on the day of the Passion of our Lord because the Virgin Mary spread on a shrub of Rosemary the under linen and little frocks of the infant Jesus; and according to tradition, it brings happiness on those families who employ it in perfuming the house on Christmas night.——In Germany, there exists a curious custom of demanding presents from women on Good Friday, at the same time striking them with a branch of Rosemary or Fir.——It is a common saying in Sicily, that Rosemary is the favourite plant of the fairies, and that the young fairies, under the guise of snakes, lie concealed under its branches.——In the rural districts of Portugal, it is called Alecrim, a word of Scandinavian origin (Ellegrim), signifying Elfin-plant.——Rosemary occupied a prominent place in monastic gardens, on account of its curative properties, and in Queen Elizabeth’s time, its silvery foliage grew all over the walls of the gardens at Hampton Court. Now-a-days the plant is rarely seen out of the kitchen garden, and indeed a common saying has arisen that “Rosemary only grows where the mistress is master.” The plant was formerly held in high estimation as a “comforter of the brain,” and a strengthener of the memory. In England, Rosemary worn about the body is said to strengthen the memory, and to afford successful assistance to the wearer in anything he may undertake.——In an ancient Italian recipe, the flowers of Rosemary, Rue, Sage, Marjoram, Fennel, Quince, &c., are recommended for the preservation of youth. In Bologna, there is an old belief that the flowers of Rosemary, if placed in contact with the skin, and especially, with the heart, give gaiety and sprightliness. Spirit of wine distilled from Rosemary produces the true Hungary water. By many persons Rosemary is used as tea for headaches and nervous disorders.——An Italian legend, given in the Mythologie des Plantes, tells that a certain queen, who was childless, one day, whilst walking in the palace gardens, was troubled with a feeling of envy whilst contemplating a vigorous Rosemary-bush, because of its numerous branches and offshoots. Strange to relate, she afterwards gave birth to a Rosemary-bush, which she planted in a pot and carefully supplied with milk four times a day. The king of Spain, nephew of the queen, having stolen this pot of Rosemary, sustained it with goat’s milk. One day, whilst playing on the flute, he saw to his astonishment a beautiful princess emerge from the Rosemary-bush. Captivated by her beauty, he fell desperately in love with this strange visitor; but being obliged to depart to fight for his country, he commended the Rosemary-bush to the special care of his head gardener. In his absence, his sisters one day amused themselves by playing on the king’s flute, and forthwith the beautiful princess emerged once more from the Rosemary. The king’s sisters, tormented by jealousy, struck her; the princess forthwith vanished, the Rosemary began to droop, and the gardener, afraid of the king’s wrath, fled into the woods. At the midnight hour, he heard a dragon talking to its mate, and telling her the story of the mystic Rosemary-bush. The dragon let fall the fact, that if the Rosemary was to be restored, it could only be by being fed or sprinkled with dragons’ blood: no sooner did the gardener hear this, than he fell upon the male and female dragons, slew them, and carrying off some of their blood, applied it to the roots of the king’s Rosemary. So the spell was broken: the king returned, and soon after married the charming Princess Rosa Marina.——A curious charm, or dream-divination, is still extant in which Rosemary plays an important part; the mode of procedure is as follows:—On the eve of St. Magdalen, three maidens, under the age of twenty-one, are to assemble in an upper room, and between them prepare a potion, consisting of wine, rum, gin, vinegar, and water, in a ground-glass vessel. Into this each maid is then to dip a sprig of Rosemary, and fasten it in her bosom; and after taking three sips of the potion, the three maids are silently to go to sleep in the same bed. As a result, the dreams of each will reveal their destiny. Another elaborate spell for effecting the same result on the first of July, consists in the gathering of a sprig of Rosemary, a red Rose, a white Rose, a blue flower, a yellow flower, nine blades of long Grass, and a sprig of Rue, all of which are to be bound together with a lock of the maiden’s hair who wishes to work the spell. This nosegay is to be sprinkled with the blood of a white pigeon and some salt, and laid beneath the maid’s head when she retires to rest. Her dreams will then portend her fate.——Rosemary is deemed a herb of the Sun.

ROSE OF JERICHO.—From the Casa Nuova Convent of Jerusalem pilgrims bring away little dried-up plants, which after a time appear to be quite dead, but if they are placed in water their branches will soon be covered with fresh bursting buds. These are the Roses of Jericho, or Resurrection Flowers, which grow among the sands of Egypt, Palestine, and Syria, and are also found in Barbary. The Anastatica Hierochuntina is cruciform; and when its flowers and leaves have withered and fallen off, the branches as they dry curl inwards, and form a round mass, thence called a Rose. The roots die; the winds tear the plant up, and blow it about the sands till it lodges in a moist spot, or is wetted with the rain; then the curled-up globe expands, and suffers the seeds to escape from the seed vessel in which they were enclosed, and becoming embedded in the sands, they germinate anew; hence its name Anastatica—Resurrection. The Holy Rose of Jericho is regarded with peculiar reverence in Palestine and other places in the East, and is supposed to be the plant alluded to in Ecclesiasticus: “I was ... as a Rose-plant in Jericho.” The Arabs call this plant Kaf Maryam (i.e., Mary’s hand); it is also known as Rosa-Mariæ (Rose of the Virgin). The pilgrims to the Holy Sepulchre fancied it sprang up wherever the Holy Family rested in their flight into the Egypt, and called it the Rosa Hierosolymitana. There is a cherished legend that it first blossomed at our Saviour’s birth, closed at the crucifixion, and opened again at Easter, whence its name of Resurrection Flower. The tradition that it blossomed at the moment when our Lord was born, and was endowed with qualities propitious to nativity, caused the plant to be greatly esteemed by the Eastern women, who, when occasion requires, are anxious to have one of these dried plants expanding in a vase of water beside them, firmly believing it has a salutary effect. In like manner, the matrons of Bologna, who call the plant the Rose of the Madonna, believe in its efficacy at the birth of children. They place the plant in water at the bedside with the conviction that at the moment when it has fully expanded itself the expected infant will first see the light.——In Germany, a similar belief exists, and the Rose of Jericho is called (after its Arabic name) Mary’s Hand, in allusion to the office assigned to the Madonna of patroness of matrons.

ROSE OF SHARON.—The Hebrew word rendered in Canticles ii., 1, and Isaiah xxxv., 1, as “Rose,” is thought by some to signify “Tulip.” Interpreters, indeed vary between Rose, Lily, Narcissus, and Tulip; so that it is impossible to say with any certainty what flower we are to understand by the Rose of Sharon. According to travellers, the Narcissus, or Jonquil (Narcissus Jonquila), grows abundantly on the plain of Sharon, yet so low that it may be unobserved among more showy plants; and again we find it stated that, in the season, the plain is literally covered with Tulips. Though Palestine abounds in flowers, it is doubtful whether the Rose of our gardens is alluded to in the Bible. In the Apocrypha (Wisdom xi., 8), it may, perhaps, be intended, but more probably the Oleander is there referred to.

ROWAN-TREE, or MOUNTAIN-ASH.—The Mountain Ash (Pyrus Aucuparia), called also by the old names of Rodden, Rowan-tree, Quicken-tree, and Witchen-tree, is a tree of good omen. In Scandinavian mythology, it is Thor’s Helper, because it bent to his grasp when he was crossing the river Vimur, on his way to the land of the Frost Giants. The wood of the Rowan was also used to preserve the Norse ships from Ran, who delighted in drowning mariners. The Rowan is generally considered to have been one of the sacred trees of the Druids. Stumps of the Mountain Ash have frequently been found within or near the circle of a Druid temple, thus proving that the tree must have been an object of great veneration with the Druids, who doubtless practised their sacred rites beneath its shade. This connection of the tree with Druidic customs affords some explanation of the many superstitious ideas appertaining to the Mountain Ash which are still extant. Lightfoot tells us that the Rowan-tree is discovered in the Druidic circles of North Britain more frequently than any other, and that even now pieces of it are carried about by superstitious people as charms to protect them from witchcraft. Like the Indian Mimosa (a tree of the same genus and of a similar character), or the Palasa, which it resembles in its graceful foliage and berries, the Mountain Ash has for ages been held in high repute as a preservative against magic and sorceries. Thus we find in Jamieson’s ‘Scottish Dictionary,’ that “the most approved charm against cantrips and spells was a branch of the Rowan-tree planted and placed over the byre. This sacred tree cannot be removed by unholy fingers.” The Scotch peasantry considered the Rowan a complete antidote against the effects of witchcraft and the Evil Eye, and, in consequence, a twig of it was very commonly carried in the pocket; but that it might have complete efficacy, it was necessary that it should be accompanied by the following couplet, written on paper, wrapped round the wood and secured by a red silk thread:—

“Rowan Ash and red thread
Keep the devils frae their speed.”

Another version of this charm renders it thus:—

“Roan-tree and red thread,
Haud the witches a’ in dread.”

Pennant remarks that the Scotch farmers carefully preserve their cattle against witchcraft by placing branches of Honeysuckle and Mountain Ash in the cowhouses on the 2nd of May; the milkmaids of Westmoreland often carry in their hands or attached to their milking-pails a branch of the Rowan-tree, from a similar superstitious belief; the dairymaids of Lancashire prefer a churn-staff of Rowan-wood to that of any other tree, as it saves the butter from evil influences; and in the North of England a branch of “Wiggin” (Mountain Ash) is frequently hung up in stables, it being deemed a most efficacious charm against witchcraft. Formerly, in some parts of the country, it was considered that a branch or twig held up in the presence of a witch was sufficient to render her deadliest wishes of no avail.——In an ancient song, called the “Laidly Worm of Spindlestone Heughs” is an allusion to this power of the Rowan-tree over witches:—

“Their spells were vain; the hags return’d
To the queen in sorrowful mood,
Crying that witches have no power
Where there is Roan-tree wood.”

In Cornwall, the Mountain Ash is called “Care,” and if there is a suspicion of a cow being bewitched or subjected to the Evil Eye, the herdsmen will suspend a branch over her stall, or twine it round her horns. Evelyn says that the Mountain Ash was reputed to be a preservative against fascination and evil spirits, “whence, perhaps, we call it ‘Witchen;’ the boughs being stuck about the door or used for walking-staves.” In Wales, this tree was considered so sacred in his time, that there was not, he tells us, a churchyard without one of them planted in it.——At the present time, in Montgomeryshire, it is customary to rest the corpse on its way to the churchyard under a Mountain Ash, as that tree is credited with having furnished the wood of the Cross.——In olden times, collars of the wood of the Rowan-tree were put upon the necks of cattle, in order to protect them from spells or witchcraft. In many parts of England, it was formerly the custom in cases of the death of animals supposed to be bewitched, to take out the heart of one of the victims, stick it over with pins, and burn it to a cinder over a fire composed of the wood of a Rowan-tree, which, as we have seen, has always been considered a terror and dread to witches.

“Black luggie, lammer bead,
Rowan-tree and red thread,
Put the witches to their speed.”

A witch touched with a branch of this sacred tree by a christened man was deemed doomed to be the victim carried off by the Devil, when he next came to claim his tribute.——Like the Hazel, Thorn, and Mistletoe, it was deemed, according to Aryan tradition, to be an embodiment of the lightning, from which it sprang, and was, moreover, thought to possess the magical power of discovering hidden treasure.——In the days of the Fenians, according to the Gaelic legend, of ‘The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Grainne,’ there grew in Ireland a celebrated Mountain Ash, called the Quicken-tree of Dubhros, which bore some wonderful berries. The legend informs us that, “There is in every berry of them the exhilaration of wine, and the satisfying of old mead, and whoever shall eat three berries of them, has he completed a hundred years, he will return to the age of thirty years.” These famed berries of the Quicken-tree of Dubhros were jealously guarded by one Searbhan Lochlannach, “a giant, hideous and foul to behold,” who would allow no one to pluck them: he was, however, slain by Diarmuid O’Duibhne, and the berries placed at the disposal of his wife Grainne, who had incited her husband to obtain them for her.——At Modrufell, on the north coast of Ireland, is or was a large Rowan, always on Christmas Eve stuck full of torches, which no wind could possibly extinguish; and one of the Orkneys possessed a still more mysterious tree with which the fate of the islands was bound up, since, if a leaf was carried away, they would pass to some foreign lord.

RUDRÂKSHA.—De Gubernatis tells us, that Rudrâksha, which means literally the Eye of Rudra (Siva), or the Tear of Rudra, is a name given, in India, to the fruit of the Eleocarpus, of which the natives manufacture their Rosaries, which are specially used in the worship of the god Siva. It is said that during the war of the gods with the Asuras, or demons, Siva burnt three towns; but he was grieved, and wept went he was told that he had also burnt the inhabitants. From the tears he then shed, and which fell to the earth, sprang the climbing plants whose fruits are to this day called by the faithful, Rudrâkshas.

RUE.—It has been conjectured that the Moly, which, according to Homer, Mercury gave to Ulysses as an antidote to the enchantress Circe’s beverage, was the root of the wild Rue. In olden times, Rue (Ruta graveolens) was called Herb of Grace, from the fact that the word rue means also “repentance,” which is needful to obtain the grace of God. It was also known as the Serving-men’s Joy, but was specially held in high repute by women, who attributed to it all sorts of miraculous qualities. R. Turner states that “it preserves chastity, being eaten; it quickeneth the sight, stirs up the spirits, and sharpeneth the wit.... It is an excellent antidote against poisons and infections; the very smell thereof is a preservation against the plague in the time of infection.” Its virtues as a disinfectant are noted in the quaint rhyme of old Tusser:—

“What savour is better, if physicke be true,
For places infected, than Wormwood and Rue?”

Dioscorides recommended the seed as a counterpoison against deadly medicines, the bitings of serpents, scorpions, wasps, &c.: and Gerarde adds, “It is reported that if a man bee anointed with the juice of Rue, these will not hurt him, and that the serpent is driven away at the smell thereof when it is burned: insomuch that when the weasell is to fight with the serpent, shee armeth her selfe by eating Rue, against the might of the serpent.”——The famous counter-poison of Mithridates, King of Pontus, was composed of twenty leaves of Rue, two Figs, two Walnuts, twenty Juniper-berries, and a little salt. Rue entered into the composition of the once noted “vinegar of the four thieves.” It is said that four thieves, during the Plague of Marseilles, invented this anti-pestilential vinegar, by means of which they entered infected houses without danger, and stole all property worth removing. Piperno, a Neapolitan physician, in 1625, recommended Rue as a specific against epilepsy and vertigo: it sufficed for the patient to suspend some round his neck, renouncing at the time, in a stated formula, the devil and all his works, and invoking the Lord Jesus. This same doctor advocated the employment of Rue to cure dumbness caused by enchantment.——In England, Rue was thought to be efficacious in the cure of madness. Drayton gives the magic potion:—

“Then sprinkled she the juice of Rue
With nine drops of the midnight dew
From Lunarie distilling.”

In combination with Euphrasy, the herb appears to have been considered potent as an eye lotion.

“Then purged with Euphrasy and Rue
The visual nerve, for he had much to see.”—Milton.

In olden times, there was a tradition that Rue always throve best when stolen from a neighbour’s garden; and it was popularly believed that the gun-flint boiled in Vervain and Rue ensured the shot taking effect.——In Venice, Rue is kept as a charm in a house, to maintain its good fortune; but it is reserved for the single members of the family; with it goes the luck of the house. When a plant cannot be procured, care is taken that at least a sprig is worn by some one between the stocking and leg.——In some parts of Italy, Rue is considered to be a protection against the Evil Eye and witchcraft.——In the Tyrol, anyone bearing a bundle of herbs, comprising Rue, Broom, Maiden-hair, Agrimony, and Ground Ivy, is enabled to see witches.——Astrologers claim Rue as a herb of the Sun, under Leo.

RUSH.—The sea-nymph Galatea was devotedly attached to Acis, a young shepherd of Sicily, who warmly returned her affection. Unfortunately Galatea was passionately loved by the Cyclops Polyphemus, whom she treated with the greatest disdain. One day the Cyclops surprised the lovers who fled from his jealous wrath. The giant, however, hurled a mass of broken rock after Acis, and a fragment striking him, he was crushed to death. Galatea, inconsolable for the loss of her lover, determined to change him into a stream. The blood of the mangled shepherd issuing from the fragment of rock which had overwhelmed him gradually changed into flowing water. Simultaneously

“The stone was cleft, and through the yawning chink
New Reeds arose on the new river’s brink;
The rock from out its hollow womb disclosed
A sound like water in its course opposed.
When (wondrous to behold) full in the flood
Up starts a youth, and navel-high he stood.
Horns from his temples rise; and either horn
Thick wreaths of Reeds (his native growth) adorn.”

The Flowering-rush (Butomus umbellatus) is considered to be the plant which sprang from the blood of Acis. The ancients knew it under name of the Juncus floridus, and Gerarde calls it the water Gladiole.——The flower now known as Acis is a dwarf Amaryllid.——In olden times, before carpets were known, it was usual to strew the floor with sweet Rushes, which diffused a fragrance. When William the Conqueror was born in Normandy, where that custom prevailed, at the very moment when the infant first saw the light and touched the ground, he filled both hands with the Rushes strewn on the floor, firmly grasping what he had taken up. This was regarded as a propitious omen, and the persons present declared the boy would become a king. This custom of strewing sweet Rushes was in vogue during Elizabeth’s reign, for we find several allusions to it in Shakspeare’s plays. Cardinal Wolsey, when in the zenith of his power, had the strewings of his great hall at Hampton Court renewed every day. It was customary formerly to strew Rushes on the floors of Churches on the Feast of Dedication, and on all high days. Till recently the floor of Norwich Cathedral was strewn with Acorus Calamus on feast days, or, if the Acorus was scarce, then with yellow Iris-leaves. At the Church of St. Mary Redcliffe, Bristol, Rushes are strewn every Whitsuntide.——In Yorkshire, Cheshire, and Westmoreland, the old custom of Rush-bearing is observed, which apparently had for its origin the ancient practice of carrying Rushes to adorn the Church on the Feast of Dedication. The following account of a Rush-bearing at Ambleside is taken from ‘Time’s Telescope,’ for 1824:—“July 26, 1823.—On this and the following day, the antient custom of Rush-bearing took place at Ambleside. At seven o’clock on Saturday evening, a party of about forty young girls went in procession to the Church, preceded by a band of music. Each of the girls bore in her hands the usual Rush-bearings, the origin and signification of which have so long puzzled the researches of our antiquarians. These elegant little trophies were disposed in the Church, round the pulpit, reading-desk, pews, &c., and had a really beautiful and imposing effect. They thus remained during the Sunday, till the service was finished in the afternoon, when a similar procession was formed to convey these trophies home again. We understand that formerly, in some parts of Lancashire, a similar ceremony prevailed, under the same designation, in which the Rush-bearings were made in the form of females, with a fanciful rosette for the head; and on looking at these in Ambleside, some faint resemblance of the female form may be traced in the outline. No satisfactory explanation of this ceremony has ever yet been given: the attempt at one is, that it is a remnant of an antient custom, which formerly prevailed, of strewing the church-floors with Rushes to preserve the feet from damp; but we cannot perceive what resemblance there is between the practice of strewing the church with Rushes, and the trophies which are now carried from time immemorial.”——To dream of Rushes portends unpleasantness between friends.

RYE.—The Rye-fields are thought by the superstitious German peasantry to be infested by an evil spirit known as the Roggenwolf, or Rye-wolf, and in some districts the last sheaf of Rye is left as a shelter for this field demon during the winter.——In Germany, when a horse is tired, the peasantry will place on his back some crumbs of Rye bread, with a sure conviction that his fatigue will vanish.

SAD TREE.—The Indian Sad Tree (Nyctanthes Arbor-tristis) is a species of Jasmine whose sweet-smelling flowers open at sunset and fall at sunrise, so that it is unadorned during the day, and has thus obtained the name of the Sad Tree. Its flowers, which resemble Orange-blossoms, are much used in temples.——Thunberg relates that the ladies of Batavia, when in the evening they pay visits to one another, are decorated in a particular manner about the head with a wreath of flowers of the Nyctanthes, run upon a thread. “These flowers are brought every day fresh to town for sale. The smell of them is inconceivably delightful, like that of Orange and Lemon-flowers: the whole house is filled with the fragrant scent, enhancing, if possible, the charms of the ladies’ company.”——At Goa, this flower is called Parizataco, a name given to it from the following circumstances:—A governor, named Parizatacos, had a beautiful daughter, who inspired the Sun with passionate love; but after a time he transferred his affections to another, and the poor deserted one was seized with such despair, that at last she put an end to her existence. Over her grave sprang up the Parizataco, or Night Jasmine, the flowers of which have such a horror of the Sun, that they always avoid gazing on it.

Saffron.—See Crocus.

SAGE.—Many species of Sage are highly esteemed in European countries for their medicinal qualities, and most of the continental names of the plant are like the botanical one of Salvia, from Salvo, to save or heal. The ancients ascribed to the herb manifold virtues, and regarded it as a preserver of the human race (“Salvia, Salvatvix, naturæ conciliatrix.”).——In mediæval times, the plant, on account of its numerous properties, obtained the name of Officinalis Christi, and was reported to have been blessed by the Virgin Mary.——So wholesome was the herb considered, that the school of Salerno summed up its surpassing merits in the line—

> “Cur morietur homo cui Salvia crescit in horto?”

> “How can a man die who grows Sage in his garden?”

Probably this saying gave rise to the piece of advice contained in the old English proverb—

“He that would live for aye
Must eat Sage in May.”

Parkinson remarks that “Sage is much used in the month of May, fasting, with butter and Parsley, and is held of most to conduce much to the health of man,” and Turner says that “it restores natural heat, and comforts the vital spirits, and helps the memory, and quickens the senses; it is very healthful to be eaten in May with butter, and also to be drank in ale.” The Greeks of Crete (where Sage is grown abundantly) are very careful to gather the herb either on the first or second day of May, before sunrise.——In Sussex, to charm away ague fits, the peasantry eat Sage-leaves fasting for nine mornings consecutively. In Franche-Comté, the herb is believed to mitigate grief, moral as well as physical.——In Piedmont, there exists a tradition that if Sage is placed in a glass phial and buried beneath a dung-heap, a certain animal will grow, the blood of which, if tasted by dogs, will cause them to lose consciousness. There exists, also, a belief among Piedmontese girls that in every Sage-leaf is concealed a little toad; and Robert Turner, in his work on English plants (1687), states that “Rue is good to be planted amongst Sage, to prevent the poison which may be in it by toads frequenting amongst it, to relieve themselves of their poison, as is supposed; but Rue being amongst it, they will not come near it.”——There is an old superstition that, with the aid of Sage, young women may see their future husbands by practising the following extraordinary spell:—On Midsummer Eve, just after sunset, three, five, or seven young women are to go into a garden, where there is no other person, and each is to gather a sprig of Red Sage, and then, going into a room by themselves, set a stool in the middle of the room, and on it a clean bason full of Rose-water, on which the sprigs of Sage are to be put; and tying a line across the room, on one side of the stool, each maiden is to hang on it a clean smock, turned the wrong side outwards; then all are to sit down in a row, on the opposite side of the stool, as far distant as the room will allow, in perfect silence. At a few minutes after twelve, each maid’s future husband will take her sprig of Sage out of the Rose-water and sprinkle her smock with it.——Sage is held to be a herb of Jupiter.

SAINFOIN.—As at present applied, the name Sainfoin appertains to Hedysarum Onobrychis, but the name was first given to the Lucerne Medicago sativa. Sainfoin was, in earlier times, called Holy Hay; the smell of this plant is supposed to excite the braying of asses; hence the specific name is taken from two Greek words, signifying an ass, and to bray. An Indian species (H. gyrans), which grows on the banks of the Ganges, exhibits a singular instance of spontaneous motion: its leaves constantly move up and down, now with sudden jerks, anon with a gentle waving motion. By day or night, and in whatever weather, this plant is never at rest.

SAINTS’ PLANTS.—In monastic days, certain plants received the names of saints either from some peculiarity in their structure, or from their association with the objects of which the saint whose name the particular plant bore was patron. Thus St. Anthony, the patron saint of pigs, gave his name to the Bunium flexuosum (St. Anthony’s Nut), and the Ranunculus bulbosus (St. Anthony’s Rape). St. James’s-wort was so called because it was used for the diseases of horses, of which the saint was patron. St. Thomas, St. Christopher, and St. Benedict have each given their names to plants. The Nigella Damascena is St. Katherine’s Flower, from its resemblance to her wheel. The Saxifraga umbrosa obtained the name of St. Patrick’s Cabbage because it grew in the West of Ireland, where St. Patrick lived. The Primula veris is St. Peter’s-wort from its resemblance to a bunch of keys. Most of these saintly names were, however, given to the plants because their day of flowering is connected with the feast day of the saint. Hence Hypericum quadrangulare is the St. Peter’s-wort of the modern floras, from its flowering on the twenty-ninth of June; Hypericum perforatum is St. John’s-wort, being gathered to scare away demons on St. John’s Eve; Barbarea vulgaris, growing in the winter, is St. Barbara’s-cress, her day being the fourth of December, old style; and Centaurea solstitialis derives its specific Latin name, as well as its popular name, St. Barnaby’s Thistle, from its flourishing on the longest day, the eleventh of June, old style, which is now the twenty-second.

SAINT JOHN’S WORT.—The common St. John’s Wort (Hypericum perforatum) has leaves marked with red blood-like spots, which tradition avers always appear on the 29th August, the day on which St. John was beheaded; but the plant derived its name from its being, according to ancient custom, gathered with great ceremony on the eve of St. John’s Day, the 24th of June, to be hung up in windows as a preservative against evil spirits, phantoms, spectres, storms, and thunder; whence it derived its ancient name of Fuga Dæmonum (Devil’s Flight).

“St. John’s Wort, scaring from the midnight heath
The witch and goblin with its spicy breath.”

For the same reason, the plant was also called Sol Terrestris, the Terrestrial Sun, because it was superstitiously believed that all the spirits of darkness vanish at the approach of the sun; and St. John’s Day falls on the summer solstice, the 24th day of June, the last of the three days which mark the culminating point of the solar ascension—the day when, in some latitudes, the sun never sets, and the heavens are illuminated and radiant with its glory through the night. The bright yellow blossom of the Hypericum perforatum, with its glittering golden stamens, was not inappropriately called Sol Terrestris, as symbolising the sun (which, by its effulgence, disperses all evil spirits), and St. John the Baptist, of whom the Scriptures say he was “a light to them which sit in darkness.”——At the present time this plant is almost everywhere known by the name connecting it with the saint. The peasantry of France and Germany still gather it on St. John’s Day to hang over their cottage doors or in the windows, in the belief that its sanctity will drive away evil spirits of all kinds, and will also propitiate their patron saint.——In Switzerland, young girls on the Eve of St. John make nosegays composed of nine different flowers, of which the principal one is the Hypericum, or St. John’s Wort. These nine flowers are plucked from nine different places. The posy is placed beneath the maiden’s pillow before she retires to bed, and she then endeavours to sleep and dream: should she, in her dream, see a young man, he will not fail soon to arrive and to make her his wife.——Somewhat similar customs to this, in connection with the Rose, the Moss-Rose, and the Sage, exist in England, one of which is, perhaps, referred to by Harte, who, when alluding to certain flowers, adds:—

“And that which on the Baptist’s vigil sends
To nymphs and swains the vision of their friends.”

In Lower Saxony, the peasant girls on the Eve of St. John hang sprigs of Hypericum against the head of their bed or the walls of their chambers; if it remains fresh on the following morning, they are persuaded they will be married within a year; but if, on the contrary, it droops and fades, they have no hope of marriage within that time.

“The young maid stole through the cottage-door,
And blush’d as she sought the plant of power;
‘Thou silver glow-worm, O lend me thy light!
I must gather the mystic St. John’s Wort to-night,
The wonderful herb whose leaf will decide
If the coming year will make me a bride.’”

In Italy, the Hypericum is called both St. John’s Wort and the Devil-chaser. On the Night of St. John it is worn about the person, as a preservative from witchcraft and sorcery, and it is suspended over doorways and windows with the same object.——In Scotland, it is carried about as a charm against witchcraft and enchantment, and the peasantry fancy it cures ropy milk, which they suppose to be under some malignant influence. According to Pennant, it is customary in Wales to stick sprigs of St. John’s Wort over every door on the Eve of St. John’s; and Stowe, in his ‘Survey of London,’ tells us that, “on the Vigil of St. John the Baptist, every man’s door being shadowed with green Birch, long Fennel, St. John’s Wort, Orpine, white Lilies, and such like, garnished upon with garlands of beautiful flowers, had also lamps of glass with oil burning in them all the night.”——The peasantry of the Isle of Man have a tradition that if you tread on the St. John’s Wort after sunset, a fairy horse will rise from the earth, and, after carrying you about all night, will leave you in the morning wherever you may chance to be at sunrise.——St. John’s Wort was by old medical writers deemed of great utility in the cure of hypochondriacal disorders, and B. Visontius commends the herb to one troubled with heart-melancholy. For this purpose it was to be gathered on a Friday, in the hour of Jupiter, when he comes to his effectual operation (that is, about the full moon in July); “so gathered, and borne or hung about the neck, it mightily helps this affection, and drives away all phantastical spirits.” Another remarkable quality ascribed to the plant was its power of curing all sorts of wounds: hence originated its old name of Tutsan, a corruption of its French cognomen la Toute-saine, or All-heal. In Sicily, they gather Hypericum perforatum, and immerse it in Olive-oil, which is by this means transformed into an infallible balm for wounds. A salve made from the flowers, and known as St. John’s Wort salve, is still much used and valued in English villages: it is a very old remedy, whose praises have been spoken by Dioscorides and Pliny, Gerarde, Culpeper, and all the old English herbalists. As these flowers, when rubbed between the fingers, yield a red juice, it has, among fanciful medical men, obtained the name of sanguis hominis (human blood).

SALLOW.—The Sallow (Salix caprea) is the Selja of the Norsemen, an ill-omened plant possessing many magical properties. No child can be born in safety where a branch of this sinister tree is suspended; and no spirit can depart in peace from its earthly frame, if it be near them. It is the badge of the Scottish Clan Cumming.

SAL-TREE.—The Sâla or Sâl (Shorea robusta) is one of the sacred trees of India. According to the Buddhists’ belief, it was while holding in her hand a branch of the sacred Sâla, that the mother of Buddha gave birth to the divine infant prince. It was beneath the shelter of two twin Sâl-trees, that Buddha passed his last night on earth, near Kuçinagara, “beneath a rain of flowers, with which the Sâl-tree growing there covered his venerated body.” Thus we read in Da Cunha’s ‘Life of Buddha’—“He then retired to Kuçinagara, and entered a grove of Sâl-trees (Shorea robusta); there, during the night, he received a gift of food from an artizan named Chanda, and was seized with illness. At early dawn next day, as he turned on to his right side with his head to the north, the Sâl-trees bending down to form a canopy over his body, he ceased to breathe.” It was not the season for Sâl-trees to bloom, but the twin trees beneath which he lay were covered with blossoms from crown to foot. Blossoms fell down on him, a shower of flowers fell from heaven, and heavenly melodies sounded over head as the Perfect One passed away. At the moment of his death, the earth quaked, thunders rolled, and the wife of Brahma announced the entry of Buddha into Paradise.

SAMI.—The Indians employ the wood of Sami (Mimosa Suma) a species of Acacia for the production of fire in their sacrifices. For this purpose they rub a stick of Asvattha (representing the male element) against a stick of the Acacia Sami (regarded as the female symbol), in accordance with the Indian legend which relates how Pururavas, the Indian Prometheus, created fire by rubbing two woods together. At Indian weddings, after the sacrifice has been made, the husband and wife take in their hands some Rice (symbol of abundance) and some leaves of Sami (symbol of generation). Before building a house, it is customary to sprinkle the site by dipping a branch of Sami into some holy water. In the same way, the Indians sprinkle the spot when a grave is to be made.

SAMPHIRE.—Samphire (Crithmum maritimum) grows on the rocky cliffs of our Southern shores, the name being a corruption of St. Pierre. The plant, from its love of sea-cliffs, was long ago dedicated to the fisherman saint, whose name in Greek (petros) signifies a rock. Samphire used formerly to be gathered from the cliffs at Dover by men suspended from the summit by a rope: hence Shakspeare’s lines in ‘King Lear’:—

“How fearful
And dizzy ’tis to cast one’s eyes so low!
The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
Show scarce so gross as beetles: half-way down
Hangs one that gathers Samphire—dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.”

By astrologers Samphire is placed under the influence of Jupiter.

SAMOLUS.—The Samolus was a plant held in high esteem by the Druids. It grew in damp places, and was only to be gathered by a person fasting—without looking behind him—and with his left hand. It was laid in troughs and cisterns where cattle drank, and when bruised was a cure for various distempers.

SANDAL.—The Sandal-wood of India (Santalum album) is a small tree celebrated by the poets on account of its beauty and the perfume of its wood, which is used as incense in temples and also for medicinal purposes. In Hindu temples, the Du, or god, is, before the services, anointed with oil of Sandal-wood or with Sandal dust and water, and adorned with flowers; he is also presented with Betel-leaves. The Chinese Buddhists give the Sandal a place in the celebrated groves of their Paradise, and they say that the chariot of the Sun is made of gold and Sandal-wood. In an Indian religious fête called Mariatta Codam, the devotees anoint themselves with Saffron ointment, and go about collecting alms, in return for which they distribute scented sticks, partly composed of Sandal-wood, which are received with great veneration. In the Burman empire, it is customary on the 12th of April (the last day of their calendar) for ladies to sprinkle with Rose-water and Sandal-wood all they meet, to wash away the impurities of the past year, and commence the new one free from sin. The Mussulmans of India in all their religious ceremonies burn ood, an incense compound of Sandal-wood, Aloe, Patchouli, Benzoin, &c. Sundul, or Sandal-wood ointment, is likewise used in innumerable instances for religious purposes; and it is employed to exorcise evil spirits. Magic circles, squares, and figures are drawn on a plank with Sundul, and the individual supposed to be possessed of a demon is made to sit in the centre: then the exorciser pronounces an incantation in Arabic, and burns some incense under the nose of the patient, who solemnly inhales the fumes, and by that means smokes out the demon. The Parsis, who are followers of Zoroaster, renew the undying sacred fire of their altars with Sandal and other precious woods.

SANICLE.—The healing virtues of the Sanicle (Sanicula) have, in England, passed into a proverb: “He that hath Sanicle needeth no surgeon;” whilst the French have a corresponding old saying, recording its curative powers:—

“Qui a la Bugle et la Sanicle
Fait au chirurgions la nicle.”
“Who Bugle and Sanicle hath
May safely at the surgeons laugh.”

In England, it was in former days called Self-heal, for according to one old herbalist, it would “make whole and sound all wounds and hurts, both inward and outward.”——Sanicle is held to be under the rule of Venus.

SARDEA.—It is considered that the Sium latifolium is the plant known by the ancients as Sardea, which was supposed to grow in Sardinia, and which possessed the singular power of provoking sardonic laughter. Sallust speaks of this mystic plant as resembling Celery.

SATYRION.—The appellation of Satyrion (from the Greek Saturos, a Satyr) is applied to several species of Orchis, from their reputed aphrodisiac character. The Romans believed that the roots of these plants formed the food of the Satyrs, and, on account of its exciting nature, prompted them to commit those excesses which were one of their characteristics.——In Gerarde’s ‘Herbal,’ we read that most of these plants were used for the purpose of exciting the amatory passions: some of them were called Serapiades, because “sundry of them do bring forth floures resembling flies and such like fruitful and lascivious insects, as taking their name from Serapias [Serapis], the god of the citizens of Alexandria, in Egypt, who had a most famous temple at Canopus, where he was worshipped with all kinds of lascivious wantonnesse, songs and dances.” Turner says of the roots of Satyrion, that all the species have a double root, which alter every year, “when one waxeth full, the other perisheth and groweth lank.” The full root, he says, powerfully excites the passions, but the lank ones have exactly the opposite effect.——Astronomers place Satyrion under the rule of Venus.

SAVIN.—The Savin (Juniperus Sabina), in some parts of Italy, is held in great abhorrence as a plant of evil repute: it is called the “Devil’s-tree,” and the “Magician’s Cypress,” on account of the great use of it made in olden times by sorcerers and witches when working their spells.——Savin is reputed by astrologers to be a herb of Mars.

SAVORY.—Savory or Satureia was considered by the ancients as a herb belonging to the Satyrs; hence matrons were specially warned to have nothing to do with it, as the plant was supposed to have disastrous effects on those about to become mothers.——Savory is held to be under the dominion of Mercury.

SAXIFRAGE.—Of the genus Saxifraga, twenty species are indigenous to Great Britain. In olden times, it was noticed that these plants split rocks by growing in their cracks, so, on the doctrine of signatures, certain of the species were supposed to be efficacious in cases of calculus, and were indeed highly esteemed on that account by the Roman physicians. In England, the name Breakstone was bestowed on them for the same reason; the plants most employed by the herbalists being the Meadow Saxifrage, or Mead Parsley, the White Saxifrage, and the Burnet Saxifrage. To this family of plants belongs S. umbrosa, the familiar London Pride, known also by the names of None-so-pretty, Prattling Parnell, and St. Patrick’s Cabbage (from its growing in the West of Ireland).——Astrologers state that the Moon governs the Saxifrages.

Scorpion Grass.—See Forget-me-Not.

Sea Holly.—See Eryngo.

SEA POPPY.—The Sea Poppy or Horned Poppy (Glaucium) is named after Glaucus, a Bœotian fisherman, who, whilst pursuing his calling, observed that all the fishes which he laid on the grass received fresh vigour as they touched the ground, and immediately escaped from him by leaping back into the sea. He attributed the cause of it to some herb growing among the grass, and upon tasting the foliage of the Sea Poppy, he found himself suddenly moved with an intense desire to live in the sea. Upon this he leaped into the water, and was made a sea god by Oceanus and Tethys. This Glaucium or Sea Poppy was called in the middle ages Ficus infernalis: it was supposed to possess magical properties, and was prized by witches and sorcerers, who used it in their incantations. Ben Jonson, in the ‘Witches’ Song,’ says:—

“Yes, I have brought to help our vows,
Horned Poppy, Cypress-boughs,
The Fig-tree wild that grows on tombs,
And juice that from the Larch-tree comes.”

Borlase tells us that, in the Scilly Isles, “this root (the Sea Poppy), so much valued for removing all pains in the breast, stomach, and intestines, is good also for disordered lungs, and is so much better here than in other places, that the apothecaries of Cornwall send hither for it; and some people plant them in their gardens in Cornwall, and will not part with them under sixpence a root. A very simple notion they have with regard to this root, which falls not much short of the Druids’ superstition in gathering and preparing their Selago and Samolus. This root, you must know, is accounted very good both as an emetic and cathartic. If, therefore, they design that it shall operate as the former, their constant opinion is that it should be scraped and sliced upwards—that is, beginning from the root, the knife is to ascend towards the leaf; but if it is intended to operate as a cathartic, they must scrape the root downwards.”

SELAGO.—Selago was the name of a herb held in great repute by the Druids, and intimately connected with some of their mysterious rites. It was known as the Golden Herb or Cloth of Gold, and was reputed to confer the power of understanding the language of birds and beasts. It is variously supposed to have been the Club-Moss (Lycopodium Selago), the Camphorosma Monspeliaca, or a kind of Hedge Hyssop, which used in olden times to be called Gratiola and Dei Gratia, and was regarded as a charm as well as a medicine. Pliny, in his ‘Natural History’ (xxiv., 62), tells us with respect to the Druidic Selago, that it resembles Savin; and that it is gathered as if by stealth, without the use of iron. The person who gathers it must go barefoot, with feet washed, clad in white, having previously offered a sacrifice of bread and wine, and must pluck the plant with his right hand through the left sleeve of his tunic. It is carried in a new cloth. The Druids of the Gauls asserted that it was to be regarded as useful against all diseases, and that its smoke was a remedy for all affections of the eyes.——In Johnson’s edition of Gerarde’s ‘Herbal,’ it is said that the Club Moss, or Heath Cypress, is thought to be the Selago mentioned by Pliny. “The catkins of this plant are described as being of a yellowish colour; and it is stated to be found growing in divers woody, mountainous places of Germany, where they call it Wald Seuenbaum, or Wilde Savine.”——In his work on the Druids, called the ‘Veil of Isis,’ Mr. Reade gives a similar account of the gathering of the Selago, excepting that he states it was cut with a brazen hook. He further tells of a mysterious sisterhood of Druidesses who inhabited the island of Sena (now Sain) at the mouth of the River Loire, where there was a Druidic oracle. These Sibyls devoted themselves chiefly to the service of the Moon, and worshipped her under the name of Kêd or Ceridwen, the Northern name for the Egyptian Isis. They consecrated a herb to her called Belinuncia, in the poisonous sap of which they dipped their arrows to render them deadly. It was one of their rites to procure a virgin, and to denude her as an emblem of the moon in an unclouded sky. Then they sought for the mystic Selago, or Golden Herb. She who pressed it with her foot slept, and heard the language of animals. If she touched it with iron, the sky grew dark and a misfortune fell upon the world.

“The herb of gold is cut: a cloud
Across the sky hath spread its shroud
To war.”

When they had found the precious herb, the virgin traced the circle round it, and covering her hand in a white linen cloth which had never before been used, rooted it out with the tip of her little finger—a symbol of the crescent moon. Then they washed it in a running spring, and having gathered green branches, plunged into a river and splashed the virgin, who was thus supposed to resemble the moon clouded with vapours. When they retired, the virgin walked backwards, “that the moon might not return upon its path in the plain of the heavens.”

Self-heal.—See Sanicle.

SENSITIVE-PLANT.—The leaves of most species of the genus Mimosa are more or less sensitive to the touch, but M. pudica is the true Sensitive Plant, of which Browne writes:—

“Looke at the Feeling-plant, which learned swaines
Relate to growe on the East Indian plaines,
Shrinkes up his dainty leaves if any sand
You throw thereon, or touch it with your hand.”

SERVICE-TREE.—The true Service-tree is thought by some to have obtained its name from the Latin word cervisia, because from ancient times its fruit has been used for making a fermented liquor of the nature of beer. In France, the Service or Sorb-tree is called Sorbier or Cormier, and an excellent drink, something like Cider, is made from its berries.——De Gubernatis tells us that among the Fins the Sorb is specially reverenced above all trees. In the poem ‘Kalevala’ allusion is made to a nymph of the Sorb-tree (Sorbus terminalis), who is regarded as the protectress of cattle. The Finnish shepherd sticks his staff of Sorb-wood in the middle of a field, and offers up his prayers for the safety of his flock. A branch of the Sorb-tree is the symbol of the lightning, which, according to the Vedic legend, first brought fire to the earth, whilst imparting it to certain privileged trees—on which it fell, not to destroy them, but to conceal itself.——Among the superstitious Scandinavian and German peasantry the Sorb is esteemed a magical tree, typical of fecundity and generation; it is also regarded as a funereal tree, and Mannhardt relates an Icelandic legend, according to which the Sorb sprang from the bodies of two young men, who, although quite innocent, had been condemned to death.

SESAME.—It is from the delightful story of ‘The Forty Thieves,’ in the ‘Arabian Nights’ Entertainment,’ that most English people have become acquainted with the Sesame—the wondrous plant that at the command of Ali Baba—“Open, Sesame!”—gained him an entrance to the secret treasure-cave. In this capacity of opening the doors of caverns, &c., the Sesamum-flower resembles the Springwort, and, like that mystic plant, would seem to be an embodiment of lightning, if we may judge from its Indian name of Vajrapushpa, Thunderbolt-flower.——Gerarde, in his ‘Herbal,’ speaks of it as “the oily pulse called Sesamum” (or Sesama), and says “it is one of the summer grains, and is sown before the rising of the seven stars, as Pliny writeth.”——The plant is a native of the East Indies, and the Hindus say that it was created by Yama, the god of death, after a lengthy penance. They employ it specially in funeral and expiatory ceremonies as a purificator and as a symbol of immortality. In their funeral rites in honour of the departed, they pour Sesame grain into the three sacrificial vases, wherein the sacred Kusa and the holy oil have already been placed, the while invoking the pulse as “the Sesame consecrated to the god Soma.” At the annual festival in honour of the childless god Bhishma, the four Indian castes pray for the departed god, and by this act of piety procure for themselves absolution for all sins committed during the past year, provided that, at the conclusion of the ceremony, an offering is made of water, Sesame, and Rice. Sesame, with Rice and honey, enters into the composition of certain funeral cakes offered to the Manes in the ceremonies, but eaten by the persons present. The Indian funeral offering, made at six different periods, is called “the offering of six Sesames,” and if this is faithfully made, the natives hope to be delivered from misfortune on earth and to be rewarded with a place in the heaven of Indra. At an Indian funeral, when the corpse has been burnt, the devotees bathe in a neighbouring river, and leave on its banks two handfuls of Sesame, as nourishment for the soul of the departed whilst on its funeral journey, and as a symbol of the eternal life offered to the deceased.

SHAMROCK.—The word Shamrock (which means Little Trefoil) is from the Erse seamrog, a diminutive of seamar, Trefoil. The Shamrock, or Trefoil, in heraldry, is the badge of the kingdom of Ireland, and St. Patrick, the patron saint of that isle, is represented in the habit of a bishop, holding a Trefoil—St. Patrick’s Cross, as it is called by Irishmen. It is said that St. Patrick, when on an evangelising mission in Ireland, made the doctrine of the Trinity, one day, the subject of his discourse. Finding his hearers unable to understand it, he plucked a leaf of Shamrock, and used it as an illustration. So easy and simple was the application, that their difficulties were removed, and they accepted Christianity. Ever since, the Shamrock has been the national emblem of Irishmen, and has been worn by them for many centuries on the 17th of March, which is the anniversary of St. Patrick. As to what was the herb which furnished the saint with so excellent an illustration of the Three in One, there is amongst botanists much dispute, but the plants that for a long time past have been sold in Dublin and London on St. Patrick’s Day as the national badge are the Black Nonsuch (Medicago lupulina), and the Dutch Clover (Trifolium repens). Several writers have advocated the claims of the Wood Sorrel (Oxalis acetosella), which is called by the old herbalists Shamrog, and is proved in olden times to have been eaten by the Irish,—one old writer, who visited their country in the sixteenth century, stating that it was eaten, and that it was a sour plant. Wood Sorrel is a sour-tasting plant, is indigenous to Ireland, and is trifoliated. It grows in woods, where the people used to assemble, and where the priests taught and performed their mystic rites; and therefore it may have been the plant plucked by St. Patrick. It has also been contended that the Watercress (called “Shamrock” by Holinshed in 1586) was the plant gathered by the saint, but as its leaf is not trifoliate, this claim has not found much favour. The plant which is figured upon our coins, both English and Irish, is an ordinary Trefoil. Queen Victoria placed the Trefoil in her royal diadem in lieu of the French Fleur-de-lis.

SHEPHERD’S PURSE.—The Capsella Bursa is commonly known as Pickpocket or Pickpurse, from its robbing the farmer by stealing the goodness of his land. It was known to our forefathers by the names of St. James’s-wort, Poor Man’s Parmacetty, Toywort, and Caseweed, and was considered to be “marvellous good for inflammation.” (See Clappedepouch.)

SHOLOA.—The Sholoa is a medicinal plant, employed by the Bushmen of South Africa. Before going into battle, they rub their hands with Sholoa, in order to be able to chafe the badly wounded to preserve their life. When they dig up this plant, they deem it necessary, to avert danger from themselves, to replant immediately a portion of the root, so that it may spring up again. Tradition says that a man who neglected this precaution was found speechless and motionless enveloped in the toils of serpents. These serpents were killed by the Bushmen in order to regain possession of the root, which was replanted. Their women are afraid of these roots, when freshly dug up; they are, therefore, always put into a bag before being taken into a hut.

SNOWDROP.—The Snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis) was formerly held sacred to virgins, and this may account for its being so generally found in the orchards attached to convents and old monastic buildings.

“A flow’r that first in this sweet garden smiled,
To virgins sacred, and the Snowdrop styled.”—Tickell.

It is also dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and a monkish tradition asserts that it blooms on the second of February, or Candlemas Day, the day kept in celebration as that on which the holy Virgin took the child Jesus to the Jewish Temple and there presented an offering. Hence the flower is called the Fair Maid of February; as on the Day of the Purification of the Virgin Mary her image used to be removed from the altar, and Snowdrops strewed over the vacant place.——The legendary account of the flower’s creation is as follows:—“An angel went to console Eve when mourning over the barren earth, when no flowers in Eden grew, and the driving snow was falling to form a pall for earth’s untimeous funeral after the fall of man; the angel, catching as he spoke a flake of falling snow, breathed on it, and bade it take a form, and bud and blow. Ere the flake reached the earth Eve smiled upon the beauteous plant, and prized it more than all the other flowers in Paradise, for the angel said to her:—

“‘This is an earnest, Eve, to thee,
that sun and summer soon shall be.’”

The angel’s mission being ended, away up to heaven he flew; but where on earth he stood, a ring of Snowdrops formed a posey.”——An old name for the plant was the Winter Gilliflower. Dr. Prior thinks that the name Snowdrop was derived from the German Schneetropfen, and that the “drop” does not refer to snow, but to the long pendants, or drops, worn by the ladies in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, both as earrings and hangings to their brooches, and which we see represented so often by Dutch and Italian painters of that period.——In some parts of England it is considered by the peasantry unlucky to take the first Snowdrop into a house—the flower being regarded as a death-token, inasmuch as it looks like a corpse in its shroud.

SOLANUM.—To this family belong the Love Apple, the Mad Apple, and the Bitter-Sweet. Several species of the genus Solanum are poisonous and highly dangerous plants. It is related that when Sweno, king of Norway, was besieging Duncan of Scotland in the town of Betha, Macbeth, his cousin, managed to leave the town, whereupon Duncan began to treat with the enemy as to the terms of a surrender, promising them a supply of provender. The Danes accepted the terms, and Duncan sent them their provisions, which they duly partook of; but soon after they were overcome by a profound lethargic sleep, for their wine and ale had been drugged with Solanum. In this condition they fell an easy prey to Macbeth, who attacked them and utterly routed their forces. Ten only of the soldiers, who had entertained suspicions with regard to Duncan’s gift of supplies, remained in their senses, and these carried off King Sweno, in a lifeless condition, to the mouth of the river Tay, and thence conveyed him home in a fishing-boat.

SOLOMON’S SEAL.—The appellation of Solomon’s Seal has been given to the Convallaria Polygonatum, because, on cutting the roots transversely, some scars are seen resembling the device known as Solomon’s Seal—a name given by the Arabs to a six-pointed star, formed by two equilateral triangles intersecting each other. To the old herbalists these marks (according to the doctrine of signatures) were an indication of the plant’s virtues or uses: it was sent to seal or consolidate wounds. Gerarde says: “That which might be written of the herbe as touching the knitting of bones, and that truely, would seeme with some incredible; but common experience teacheth that in the world there is not to be found another herbe comparable to it for the purposes aforesaid; and therefore, in briefe, if it be for bruises inward, the roots must be stamped, some ale or wine put thereto, strained, and given to drink. It must be given in the same manner to knit broken bones, against bruises, black or blew marks gotten by stripes, falls, or such like; against inflammation, tumours, or swellings, that happen unto members whose bones are broken, or members out of joynt, after restauration: the roots are to be stamped small, and applied pultesse or plaister wise, wherewith many great workes have been performed beyond credit.”——The plant is also known by the name of Lady’s Seal, Seal-wort, White-root, Ladder-to-heaven, and Jacob’s-ladder.——By astrologers it is held to be under the rule of Saturn.

SOMA.—The Soma, or Moon Plant, is one of the most sacred plants of India. It is supposed to be the Sarcostemma viminale, or Cyanchum viminale (Asclepias acida), which grows on the Coromandel hills and in the Punjâb. According to Dr. Haug, the plant at present used by the sacrificial priests of the Dekhan is not the sacred Soma of the Vedas, although it appears to belong to the same order. In the Hindu religion, by a truly mystic combination, Soma represents at once the moon or moon-god, the genius presiding over the Soma, and the plant itself. In the Vedic hymns to Soma, the notion of the plant predominates, but intermixed are references which are only applicable to the lunar character of the divinity. The description of the plant given in Garrett’s ‘Classical Dictionary of India’ is as follows:—“It grows to the height of about four or five feet, and forms a kind of bush consisting of a number of shoots, all coming from the same root; their stem is solid, like wood, the bark greyish, they are without leaves, the sap appears whitish, has a very stringent taste, is bitter but not sour; it is a very nasty drink, but has some intoxicating effect. The sap referred to is sharp and acid, and, according to Decandolle, would be poisonous if taken in large quantities; in many cases the nerves are affected by it, as if by a narcotic; but it is benumbing in its influence, as it hinders the activity of the nerves, without inducing sleep.” From this sacred plant, which has the mystic five white petals, is obtained a milky exudation (symbolising the motherhood of Nature), out of which is made the Vedic Amrita, a divine beverage that confers immortality; and, probably on this account, the plant itself is worshipped as a god. Thus we find it so addressed in a hymn from the Rigveda, translated by Muir:—

“We’ve quaffed the Soma bright,
And are immortal grown;
We’ve entered into light,
And all the gods have known.
What mortal now can harm,
Or foeman vex us more?
Through thee beyond alarm,
Immortal god! we soar.”

The Soma sap is used as the Soma drink for the initiation of the Djoga; it is said to produce the magical condition in which, raised above the universe to the great centre, and united with Brahma, the seer beholds everything.——In the Hindu worship, libations to the gods were of three kinds—butter, honey, and the fermented juice of the Soma-plant. The butter and honey were poured upon the sacrificial fire; the Soma juice was presented in ladles to the deities invoked, part sprinkled on the fire, part on the Kusa, or Sacred Grass, strewed upon the floor, and the rest invariably drunk by those who had conducted the ceremony. The exhilarating properties of the fermented juice of the Soma filled the worshippers with delight and astonishment; and the offering of this sacred liquid was deemed to be especially pleasing to the Hindu gods.——In the lunar sacrifices, the Soma drink was prepared with mystical ceremonies, with invocations of blessings and curses, by which the powers of the world above and below were incorporated with it. According to their intended use, various herbs were mixed with the principal ingredient. Windischmann remarks that the use of the Soma was looked upon in early ages as a holy action, and as a sacrament, by which the union with Brahma was produced; thus, in Indian writings, passages similar to the following, often occur: “Prâjapati himself drinks this milk, the essence of all nourishment and knowledge—the milk of immortality.”——The Gandharvas, a race of demigods, are represented in certain of the Vedic legends as custodians of the Soma or Amrita, and as keeping such close watch over the divine beverage, that only by force or cunning can the thirsty gods obtain a supply of the immortalising drink.——One of the Hindu synonymes of Soma is madhu, which means a mixed drink; and this word is the methu of the Greeks, and the mead of our own Saxon, Norse, and Celtic ancestors.

SORREL.—From May to August the meadows are often ruddy with the Sorrel (Rumex Acetosa), the red leaves of which point out the graves of the Irish rebels who fell on Tara Hill, in the “Ninety-Eight;” the popular and local tradition being that the plants sprang from the blood of the patriots shed on that occasion.——Sorrel is under the planetary influence of Venus.

SOW-THISTLE.—Theseus, king of Athens, is said to have received as a gift from the hands of Hecate, the Sow-thistle (Sonchus oleraceus) and the Sea Fennel (Crithmum maritimum). Like the Sesame, the Sow-thistle, according to tradition, sometimes conceals marvels or treasures; and in Italian stories are found the exclamation, “Open Sow-thistle,” used with the same magical results as attend the invocation of the Sesame. A Russian legend states that the Devil considers the Sow-thistle to be peculiarly his property, although in so doing he is in error (see Oats and Reed).——The Sow-thistle is considered by astrologers to be under the dominion of Venus.

SOUTHERNWOOD.—The Abrotanum (Southernwood) is a species of Wormwood, to which the Greeks and Romans, and in more recent times the Germans and French, attributed wonderful magic properties. According to Pliny, it should be classed as an aphrodisiac plant, for, if it be placed under a mattress, it will evoke sensual passions. Gerarde says the same thing; and adds that “it helpeth against the stinging of scorpions,” and that, “being strewed upon the bed, or a fume made of it upon hot embers, it driveth away serpents.” Lucan refers to this latter quality in the following lines (Book 9):—

“There the large branches of the long-lived hart,
With Southernwood their odours strong impart;
The monsters of the land, the serpents fell,
Fly far away, and shun the hostile smell.”

Macer Floridus states that it will drive away serpents; and Bauhin narrates that it used to be employed against epilepsy.——From an ointment made with its ashes, and used by young men to promote the growth of a beard, the plant obtained the name of Lad’s Love.——Astrologers place Southernwood under the rule of Mercury. (See also Mugwort and Wormwood.)

SPEEDWELL.—The Veronica Chamædrys appears in olden times to have been called “Forget-me-Not,” a name that has since been universally applied to the Myosotis. Now-a-days it is sometimes called by country folk Cat’s-eye. The plant derives its name of Speedwell from the fact of its corolla falling off and flying away as soon as it is gathered; “Speedwell” being the old-fashioned equivalent of “Good-bye!” The bright blue blossom of the Germander Speedwell is in some places better known as Veronica, an appellation derived from Vera (Latin) and Icon (Greek), and signifying “true image.”——When our Saviour was on his way to Mount Calvary, bearing his cross, he passed by the door of Veronica, a compassionate woman, who beholding with pity the Lord’s distressed condition, and the drops of agony on His brow, wiped His face with a kerchief, or napkin, and the features of the Redeemer remained miraculously impressed upon the linen. The kerchief itself was styled the Sudarium, and from some resemblance of the blossom of the Germander Speedwell to this saintly relic, bearing the features of Christ, the plant received the name of Veronica.——Francus wrote an entire work on the virtues of the Veronica orientalis, which is said to have cured a King of France of the leprosy and to have given children to a barren wife. R. Turner calls the plant Fluellin, or Lluellin—a name, he remarks, “the Shentleman of Wales have given it because it saved her nose, which disease had almost gotten from her.”

SPIGNEL.—Spignel (Meum athamanticum) is also known as Mew, Bear-wort, or Bald-money. The latter name is of obscure etymology, but we may safely reject the derivation which some writers have suggested from the name of the god Baldr, the Scandinavian Apollo.——Spignel is held to be under the rule of Venus. (See Baldmoney).

SPIKENARD.—We read in Canticles: “While the king sitteth at his table, my Spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof.” And again: “Thy plants are an orchard of Pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; Camphire, with Spikenard, Spikenard and Saffron.” The true nature of Spikenard has for ages been the subject of much controversy; but it is now generally accepted that it was obtained from the Valeriana Jatamansi. Ptolemy notices these odoriferous plants, the best of which grew at Rangamati, and on the borders of the country now called Bootan. Pliny says there are twelve varieties of it—the best being the Indian, the next in quality the Syriac, then the Gallic, and in the fourth place, that of Crete. He thus describes the Indian Spikenard: “It is a shrub with a heavy thick root, but short, black, brittle, and yet unctuous as well; it has a musty smell, too, very much like that of the Cyperus, with a sharp acrid taste, the leaves being small, and growing in tufts. The heads of the Nard spread out into ears; hence it is that Nard is so famous for its two-fold production, the spike or ear, and the leaf.” The price of genuine Spikenard was then one hundred denarii per pound, and all the other sorts, which were merely herbs, were infinitely cheaper, some being only worth three denarii per pound. Galen and Dioscorides give a somewhat similar account of Spikenard or Nardostachys, but the latter states that the so-called Syrian Nard came in reality from India, whence it was brought to Syria for shipment. Mr. E. Rimmel, in his ‘Book of Perfumes,’ points out that “the ancients appear to have confounded Spikenard with some of the fragrant Grasses of India, which would account for the report that Alexander the Great, when he invaded Gedrosia, could smell from the back of his elephant the fragrance of the Nard as it was trod upon by the horses feet. This error was shared by Linnæus, who did not attempt to classify the plant, but was inclined to think it was the same as the Andropogon Nardus, commonly called Ginger Grass. Sir William Jones, the learned orientalist, turned his serious attention to this question, and after a laborious investigation succeeded in establishing beyond doubt that the Spikenard of the ancients was a plant of the Valerianic order, called by the Arabs Sumbul, which means ‘spike,’ and by the Hindus Jatamansi, which signifies ‘locks of hair,’ both appellations being derived from its having a stem which somewhat resembles the tail of an ermine, or of a small weasel. He, consequently, gave it the name of Valeriana Jatamansi, under which it is now generally classed by botanists. It is found in the mountainous regions of India, principally in Bootan and Nepaul. Its name appears to be derived from the Tamil language, in which the syllable nár denotes any thing possessing fragrance, such as nártum pillu, ‘Lemon Grass;’ nárum panei, ‘Indian Jasmine;’ nártum manum, ‘Wild Orange,’ &c. It is highly probable, however, that the word Spikenard was often applied by the ancients as a generic name for every sort of perfume, as the Chinese now designate all their scents by the name of hëang, which properly means incense, it being for them the type of all perfumes.”——In an Indian poem, the hero, compelled to go upon his travels immediately after wedding the girl of his heart, takes leave of her in his garden, and showing her a Spikenard of his own planting, enjoins her to watch over it with loving care; for as long as it thrives all will go well with him, but should it wither some fatal misfortune will certainly befall him. Years pass away before he can turn his steps homewards. Then he assumes the garb of a mendicant, goes to his home, gains admission to the garden, and there sees his faithful wife weeping over the precious Spikenard, grown into a mighty plant, telling its own tale. The finish can well be guessed.

SPRINGWORT.—The Springwort, or Blasting-root, is famed in German legends for its magical power of opening locks, however strong, hidden doors, rocks, and secret entrances to caves where are stored inexhaustible treasures. In Kelly’s ‘Indo-European Tradition,’ we read that as a rule the Springwort has been regarded as an unknown species of plants, and therefore most difficult to find; but some few accounts specify known plants, and Grimm mentions the Euphorbia Lathyris, which he identifies with the Sferracavallo of the Italians, so named because it acts so potently on metals, that horses, if they tread on it, have their shoes drawn off. (The Sferracavallo, however, was stated by Mentzel in 1682 to be a Vetch now known as the Hippocrepis). The Springwort is procured by plugging up the hole in a tree in which a green or black woodpecker has its nest with young ones in it. As soon as the bird is aware of what has been done, it flies off in quest of a wondrous plant, which men might look for in vain, and returning with it in its bill, holds it before the plug, which immediately shoots out from the tree, as if driven by the most violent force. But if one conceals himself before the woodpecker returns, and scares it when it approaches, the bird will let the root fall; or a white or red cloth (representing water or fire) may be spread below the nest, and the bird will drop the root upon the cloth after it has served its own turn. This is Grimm’s version of the matter, and Pliny’s account coincides, except that he adds that the plug is driven out with an explosion, caused, as one may conclude, by the electricity contained in the plant which is applied to it by the bird. Now it is worthy of remark that the woodpecker is mythically alleged to be a fire- or lightning-bearer; and so is called by the Romans Picus Martius, after the god Mars, and Picus Feronius, from the Sabine goddess Feronia, who had a certain control over fire. In the Sanscrit, a species of Euphorbia is called the Thunderbolt Thorn, and some others are termed Thunderbolt-wood. It is curious to notice, by the way, that the Indian name of the Sesame-flower, Vajrapushpa, connects with the thunderbolt the flower that opens treasure-caves. In Swabia, they say that the hoopoe brings the Springwort, and lets it fall into water or fire to destroy it: to obtain it, therefore, one must have in readiness a pan of water, or kindle a fire; the original notion having been that the bird must return the plant to the element from which it springs,—that being either the water of the clouds, or the lightning-fire enclosed therein. The connection between the Springwort and the lightning is also manifested in an old Swabian tradition, that when the plant is buried in the ground at the summit of a mountain, it draws down the lightning, and divides the storm, causing it to pass off to right and left.——In the Oberpfalz, the Springwort is called Johanniswurzel, because it is there believed that it can only be found among the Fern on St. John’s Night. It is said to be of a yellow colour, and to shine in the night like a candle, resembling in this respect the Mandrake. Moreover, it never stands still, but darts about continually to avoid the grasp of men. Here then, in the luminosity and the power of rapid movement attributed to the Springwort, we see the embodiment of electricity in the plant.——In Switzerland, the Spreng-wurzel is carried in the right pocket, to render the bearer invulnerable to dagger or bullet; and in the Harz mountains it is said to reveal treasures.——With regard to this magical property of disclosing concealed treasures, a story is related by Kuhn in his North German Legends, from which we learn that a shepherd who was driving his flock over the Ilsenstein, having stopped to rest, leaning on his staff, the mountain suddenly opened, for there was a Springwort in his staff without his knowing it. Inside the mountain he discovered an enchanted princess, who bade him take as much gold as he pleased; so he filled his pockets, and then prepared to retire; but he had forgotten his staff with the Springwort in it, which he had laid against the wall when he stepped in; so that just as he was on the point of stepping out of the opening, the rock suddenly slammed together, and cut him in two. In this version of the German legend, the Luckflower is identified with the Springwort.

SPURGE LAUREL.—The Spurge Laurel, called in Denmark Ty-ved, is sacred to Tyr, the god of war. This plant is the badge of the Scottish Clan Graham.

SQUILL.—The Scilla maritima, or Sea Onion, was of old consecrated in Egypt to the god Typhon. The mummies of Egyptian women often hold the Squill in one hand, probably as an emblem of generation. The Egyptians planted the Squill in groves, and hung it in their houses to preserve them from evil spirits. In Arcadia, at the festival of the god Pan, the statue of the deity was decorated with Squills.

STAR OF BETHLEHEM.—The Ornithogalum umbellatum is called the Star of Bethlehem on account of its white stellate flowers resembling the pictures of the star that indicated the birth of the Saviour of mankind. As the plant is abundant in the neighbourhood of Samaria, it was thought by Linnæus and also by several biblical commentators to be the “dove’s dung” mentioned as the food of the famished inhabitants of that city during the siege recorded in the Book of Kings. The Star of Bethlehem is horological—it never unfolds its petals before eleven o’clock, and hence has acquired the nickname of the Eleven o’Clock Lady.

STOCK.—The Stock, or Stock-Gilliflower (Mathiola), was one of the earliest inmates of English gardens, where it was known as the Gilliflower, a word corrupted from the French name of the flower, Giroflée.

“The white and purple Gillyflowers, that stay
In blossom—lingering summer half away.”

The principal kinds grown in gardens are the Queen’s Stock-Gilliflower, of which the Brompton Stock and the White Stock are varieties, and the annual, or Ten-weeks’ Stock (M. annua). The old English name of Gilliflower was familiarly given to several other plants dear to early English gardeners: thus we find it applied to the Carnation, the Pink, the Rocket, the Wall-flower, the Ragged Robin, and some others. Parkinson (who is the first writer to mention the double Stock) remarks of the flower: “We call it in English generally Stock-Gilloflower (or as others do, Stock Gillover), to put a difference between them and the Gilloflowers and Carnations, which are quite of another kindred.” The word Gilliflower afterwards became corrupted to July-flower, and was so written by the poet Drayton.——Baron Cuvier had a great partiality for the double Stock: it had been the favourite flower of his mother, and the great naturalist, on that account, always prized the fragrant plant, and whilst it was in season made it a rule to have a bunch on his table, that he might inhale its grand perfume.

STONECROP.—Like the House-leek, the Stonecrop was supposed to be a protective against thunder and lightning, and hence was planted on the roofs of cottages, stables, &c. The old herbalists valued the small Houseleek, or Stonecrop, as a cure for ague and expeller of poisons. It was used as an outward application, and, when boiled in beer, was considered good for pestilential fevers. Among country folks the plant was known as Wall Pepper (from its pungent flavour), Jack of the Buttery, Gold Chain, and Prick Madam, the last name being a corruption of the French Trique Madame.——Stonecrop is held by astrologers to be under the dominion of the Moon.

STORAX.—The Styrax, or Storax-tree, has been held in great estimation from the time of Dioscorides and Pliny, both of whom described it. Although the tree is indigenous to many of the southern parts of Europe, yet the precious and deliciously fragrant gum that exudes from it, known as Storax-tears, can only be obtained in perfection from Asiatic Turkey. Old Gerarde says “of this gum, there are made sundry excellent perfumes, pomanders, sweet waters, sweet bags, sweet washing-balls, and divers other sweet chains and bracelets.”——Storax-tears are still used as incense in the churches and mosques of Asia Minor.

STRAW.—In the Hávamál, or the ‘Divine Discourse of Odin,’ who gave these precepts of wisdom to mankind, it is stated that “Straws dissolve enchantment.” Hence, probably, was derived the custom of laying two Straws crosswise in the path where a witch was expected to pass, under the belief that by stepping over Straws, arranged so as to form the sign of the Cross, a witch was rendered powerless. In Ireland, on May-eve (neen na Beal tina), the ceremony is practised of making the cows leap over lighted Straw or faggots.——In Cornwall, lasses desirous of knowing when they are to be married, are accustomed to repair either to Madron Well, or to a well at St. Austell: there two pieces of Straw, about an inch long, are crossed and fastened by a pin. This Straw cross is then dropped into the water, and the rising bubbles carefully counted, as they mark the number of years which will pass ere the arrival of the happy day.——In Devonshire, to charm warts away, they take a Wheat Straw with as many knots as there are warts on the hand to be dealt with, name over the Straw the person afflicted, and then bury it: as it decays, the warts will disappear.——In the county of Donegal, Ireland, a sufferer from warts procures ten Straws, ties a knot in each, throws the tenth away, and carefully rubs the warts with the other nine knotted Straws; this done, he makes a white paper parcel of the Straws, and throws it upon the high road, sure that the person who picks up and opens the parcel will become the possessor of the warts.——An old German cure for sleeplessness was to place beneath the pillow a “composing wisp,” that is Straw which workwomen put under the burdens on their backs; but taken from people unknown to them.——If a hen wants to sit, the German peasants make her nest of Straw out of the bed of the husband and wife: if cock chickens are wished, from the man’s side; if hen chickens, from the wife’s side.——A Swedish popular tale narrates how a king’s son, passing a cottage one day, saw a pretty girl sitting on the roof spinning. Curious to know why she chose so unusual a place, he enquired of the girl’s mother, who told him that she sat there to let the people see how clever she was; adding, “She is so clever that she can spin gold from clay and long Straw.” The truth was, the girl, although good-looking, was idle in the extreme, and had been set to spin on the roof of the cot so that all the world might judge of her sloth. The king’s son, however, knew naught of this, and being captivated by the girl’s pretty face, he resolved, if she could really spin gold from long Straw and clay, to take her to the palace, and make her his consort. The mother having given her consent, the girl accompanied the prince to the royal residence, where she was given a bundle of Straw, and a pailful of clay, in order to prove if she were so skilful at spinning as her mother had said. The poor girl, knowing her incompetence, soon began to weep when left by herself in her chamber; whereupon suddenly a little ugly and deformed old man stood before her, and demanded to know the cause of her grief. The girl told him; and forthwith the old man produced a pair of gloves, which he gave to the girl, saying, “Fair maiden, weep not: here is a pair of gloves; when thou hast them on, thou wilt be able to spin from long Straw and clay. To-morrow night I will return, when, if thou hast not found out my name, thou shalt accompany me home, and be my bride.” The brave girl shuddered, but agreed to the old man’s condition, and he went his way. Then she pulled on the gloves, and, without difficulty, soon spun up all the Straw and clay into the finest gold. There was great joy in the palace, and the king’s son was delighted that he had obtained so charming and so skilful a wife; but the young maiden did nothing but weep at the dread prospect of being claimed by the ugly, undersized old man. Late in the day, the king’s son returned from the chase, and seeing his bride so melancholy, began to tell her of an adventure he had just met with in the forest. Said he: “I suddenly came upon a very little ugly old man dancing round a Juniper-bush, singing a curious song, at the end of which he loudly bawled, ‘I am called Titteli Ture.’” Then the pretty maid’s face brightened up, for she knew that she had learnt the name of her mysterious visitor. So she set to work to spin more gold from Straw and clay alone in her chamber, and kept repeating the old man’s name, so that she might not forget it. At midnight the door of her room noiselessly opened, and the hideous old man entered with beaming eyes. On beholding him the girl sprang up, and said: “Titteli Ture, Titteli Ture, here are thy gloves.” When the dwarf heard his name pronounced, he was overcome with passion, and bursting through the roof of the apartment, hastened away through the air. The maiden was espoused by the king’s son the following day, and nothing more was ever seen of Titteli Ture.

STRAWBERRY.—Strawberries were reputed to be the favourite fruit of the goddess Frigg, who presided over marriages. In German legends, Strawberries symbolise little children who have died when young. According to one of these legends, before St. John’s Day mothers who have lost their little ones take care not to eat Strawberries, because they think that young children ascend to heaven concealed in Strawberries. Mothers who eat Strawberries are considered to have wronged the Virgin Mary, to whom the Strawberry is dedicated, and who would assuredly refuse an entry into heaven to those children whose mothers had defrauded her of the fruit specially set apart for her.——A representation of the leaf of the Strawberry is set in the gold coronets worn by certain of the English nobility: a duke’s coronet has eight leaves, an earl’s eight, and that of a marquis four. Strawberry-leaves and the Flower-de-luce are used in the coronets of the younger members of the royal family. Don John, son of King John I. of Portugal, adopted the Strawberry as his device, to show his devotion to St. John the Baptist, who lived on fruits. It is mentioned by Hollinshed, and the fact has been dramatised by Shakspeare, that Glo’ster, when he was contemplating the death of Hastings, asked the Bishop of Ely for Strawberries.

“My lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn,
I saw good Strawberries in your garden there.”

Linnæus was cured of frequent attacks of gout by the use of Strawberries, and the fruit is accounted an excellent remedy in putrid fevers.——To dream of Strawberries is reputed to be a good omen: to a youth they are supposed to denote that “his wife will be sweet tempered, and bear him many children, all boys.”——A legend of the Fichtelgebirge (a mountain range at the junction of Saxony, Bavaria, and Bohemia) records that one Midsummer Day a woman went with her child to look for Strawberries in a wood. She chanced to light upon some plants, which when plucked in the night, were not to be exhausted; and after awhile she perceived a cavern which she entered with her child. Here, to her astonishment, lay heaps of gold scattered about; and three white maidens gave her permission to take as much of the treasure as she could collect with one grasp. Her greed, however, induced her to make three swoops, and then, fearful of the consequences, and forgetting her child, she rushed out of the hollow, when the entrance was immediately closed upon her, and a warning voice informed her that she could not regain her child until the next St. John’s Day. When this day arrived, the woman repaired to the cave, and found to her joy the entrance once more open, and her little one awaiting her with a rosy Apple in its hand. Disregarding the treasures scattered in the cave, the mother rushed with outstretched arms towards her child, and the white maidens finding that the mother’s love was stronger than her greed handed over the little one to her.——There is, in this district, another legend anent the gathering of Strawberries, which will be found under the head of Club Moss.

SUGAR-CANE.—In the Sugar plantations of the Indies, several superstitious ceremonies are preserved. It being customary to reserve a few plants, it sometimes happens after the fields are planted, that there remain several superfluous canes. Whenever this happens, the husbandman repairs to the spot on the 11th of June, and having sacrificed to the Nagbele, the tutelar deity of the Sugar-cane, he immediately kindles a fire, and consumes the whole. If a Sugar-cane should flower again at the end of the season, and produce seeds, it is looked upon as a funereal flower, and as portending misfortune to the owner of the estate or his family. If, therefore, a husbandman sees one of these late-flowering canes, he plucks it up, and buries it without allowing his master to know anything of the unfortunate occurrence, willingly taking to himself any ill-luck which may accrue.——The bow of Kâmadeva, the Indian Cupid, is sometimes represented as being formed of Sugar-cane, sometimes of flowers, with a string composed of bees. His five arrows were each tipped with a blossom, presented to Kâmadeva by Vasanta (Spring).

“He bends the luscious cane, and twists the string
With bees; how sweet! but ah! how keen their sting.
He, with five flow’rets tips thy ruthless darts,
Which through five senses pierce enraptured hearts;
Strong Champa, rich in odorous gold;
Warm Amer, nursed in heavenly mould;
Dry Makeser, in silver smiling;
Hot Kitticum our sense beguiling;
And last, to kindle fierce the scorching flame,
Love Shaft, which gods bright Bela name.”—Sir W. Jones.

SUNFLOWER.—The Helianthus annuus derived its name of Sunflower from its resemblance to the radiant beams of the Sun, and not, as is popularly supposed and celebrated by poets, from its flowers turning to face the Sun—a delusion fostered by Darwin, Moore, and Thompson, the latter of whom tells us that unlike most of the flowery race—

“The lofty follower of the Sun,
Sad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves,
Drooping all night, and, when he warm returns,
Points her enamour’d bosom to his ray.”

The Helianthus has also been falsely identified with the Sunflower of classical story—the flower into which poor Clytie was transformed when, heart-broken at the desertion of her lover Phœbus, she remained rooted to the ground, and became, according to Ovid, metamorphosed into a flower resembling a Violet. “Held firmly by the root, she still turns to the Sun she loves, and, changed herself, she keeps her love unchanged.” Now the Helianthus, or modern Sunflower, could not have been the blossom mentioned by Ovid, inasmuch as it is not a European plant, was not known in his day, and first came to us from North America. In its native country of Peru, the Helianthus is said to have been much reverenced on account of the resemblance borne by its radiant blossoms to the Sun, which luminary was worshipped by the Peruvians. In their Temple of the Sun, the officiating priestesses were crowned with Sunflowers of pure gold, and they wore them in their bosoms, and carried them in their hands. The early Spanish invaders of Peru found in these temples of the Sun numerous representations of the Sunflower in virgin gold, the workmanship of which was so exquisite, that it far out-valued the precious metal of which they were formed. Gerarde, writing in 1597, remarks:—“The floure of the Sun is called in Latine Flos Solis; for that some have reported it to turn with the Sunne, which I could never observe, although I have endeavoured to finde out the truth of it: but I rather thinke it was so called because it resembles the radiant beams of the Sunne, whereupon some have called Corona Solis and Sol Indianus, the Indian Sunne-floure: others Chrysanthemum Peruvianum, or the Golden Flower of Peru: in English, the Floure of the Sun, or the Sun-floure.” (See Heliotrope.)

SYCAMORE.—Sycamore is properly the name of an Egyptian tree, the leaves of which resemble those of the Mulberry and the fruit that of the wild Fig; whence it was named from both Sukomoros; sukon signifying a Fig, and moros a Mulberry-tree.——Thevenot gives an interesting tradition relating to one of these trees. He writes:—“At Matharee is a large Sycamore, or Pharaoh’s Fig, very old, but which bears fruit every year. They say, that upon the Virgin passing that way with her son Jesus, and being pursued by the people, this Fig-tree opened to receive her, and closed her in, until the people had passed by, when it re-opened; and that it remained open ever after to the year 1656, when the part of the trunk that had separated itself was broken away.” The tree is still shown to travellers a few miles north-east of Cairo.——Another version relates that the Holy Family, at the conclusion of their flight into Egypt, finally rested in the village of Matarea, beyond the city of Hermopolis, and took up their residence in a grove of Sycamores, a circumstance which gave the Sycamore-tree a certain degree of interest in early Christian times. The Crusaders imported it into Europe, and Mary Stuart, probably on account of its sacred associations, brought from France and planted in her garden the first Sycamores which grew in Scotland.——From the wood of this Egyptian Fig-tree or Sycamore (Ficus Sycomorus), which is very indestructible, the coffins of the Egyptian mummies were made.——By a mistake of Ruellius the name Sycamore became transferred to the Great Maple (Acer pseudoplatanus), which is the tree commonly known in England as the Sycamore or Mock-Plane. This mistake, Dr. Prior considers, may perhaps have arisen from the Great Maple having been, on account of the density of its foliage, used in the sacred dramas of the Middle Ages to represent the Fig-tree into which Zaccheus climbed on the day of our Saviour’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem—the Ficus Sycomorus mentioned above.

“Here a sure shade
Of barren Sycamores, which the all-seeing sun
Could not pierce through.”—Massinger.

In Scotland, the most remarkable Sycamores are those called Dool-trees or Grief-trees. They were used by the powerful barons in the west of Scotland for hanging their enemies and refractory vassals on.——The Great Maple is called in France, as with us, Sycomore or Faux Platane (Mock-Plane); the Italians call the same tree Acero Fico (Fig-Maple); but in both these countries there grows the Melia Azadirachta, or False Sycamore, which is called the Sacred Tree in France, and the Tree of Our Father in Italy. In Sicily, it is known as the Tree of Patience, and is regarded as emblematic of a wife’s infidelity and a husband’s patience.——To dream of the Sycamore-tree portends jealousy to the married; but to the virgin it prognosticates a speedy marriage. (See also Maple).

SYRINGA.—The Arcadian nymph Syrinx pursued by Pan, who was enamoured of her, fled to the banks of the river Ladon. Her flight being there stopped, she implored relief from the water-nymphs, and was changed into a Reed, just as Pan was on the point of catching her. Ovid thus describes her transformation:—

“Now while the lustful god, with speedy pace,
Just thought to strain her in a strict embrace,
He filled his arms with Reeds, new rising on the place;
And while he sighs his ill-success to find,
The tender canes were shaken by the wind,
And breathed a mournful air, unheard before;
That much surprising Pan, yet pleased him more.
Admiring this new music, ‘Thou,’ he said,
‘Who can’st not be the partner of my bed,
At least shall be the consort of my mind;
And often, often to my lips be joined.’
He formed the Reeds, proportioned as they are,
Unequal in their length, and waxed with care,
They still retain the name of his ungrateful fair.”—Dryden.

The Philadelphus coronarius is the shrub into which, according to Ovid, the nymph Syrinx was metamorphosed. The stems of this shrub are used in Turkey for making pipe-sticks. Evelyn applied the name Syringa also to the Lilac, which for the same reason was called “Pipe-tree.”

TAMARIND.—The Tamarindus Indica is in Ceylon dedicated to Siva, as the god of destruction. The natives of India have a prejudice against sleeping under the Tamarind, and the acid damp from the tree is known to affect the cloth of tents that are pitched under them for any length of time. So strong is the prejudice of the natives against the Tamarind-tree, that it is difficult to prevent them from destroying it, as they believe it hurtful to vegetation. It is chiefly cultivated for its seed-pods, which are used medicinally, and for food.——Dreams connected with Tamarinds are of ill omen, portending trouble, loss, and disappointment.——The Tamarind is held to be under the dominion of Venus.

TAMARISK.—The Tamarix orientalis is also known as the Tamarisk of Osiris. The ancient Egyptians believed that at the commencement of the world Osiris was born from the midst of chaos, from whence also proceeded his wife Isis, the Queen of Light, and Typhon, the Spirit of Darkness. Osiris was the ruler of all the earth; but Typhon, being jealous of him, seized him by strategy, nailed him in a chest, and cast it into the Nile, that it might float out to sea. Isis in despair wandered all over the country, searching for the dead body of her husband, and at length heard that the chest had been cast on shore at Byblos, and had there lodged in the branches of a Tamarisk-bush, which quickly shot up and became a large and beautiful tree, growing round the chest so that it could not be seen. The king of the country, amazed at the vast size of the Tamarisk-tree, ordered it to be cut down and hewn into a pillar to support the roof of his palace, the chest being still concealed in the trunk. Here it was discovered by Isis, who cut open the pillar, and took the coffin with her to Egypt, where she hid it in a remote place; but Typhon found it, and divided the corpse of Osiris into fourteen pieces. After a long and weary search, in which Isis sailed over the fenny parts of the land in a boat made of Papyrus, she recovered all the fragments except one, which had been thrown into the sea.——The Tamarix Gallica is called the Tamarisk of Apollo: the Apollo of Lesbos is represented with a branch of Tamarisk in his hand. Nicander called the Tamarisk the Tree of Prophecy. In Persia, the Magian priests (who claimed supernatural power) arrived at a knowledge of future events by means of certain manipulations of the mystic baresma, or bundle of thin Tamarisk twigs, the employment of which was enjoined in the Zendavesta books as essential to every sacrificial ceremony.——Herodotus informs us that the Tamarisk was employed for a similar purpose by other nations of antiquity; and Pliny states that the Egyptian priests were crowned with its foliage.——According to tradition, it was from Tamarisk-trees that the showers of Manna descended on the famishing Israelites in the desert.——At the present day, the Manna of Mount Sinai is produced by a variety of Tamarix Gallica: it consists of pure mucilaginous sugar.——Astrologers state that the Tamarisk is under the rule of Saturn.

TANSY.—The herb Tansy (Tanacetum) has derived its name from the Greek athanasia, immortality, it being supposed that this herb was referred to in a passage in Lucian’s Dialogues of the Gods, where Jupiter, speaking of Ganymede, says to Mercury, “Take him away, and when he has drunk of immortality [athanasia], bring him back as cup-bearer to us.” In the Catholic Church the herb is dedicated to St. Athanasius, and in Lent cakes are flavoured with it. Gerarde says that the name athanasia was given to the plant because the flowers do not speedily wither: he also tells us that “in the Spring time are made with the leaves hereof newly sprung up, and with egs, cakes or tansies, which be pleasant on taste, and good for the stomacke.”——In some country places, it is customary to eat Tansy pudding at Easter, in allusion to the “bitter herbs” at the Passover. In Sussex, a charm against ague is to wear Tansy leaves in the shoe.——In some parts of Italy, people present stalks of the Wild Tansy to those whom they mean to insult.——The Tansy is held to be a herb of Venus.

TEA.—A Japanese Buddhist legend attributes the origin of the Tea-plant (Thea Sinensis) to the eyelids of a devotee, which fell to the ground and took root. The legend relates that about A.D. 519 a Buddhist priest went to China; and, in order to dedicate his soul entirely to God, he made a vow to pass the day and night in an uninterrupted and unbroken meditation. After many years of such continual watching, he was at length so tired, that he fell asleep. On awaking the following morning, he was so grieved that he had broken his vow, that he cut off both his eyelids and threw them on the ground. Returning to the same spot on the following day, he was astonished to find that each eyelid had become a shrub. This was the Tea-shrub (until then unknown in China)—the leaves of which exhibit the form of an eyelid bordered with lashes, and possess the gift of hindering sleep.—One Ibn Wahab, who travelled in China some time in the ninth century, makes the first authentic mention of Tea as a favourite beverage of the Chinese. He describes it as the leaf of a shrub more bushy than the Pomegranate; and says that an infusion is made by pouring boiling water upon it.

TEREBINTH.—The Terebinth (Pistacia Terebinthus) is a tree much venerated by the Jews. Abraham pitched his tent beneath the shade of a Terebinth at Mamre, in the valley of Hebron, and an altar was afterwards erected close by. The spot whereon the tree of Abraham had flourished was in the time of Eusebius still held in great reverence and sanctity, and a Christian church was erected there. Josephus, in his ‘History of the Jews,’ recounts that the Terebinth of Abraham had flourished ever since the creation of the world; but a second legend states that it sprang from the staff of one the angels who visited Abraham. At Sichem is shown the Terebinth of Jacob, near which Joshua raised an altar. The angel appeared to Gideon to encourage him to engage in battle near a Terebinth-tree at Ophra, and on this spot, after the victory, Gideon raised an altar. The Jews, by preference, bury their dead beneath the shadow of a Terebinth.

THISTLE.—The Thistle (Carduus), in the first days of man, was sent by the Almighty as a portion of the curse passed upon him when he was made a tiller of the soil. God said, “Thorns and Thistles shall it bring forth to thee (Gen. iv.). One species, the Milk Thistle (Carduus Marianus), is distinguishable by the milky veins of its leaves, which were supposed to have derived their peculiar colour from the milk of the Virgin Mary having fallen upon them. This is sometimes called the Scotch Thistle, but it is not so: it grows on the rocky cliffs near Dumbarton Castle, where, if tradition be true, it was originally planted by the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots. The Thistle of Scotland is believed to be the Onopordum Acanthium, the Cotton Thistle, which grows by the highways: this is the national insignia, and its flower-cup and bristling leaves accord well with the motto, “Nemo me impune lacessit.” Tradition says that the Thistle, with the motto rendered in homely Scotch, “Wha daur meddle wi’ me?” was adopted as the symbol of Scotland from the following circumstance:—A party of invading Danes attempted to surprise the Scotch army by night. Under cover of darkness, they approached the slumbering camp, but one of them trod upon a prickly Thistle, and his involuntary cry of pain roused some of the Scots, who flew to arms, and chased the foe from the field. The Onicus acaulis, or stemless Thistle, is by some considered to be the true Scotch Thistle, as it accords best with the legend of the defeated Norsemen, and is, besides, the Thistle seen in the gold bonnet-piece of James V. Carduus acanthoides and C. nutans are by others supposed to be the

“Proud Thistle, emblem dear to Scotland’s sons,
Begirt with threatening points, strong in defence,
Unwilling to assault.”

The Thistle has given its title to a Scotch order of knighthood, which is said to have been instituted by Achaius, king of the Scots, when he obtained a victory over Athelstan. The insignia borne by the knights of the Order of the Thistle is a gold collar, with Thistles and a sprig of Rue interlaced. A gold medal is also worn, bearing a figure of St. Andrew.——Mannhardt states that in Mecklenburg there is a legend current which relates that in a certain wild and barren spot, where once a murder had been committed, there grows every day at noon a strangely-formed Thistle: on the weird plant are to be seen human arms, hands, and heads, and when twelve heads have appeared, the ghastly plant mysteriously vanishes. A shepherd, one day, passed the spot where the mystic Thistle was growing. His staff became tinder, and his arms were struck with paralysis.——According to Apuleius, the wild Thistle, carried about the person, possessed the magical property of averting all ills from the bearer.——In Esthonia, they place Thistles on the Corn that has first ripened, to drive away any evil spirit that may come to it.——In divining, by an old English rite, a girl, to find out which of three or four persons loves her best, takes three or four heads of Thistles, cuts off their points, gives each Thistle the name of one of these persons, and lays them under her pillow. That Thistle which bears the name of the person loving her most will put forth a fresh sprout.——To dream of being surrounded by Thistles is a lucky omen, portending that the dreamer will be rejoiced by some pleasing intelligence in a short time.——Astrologers state that Thistles are under the rule of Mars.

THORN.—According to a German tradition, the Black Thorn springs from the blood of the corpse of a heathen slain in battle. In Germany, the Easter fire was anciently called Buckthorn because it was always kindled with that wood, as it is to this day at Dassel, in Westphalia. Kuhn thinks the tree itself (Bocksdorn) was so called from the sacrificial buck-goat which was burned upon its wood in heathen times.——The Celts have always reverenced the Thorn-bush, and its wood was used by the Greeks for the drilling-stick of their pyreia, an instrument employed for kindling the sacred fire. The Thorn was also held by the Greeks to be a preservative against witchcraft and sorcery. Nevertheless, in some parts of England, witches were formerly reputed to be fond of a Thorn-bush, and both in Brittany and in some parts of Ireland it is considered unsafe to gather even a leaf from certain old and solitary Thorns, which grow in sheltered hollows of the moorland, and are the fairies’ trysting places. To this day, it is thought in many rural districts to be a death-token, and therefore to take a branch or blossom into a house is deemed to be unlucky.——Josephus tells us that the “bush” out of which the Lord appeared to Moses in a flame of fire was a Thorn. He writes: “A wonderful prodigy happened to Moses: for a fire fed upon a Thorn-bush; yet did the green leaves and the flowers continue untouched, and the fire did not at all consume the fruit branches.”——According to Aryan tradition, the Hawthorn sprang from the lightning, and as with other trees of like mythical descent, it was considered a protective against fire, thunderbolts, and lightning. Sir John Maundevile bears witness to this old belief, when, speaking of the Albespyne, or Whitethorn, he says:—“For he that beareth a braunche on hym thereof, no thondre, ne no maner of tempest may dere [harm] hym; ne in the hows that yt is ynne may non evil ghost entre.”——The Whitethorn or Hawthorn has long had the reputation of being a sacred tree, and the plant which had the mournful distinction of supplying the crown of Thorns worn by our Saviour at His crucifixion. Many other plants, however, have been credited with this distinction, including the Buckthorns (Rhamnus Paliurus and Rhamnus Spina Christi), and the Paliurus aculeatus, or Christ Thorn.——In the thirteenth century, there existed among Christians a strong passion for relics, and when the Emperor Baldwin II. came to beg aid from Louis IX. (St. Louis of France), he secured his goodwill at once by offering him the holy Crown of Thorns, which for several centuries had been preserved at Constantinople, and had been pledged to the Venetians for a large sum of money. Louis redeemed this precious and venerable relic, aided Baldwin with men and money, and then triumphantly brought the crown of Thorns to Paris, carrying it himself from Sens, barefoot and bareheaded. Having also been so fortunate as to obtain a small piece of the true Cross, he built in honour of these treasures the exquisite chapel since called La Sainte Chapelle. In pictures of St. Louis, he is usually depicted with his special attribute, the Crown of Thorns, which he reverently holds in one hand.——In Brittany, there is a superstition current which will explain the cause why the robin has always been a favourite and protégé of man. It is said that while our Saviour was bearing His Cross, one of these little birds took from His Crown one of the Thorns steeped in His blood, which dyed the robin’s breast; and ever since the redbreasts have been the friends of man.——St. Catherine of Siena is frequently represented with the Crown of Thorns, in reference to the legend that, having been persecuted and vilified by certain nuns, she laid her wrongs, weeping, at the feet of Christ. He appeared to her, bearing in one hand a crown of gold and jewels, in the other His Crown of Thorns, and bade her choose between them. She took from His hand the Crown of Thorns, and pressed it hastily on her own head, but with such force that the Thorns penetrated to her brain, and she cried out with the agony.——In a painting of Murillo, Santa Rosa de Lima is depicted crowned with Thorns, in allusion to the legend that when compelled by her mother to wear a crown of Roses, she so adjusted it on her brow that it became a veritable crown of Thorns.——In representations of St. Francis of Assisi, the Crown of Thorns is sometimes introduced, the saint having been considered by his followers as a type of the Redeemer.——In many parts of England charms or incantations are employed to prevent a Thorn from festering in the flesh. The following are some of the magic verses recited:—

“Happy man that Christ was born,
He was crowned with a Thorn.
He was pierced through the skin,
For to let the poison in.
But his five wounds, so they say,
Closed before He passed away.
In with healing, out with Thorn,
Happy man that Christ was born.”
“Unto the Virgin Mary our Saviour was born,
And on His head He wore a crown of Thorn:
If you believe this true and mind it well,
This hurt will never fester nor swell.”
“Our Saviour was of a virgin born,
His head was crowned with a crown of Thorn;
It never canker’d nor fester’d at all,
And I hope in Christ Jesus this never shall.”
“Christ was of a virgin born,
And He was pricked by a Thorn,
And it did never bell [throb] nor swell,
As I trust in Jesus this never will.”
“Christ was crown’d with Thorns,
The Thorns did bleed, but did not rot,
No more shall thy finger.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”

In Herefordshire, the burning of a Thorn-bush is supposed to act as a charm against smut or mildew in Wheat. When the crop is just springing out of the ground, the farmer’s servants rise before daybreak, and cut a branch of some particular Thorn; they then make a large fire in the field, in which they burn a portion of it, and hang up the remaining portion in the homestead.——Tradition affirms that, at Hemer, in Westphalia, a man was engaged in fencing his field on Good Friday, and had just poised a bunch of Thorns on his fork, when he was at once transported to the Moon. Some of the Hemer peasants declare that the Moon is not only inhabited by this man with his Thorn-bush, but also by a woman who was churning her butter one Sabbath during Divine Service. Another legend relates how the Man in the Moon is none other than Cain with a bundle of Briars.——To dream you are surrounded by Thorns, signifies that you will be rejoiced by some pleasing intelligence in a very short time.

THORN APPLE.—Gerarde, in his ‘Herbal,’ calls the Datura Stramonium Thorny Apple of Peru: he speaks of it as a plant of a drowsy and numbing quality, resembling in its effects the Mandrake, and he tells us that it is thought to be the Hippomanes, which Theocritus mentions as causing horses to go mad. The words of the poet are thus translated by the old herbalist:—

“Hippomanes ’mongst th’ Arcadian springs, by which ev’n all
The colts and agile mares in mountains mad do fall.”

The juice of Thorn-Apples Gerarde guarantees, when boiled with hog’s grease and made into a salve, will cure inflammations, burnings and scaldings, “as well of fire, water, boiling lead, gunpowder, as that which comes by lightning.” In India, the Datura is sometimes employed by robbers as a magical means of depriving their victims of all power of resistance: their mode of operation being to induce them to chew and swallow a portion of the plant, because those who eat it lose their proper senses, become silly and given to inordinate laughter, feel a strong desire to be generous and open-handed, and finally will allow anyone to pillage them. The Indians apply to the Datura the epithets of the Drunkard, the Madman, the Deceiver, and the Fool-maker. It is also called the tuft of Siva (god of destruction). The Rajpoot mothers are said to besmear their breasts with the juice of the leaves, in order to destroy their new-born infant children. Acosta states that the Indian dancing girls drug wine with the seeds of the Datura Stramonium. He adds that whoever is so unfortunate as to partake of it is for some time perfectly unconscious. He often, however, speaks with others, and gives answers as if he were in full possession of his senses, although he has no control over his actions, is perfectly ignorant of whom he is with, and loses all remembrance of what has taken places when he awakes.——The Stramonium, or Thorn-Apple, is one of the plants commonly connected with witchcraft, death, and horror. Harte, describing the plants growing about the Palace of Death, says:—

“Nor were the Nightshades wanting, nor the power
Of thorn’d Stramonium, nor the sickly flower
Of cloying Mandrakes, the deceitful root
Of the monk’s fraudful cowl, and Plinian fruit” [Amomum Plinii].

THYME.—Among the Greeks, Thyme denoted the graceful elegance of the Attic style, because it covered Mount Hymettus, and gave to the honey made there the aromatic flavour of which the ancients were so fond. “To smell of Thyme” was, therefore, a commendation bestowed on those writers who had mastered the Attic style.——With the Greeks, also, Thyme was an emblem of activity; and as this virtue is eminently associated with true courage, the ladies of chivalrous times embroidered on the scarfs which they presented to their knights, the figure of a bee hovering about a spray of Thyme, in order to inculcate the union of the amiable with the active.——In olden times, it was believed that Thyme renewed the spirits of both man and beast; and the old herbalists recommended it is a powerful aid in melancholic and splenetic diseases.——Fairies and elves were reputed to be specially fond of Wild Thyme. Oberon exclaims with delight:—

“I know a bank whereon the Wild Thyme blows,
Where Oxlips and the woody Violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with lush Woodbine.
With sweet Musk-Roses, and with Eglantine.”

The fairy king’s musical hounds would willingly forsake the richest blossoms of the garden in order to hunt for the golden dew in the flowery tufts of Thyme. Of witches it is said, that when they

“Won’t do penance for their crime,
They bathed themselves in Oregane and Thyme.”

In the South of France, when a summons to attend a meeting of the votaries of Marianne is sent, it is accompanied by tufts of Wild Thyme, or Ferigoule, that being the symbol of advanced Republicanism.

TOADSTOOL.—The name of Toadstool was originally applied to all descriptions of unwholesome Fungi, from the popular belief that toads sit on them. Thus Spenser, in his ‘Shepherd’s Calendar,’ says:—

“The griesly Todestool grown there mought I see,
And loathed paddocks lording on the same.”

Fungi are in some parts of the country called Paddock-stools from the same notion that toads are fond of sitting on them; and in the Western counties they bear the name of Pixie-stools. In Sussex, the Puff-ball (Lycoperdon) is called Puck’s-stool; and in other places these fungi are known among country folks as Puckfists. These names tend to identify Puck, the mischievous king of the fairies, with the toad (pogge), which is popularly believed to be the impersonation of the Devil himself: hence Toad-stools, Paddock-stools, Puck’s-stools, Puckfists, and Pixie-stools have been superstitiously thought to be the droppings of elves or of Satan, and in some districts are known as Devil’s droppings.

TOBACCO.—With the Aborigines of Southern America, the Tobacco (Nicotiana) was regarded as a sacred plant, and Darwin has described how, in the pampas of Patagonia, he saw the sacred tree of Wallitchon. This tree grew on a hill in the midst of a vast plain, and when the Indians perceived it afar off, they saluted it with loud cries. The branches were covered with cords, from which were suspended votive offerings, consisting of cigars, bread, meat, pieces of cloth, &c. In a fissure of the tree they found spirits and vegetable extracts. When smoking, they blew the Tobacco smoke towards the branches. All around lay the bleached bones of horses that they had sacrificed to the sacred tree.——The Indians believe that this worship ensures good luck to themselves and their horses. In other parts of America, the Indians throw Tobacco as an offering to the spirit supposed to inhabit the waterfalls and whirlpools.——M. Cochet, a French traveller, recounts that the Indians of Upper Peru, entertain a religious reverence for Tobacco. They consider it an infallible remedy for the sting of serpents, and each year a festival-day is consecrated to the plant. On that day they construct, in the most secluded portion of the forest, a round hut, adorned with flowers and feathers. At the foot of the central pillar which supports the hut is placed a basket richly decorated, containing a roll of Tobacco. Into this hut troop in one by one the Indians of the district, and before the shrine of the sacred Tobacco perform their customary acts of worship.——In reference to the use of Tobacco by pagan priests in the delivery of their oracles, Gerarde tells us that the “priests and enchanters of hot countries do take the fume thereof until they be drunke, that after they have lien for dead three or foure houres, they may tell the people what wonders, visions, or illusions they have seen, and so give them a prophetical direction or foretelling (if we may trust to the Divell) of the successe of their businesse.”——In the Ukraine, Tobacco is looked upon as an ill-omened plant, and the Raskolniks call it the Herb of the Devil, and make offerings of it to appease “genis, spirits, and demons of the forest.”——Until the time of Peter the Great, the use of Tobacco was forbidden in Russia, and those who transgressed the law had their noses split.

TREACLE-MUSTARD.—The names of French Mustard, Treacle-Mustard, and Treacle Worm-seed were given to the Erysimum cheiranthoides, the two last because, in mediæval times, the seed of this plant formed one of the seventy-three ingredients of the far-famed “Venice treacle,” a noted antidote to all poisons, believed to cure “all those that were bitten or stung of venomous beastes, or had drunk poisons, or were infected with the pestilence.” The origin of this counter-poison was the famous Mithridaticum, a preparation invented by Mithridates, king of Pontus. Andromachus added to this comparatively simple compound other ingredients, and especially vipers; changing, on that account, the name to Theriaca (from the Greek therion, a small animal). Dr. Prior tells us that this remedy, which was known in England originally as Triacle, was the source of many popular tales of sorcerers eating poison, and was retained in the London Pharmacopœia till about a century ago.

TREFOIL.—Among the Romans, the Grass crown made of Trefoil-leaves was esteemed a mark of very high honour. (See Clover and Shamrock).

TROLL-FLOWER.—The Globe-flower (Trollius Europæus) acquired the sobriquet of Troll-flower in allusion to the Trolls, who were malignant elves, and because of the plant’s acrid poisonous qualities. (See Globe Flower).

True-Love.—See Herb Paris.

TUBEROSE.—The name Tuberose is simply a corruption of the plant’s botanical title Polianthes tuberosa. The Malayans call this sweet-scented flower “The Mistress of Night:” when worn in the hair by a Malayan lady, the blossom is an indication to her lover that his suit is pleasing to her. The Tuberose is a native of India, whence it was first brought to Europe towards the close of the sixteenth century. Its blossoms were at first single, but La Cour, a Dutch florist, obtained the double-flowering variety from seed. So tenacious was he of the roots, that even after he had propagated them so freely as to have more than he could plant, he caused them to be cut to pieces in order that he might have the pleasure of boasting that he was the only person in Europe who possessed this flower.

TULASI.—The Indian name of the Holy Basil (Ocimum sanctum) is Tulasi, under which appellation this sacred plant is worshipped as a goddess. (See Basil).

TULIP.—The origin of the brilliant and dazzling Tulip has been given us by the poet Rapin, who relates that the flower was a modest Dalmatian nymph, metamorphosed into a Tulip to save her from the importunities of Vertumnus. The story is thus told by the Jesuit poet:—

“Dalmatia claims the nymph, whom heretofore
A bright Timavian dame to Proteus bore;
To her the changing sire his gift conveys,
In every dress and every form to please:
Disguised Vertumnus, wandering round the world,
On the Dalmatian coast by Fate was hurled,
Where by her mother’s stream the virgin played;
The courting god with all his arts assayed
(But unsuccessful still) the haughty maid.
Yet, as the changing colours pleased her eyes,
He put on every form that might surprise,
Dres’t in all Nature’s sweet varieties:
To suit his mind to her wild humour strove,
No complaisance forgot, no policy of love;
But when he saw his prayers and arts had failed,
Bold with desire his passion he revealed,
Confessed the secret god, and force applied.
To heaven for aid the modest virgin cried:
‘Ye rural powers, preserve a nymph from shame!’
And, worthy of her wish, a flower became.
Her golden caul that shone with sparkling hair,
The lace and ribbons which adorned the fair,
To leaves are changed; her breast a stem is made,
Slender and long, with fragrant greens arrayed;
Six gaudy leaves a painted cup compose,
On which kind nature every dye bestows;
For though the nymph transformed, the love she bore
To colours still delights her as before.”

The Tulip is a favourite flower of the East, and is believed originally to have come from Persia. The French formerly called the flower Tulipan, which, as well as the English name, is derived from Thoulyban, the word used in Persia for turban.——The Tulip is considered to be one of the flowers loved by fairies and elves, who protect those that cultivate them.——In Turkey, the flower is held in the highest estimation, and a Feast of Tulips used to be celebrated annually in the Sultan’s seraglio, when the gardens were brilliantly illuminated and decorated with Oriental magnificence, and the fête was attended by the Sultan and his harem.——The garden Tulip is a native of the Levant: Linnæus says of Cappadocia. It is very common in Syria, and is supposed by some persons to be the “Lily of the field” alluded to by Jesus Christ.——In Persia, the Tulip is considered as the emblem of consuming love. When a young man presents one to his mistress, he gives her to understand, by the general colour of the flower, that he is impressed with her beauty, and by the black base of it that his heart is burnt to a coal.——In India, the Tulip seems to typify unhappy love. In the ‘Rose of Bakawali,’ a Hindustani story, the author, while describing the beautiful fairy of the heaven, Bakawali, says “the Tulip immersed itself in blood because of the jealousy it entertained of her charming lips!” When bidding adieu to the fairy, Taj-ul-muluk says: ‘I quit this garden carrying in my heart, like the Tulip, the wound of unhappy love—I go, my head covered with dust, my heart bleeding, my breast fevered.’——The Tulip is supposed to have been brought from Persia to the Levant, and it was introduced into Western Europe about the middle of the sixteenth century by Busbeck, ambassador from the Emperor of Germany to the Sublime Porte, who to his astonishment found Tulips on the road between Adrianople and Constantinople blooming in the middle of winter. In Europe, they soon became universal favourites, and were imported into England in 1577.——In Holland, about the middle of the seventeenth century, a perfect mania for possessing rare sorts seized all classes of persons. From 1634 to 1637 inclusive all classes in all the great cities of Holland became infected with the Tulipomania. A single root of a particular species, called the Viceroy, was exchanged, in the true Dutch taste, for the following articles:—2 lasts of Wheat, 4 of Rye, 4 fat oxen, 3 fat swine, 12 fat sheep, 2 hogsheads of wine, 4 tuns of beer, 2 tons of butter, 1000 pounds of cheese, a complete bed, a suit of clothes, and a silver beaker—value of the whole, 2500 florins. These Tulips afterwards were sold according to the weight of the roots. Four hundred perits (something less than a grain) of Admiral Liefken, cost 4400 florins; 446 ditto of Admiral Van der Eyk, 1620 florins; 106 perits Schilder cost 1615 florins; 200 ditto Semper Augustus, 5500 florins; 410 ditto Viceroy, 3000 florins, &c. The species Semper Augustus has been often sold for 2000 florins; and it once happened that there were only two roots of it to be had, the one at Amsterdam, and the other at Haarlem. For a root of this species one agreed to give 4600 florins, together with a new carriage, two grey horses, and a complete harness. Another agreed to give for a root twelve acres of land; for those who had not ready money promised their moveable and immoveable goods, houses and lands, cattle and clothes. The trade was followed not only by mercantile people, but also by all classes of society. At first, everyone won and no one lost. Some of the poorest people gained, in a few months, houses, coaches and horses, and figured away like the first characters in the land. In every town some tavern was selected which served as an exchange, where high and low traded in flowers, and confirmed their bargains with the most sumptuous entertainments. They formed laws for themselves, and had their notaries and clerks. During the time of the Tulipomania, a speculator often offered and paid large sums for a root which he never received, nor ever wished to receive. Another sold roots which he never possessed or delivered. Often did a nobleman purchase of a chimney-sweep Tulips to the amount of 2000 florins, and sell them at the same time to a farmer, and neither the nobleman, chimney-sweep, nor farmer had roots in their possession, or wished to possess them. Before the Tulip season was over, more roots were sold and purchased, bespoke, and promised to be delivered, than in all probability were to be found in the gardens of Holland; and when Semper Augustus was not to be had, which happened twice, no species perhaps was oftener purchased and sold. In the space of three years, as Munting tells us, more than ten millions were expended in this trade, in only one town of Holland. The evil rose to such a pitch, that the States of Holland were under the necessity of interfering; the buyers took the alarm; the bubble, like the South Sea scheme, suddenly burst; and as, in the outset, all were winners, in the winding up, very few escaped without loss.

TUTSAN.—The Hypericum Androsæmum was in former days called Tutsan, or Tutsayne, a word derived from the French name, Toute-saine, which was applied to the plant, according to Lobel, “because, like the Panacea, it cures all sickness and diseases.” The St. John’s Wort (H. perforatum) was also called Tutsan.

TURNIP.—The Turnip (Brassica Rapa) was considered by Columella and Pliny as next to corn in value and utility. Pliny mentions some of the Turnips of his times as weighing forty pounds each.——In Westphalia, when a young peasant goes wooing, if Turnips be set before him, they signify that he is totally unacceptable to the girl he would court.——To dream of Turnips denotes fruitless toil.

UNSHOE-THE-HORSE.—The Hippocrepis comosa, from its horseshoe-shaped legumes, is supposed, upon the doctrine of signatures, to have the magical power of causing horses to cast their shoes. This Vetch is the Sferracavallo of the Italians, who ascribe to it the same magical property. Grimm, however, considers that the Springwort (Euphorbia Lathyris) is, from its powerful action on metals, the Italian Sferracavallo. The French give a similar extraordinary property to the Rest-Harrow (Ononis arvensis); and it is also allotted to the Moonwort (Botrychium Lunaria):—

“Whose virtue’s such,
It in the pasture, only with a touch,
Unshoes the new-shod steed.”—Withers.

UPAS.—The deadly Upas of Java has the terrible reputation of being a tree which poisons by means of its noxious exhalations. Two totally distinct trees have been called the Upas,—one, the Antjar (Autiaris toxicaria), is a tree attaining a height of one hundred feet; the other, the Chetik, is a large creeping shrub peculiar to Java. Neither of them, however, answers to the description of the poisonous Upas, which rises in the “Valley of Death,” and which was seen and reported on by Foersch, a Dutch physician, who travelled in Java at the end of the last century. Foersch wrote that this deadly Upas grew in the midst of a frightful desert. No bird could rest in its branches, no plant could subsist, no animal live in its neighbourhood: it blighted everything near with its malaria, and caused the birds of the air that flew over it to drop lifelessly down. Leagues away, its noxious emanations, borne by the winds, proved fatal. When a Javanese was condemned to death, as a last chance, his pardon was offered to him if he would consent to go into the Valley of Death, and gather, by means of a long Bamboo-rod, some drops of the poison of the Upas. Hundreds of unhappy creatures are said to have submitted to this trial, and to have miserably perished.

VALERIAN.—The ancient name of this plant, according to Dioscorides, was Phu, and in botanical phraseology Garden Valerian is still Valeriana Phu. The Latins called the plant Valeriana, some say from its medicinal value, others from one Valerius, who is reputed first to have used the herb in medicine; but the derivation is really uncertain. The old English name of the plant was Setewale, Setwal, or Set-wall. Chaucer writes:—

“Ther springen herbes grete and smale,
The Licoris and the Setewale.”

And, speaking of the Clerk of Oxenforde, he says:—

“And he himself was swete as is the rote
Of Licoris, or any Setewale.”

Gerarde tells us that the plant was known in his day by the name of Valerian, Capon’s Tail, and Setwall, but that the last name really belonged to the Zedoaria, which is not Valerian. The old herbalist also records that the medicinal virtues of Valerian were, among the poorer classes in the North, held in such veneration, “that no broths, pottage, or physical meats are worth anything if Setwall were not at an end: whereupon some woman poet or other hath made these verses:—

‘They that will have their heale
Must put Setwall in their keale.’”

Cats are so fond of the perfume of Valerian, that they are said to dig up the roots, rolling on them with ecstatic delight, and gnawing them to pieces. The action of the Valerian-root (which the herbalists found out was very like a cat’s eye) on the nervous system of some cats undoubtedly produces in time a kind of pleasant intoxication. Rats are also attracted by the odour of this plant.——Astrologers say that Valerian is under the rule of Mercury.

Venus’ Plants.—See Lady’s Plants.

Veronica.—See Speedwell.

VERVAIN.—The Vervain, or Verbena, has from time immemorial been the symbol of enchantment, and the most ancient nations employed this plant in their divinations, sacrificial and other rites, and in incantations. It bore the names of the Tears of Isis, Tears of Juno, Mercury’s Blood, Persephonion, Demetria, and Cerealis. The Magi of the ancient Elamites or Persians made great use of the Vervain in the worship of the Sun, always carrying branches of it in their hands when they approached the altar. The magicians also employed the mystic herb in their pretended divinations, and affirmed that, by smearing the body over with the juice of this plant, the person would obtain whatever he set his heart upon, and be able to reconcile the most inveterate enemies, make friends with whom he pleased, and gain the affections, and cure the disease of whom he listed. When they cut Vervain, it was always at a time when both sun and moon were invisible, and they poured honey and honeycomb on the earth, as an atonement for robbing it of so precious a herb.——The Greeks called it the Sacred Herb, and it was with this plant only that they cleansed the festival-table of Jupiter before any great solemnity took place; and hence, according to Pliny, the name of Verbena is derived. It was, also, one of the plants which was dedicated to Venus. Venus Victrix wore a crown of Myrtle interwoven with Vervain.——With the Romans, the Vervain was a plant of good omen, and considered strictly sacred:—

“Bring your garlands, and with reverence place
The Vervain on the altar.”

They employed it in their religious rites, swept their temples and cleansed their altars with it, and sprinkled holy water with its branches. They also purified their houses with it, to keep off evil spirits; and in order to make themselves invulnerable, they carried about their persons a blade of Grass and some Vervain. Their ambassadors, or heralds-at-arms, wore crowns of Vervain when they went to offer terms of reconciliation, or to give defiance to their enemies, a custom thus noticed by Drayton:—

“A wreath of Vervain heralds wear,
Amongst our garlands named;
Being sent that dreadful news to bear,
Offensive war proclaimed.”

Virgil mentions Vervain as one of the charms used by an enchantress:—

“Bring running water, bind those altars round
With fillets, and with Vervain strew the ground.”

The Druids, both in Gaul and in Britain, regarded the Vervain with the same veneration as the Hindus do the Kusa or Tulasi, and, like the Magi of the East, they offered sacrifices to the earth before they cut this plant. This ceremony took place in Spring, at about the rising of the Great Dog Star, but so that neither sun nor moon would be at that time above the earth to see the sacred herb cut. It was to be dug up with an iron instrument, and to be waved aloft in the air, the left hand only being used. It was also ordained by the Druidical priests, for those who collected it, “that before they take up the herb, they bestow upon the ground where it groweth honey with the combs, in token of satisfaction and amends for the wrong and violence done in depriving her of so holy a herb. The leaves, stalks, and flowers were dried separately in the shade, and were used for the bites of serpents infused in wine.” Another account states that the Druidesses held Vervain in as great veneration as the Druids did the Mistletoe. They were never permitted to touch it. It was to be gathered at midnight, at the full of the moon, in this manner:—A long string with a loop in it was thrown over the Vervain-plant, and the other end fastened to the left great toe of a young virgin, who was then to drag at it till she had uprooted it. The eldest Druidess then received it in a cloth, and carried it home, to use it for medicinal purposes and offerings to their gods. In the Druidic procession, to the gathering of the Mistletoe, the white-clad herald carried a branch of Vervain in his hand, encircled by two serpents. The priests, when performing their daily functions of feeding the never-dying fires in the Druidic temples, prayed for the space of an hour, holding branches of Vervain in their hands. Pliny tells us that the Druids made use of it in casting lots, as well as in drawing omens and in other pretended magical arts; he also says that if the hall or dining chamber be sprinkled with the water wherein Vervain lay steeped, all that sat at the table should be “very pleasant and make merry more jocundly.”

“Lift up your boughs of Vervain blue,
Dipt in cold September dew;
And dash the moisture, chaste and clear,
O’er the ground and through the air.”—Mason.

In mediæval days, the sacred character of Vervain was still maintained, and the plant was greatly prized, and used in compounding charms and love-philtres. Known in our country as Holy Herb and Simpler’s Joy, it was credited with great medicinal virtues.

“Black melancholy rusts, that fed despair
Through wounds’ long rage, with sprinkled Vervain cleared.”—Davenant.

Its juice was given as a cure for the plague, and the plant was prescribed as a remedy in some thirty different maladies, and was suspended round the neck as an amulet. Gerarde, however, tells us that “the devil did reveal it as a secret and divine medicine;” and R. Turner writes (1687):—“It is said to be used by witches to do mischief, and so may all other herbs if by wicked astrologers used to accomplish their wretched ends.” But notwithstanding that it was used by witches and wizards in their incantations and spells, and was in fact called the Enchanter’s Plant, Vervain was considered to possess the power of combating witches: thus Aubrey says:—

“Vervain and Dill
Hinder witches from their will.”

and Michael Drayton writes:—

“Here holy Vervayne, and here Dill,
’Gainst witchcraft much avayling.”

and again—

“The Nightshade strews to work him ill,
Therewith the Vervain and the Dill
That hindreth witches of their will.”

On the Eve of St. John (June 23rd), Vervain was for a long time associated with the observances of Midsummer Eve. Thus we read in ‘Ye Popish Kingdome:’—

“Then doth ye joyfull feast of John ye Baptist take his turne
When bonfires great with loftie flame in every towne doe burne,
And young men round about with maides doe dance in every streete,
With garlands wrought of Mother-wort, or else with Vervain sweete.”

J. White, Minister of God’s Word, writes in 1624:—“Many also use to weare Vervein against blasts; and when they gather it for this purpose firste they crosse the herb with their hand, and then they blesse it thus:—

‘Hallowed be thou, Vervein,
As thou growest on the ground,
For on the Mount of Calvary
There thou wast first found
Thou healedst our Saviour Jesus Christ,
And staunchedst his bleeding wound,
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,
I take thee from the ground.’”

In many rural districts, Vervain is still regarded as a plant possessing magical virtues as a love philtre. It has the reputation of securing affection from those who take it to those who administer it. The gun-flint boiled in Vervain and Rue ensures the shot taking effect. The root of Vervain tied with a white satin ribbon round the neck acts as a charm against ague. Vervain and baked toads, worn in silken bags around the neck, are a cure for the evil.——In the northern provinces of France, the peasants still continue to gather Vervain under the different phases of the moon, using certain mysterious ejaculations known only to themselves whilst in the act of collecting the mystic herb, by whose assistance they hope to effect cures, and charm both the flocks and the rustic beauties of the village.——The Germans present a hat of Vervain to the newly-married bride, as though placing her under the protection of Venus Victrix, the patroness of the plant.——Gerarde tells us that in his time it was called “Holie Herbe, Juno’s Teares, Mercurie’s Moist Bloude, and Pigeon’s Grasse, or Columbine, because Pigeons are delighted to be amongst it, as also to eate thereof.”——Astrologers place Vervain under the dominion of Venus.

VINE.—The Vine was held by the ancients sacred to Bacchus, and the old historians all connect the jovial god with the “life-giving tree”: he is crowned with Vine-leaves, and he holds in his hand a bunch of Grapes, whilst his merry followers are decked with garlands of the trailing Vine, and love to quaff with their master the divine juice of its luscious violet and golden fruit, styled by Anacreon “the liquor of Bacchus.” The old heathen writers all paid honour to the Vine, and attributed to the earliest deified sovereigns of each country the gift of this ambrosial tree. Thus Saturn is said to have bestowed it upon Crete; Janus bore it with him to Latium; Osiris similarly benefitted Egypt; and Spain obtained it through Geryon, her most ancient monarch. Old traditions all point to Greece as the native place of the Vine, and there it is still to be found growing wild.——There are many allusions to the Vine in the Scriptures. Noah, we find, planted a Vineyard (Gen. ix., 20); enormous bunches of Grapes were brought by the Israelitish spies out of Palestine; Solomon had a Vineyard at Baalhamon. “He let out the Vineyard unto keepers; every one for the fruit thereof was to bring one thousand pieces of silver” (Cant, viii., 11). The Bible contains many illustrations borrowed from the husbandry of the Vineyard, showing that Vine culture was sedulously pursued, and formed a fruitful source of wealth. In Leviticus xxv., 4, 5, we find a command that every seventh year the Vines were to be left untouched by the pruning knife, and the Grapes were not to be gathered.——Of the ancient pagan writers who have alluded to the Vine in their works, Cato has left abundant information as to the Roman Vine-craft, and Columella, Varro, Palladius, Pliny, and Tacitus have all given details of the Vine culture of the ancients. More than sixty varieties of the Vine appear to have been known to the Greeks and Romans, one of which, called by Columella and Pliny the Amethystine, has certainly been lost, for they record that the wine from its Grapes never occasioned drunkenness.——The Elm was preferred to any other tree by the ancients as a prop for Vines, and this connexion has led to numerous fanciful notices by the poets of all ages. Statius calls it the “Nuptial Elm;” Ovid speaks of “the lofty Elm, with creeping Vines o’erspread;” Tasso says:—

“As the high Elm, whom his dear Vine hath twined
Fast in her hundred arms, and holds embraced,
Bears down to earth his spouse and darling kind,
If storm or cruel steel the tree down cast,
And her full grapes to nought doth bruise and grind,
Spoils his own leaves, faints, withers, dies at last,
And seems to mourn and die, not for his own
But for her loss, with him that lies o’erthrown.”—Fairfax.

Beaumont tells us that—

“The amorous Vine,
Did with the fair and straight-limbed Elm entwine.”

Cowley speaks of the “beauteous marriageable Vine,” and Browne writes of “the amorous Vine that in the Elm still weaves.” Horace, however, connects the Vine with the Poplar, instead of the Elm. Milton, describing the pursuits of our first parents in Eden, says:—

“They led the Vine
To wed her Elm; she, spoused about him twines
Her marriageable arms, and with her brings
Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn
His barren leaves.”

In the Mythologie des Plantes, we find it stated that the Persians trace the use of wine in Persia to the reign of the blessed Jemshîd. A woman who wished to poison herself drank some wine, thinking that it was poison; but she only fell into a profound sleep, and thus the Persians learnt in Jemshîd’s reign the use of the juice of the Grape. Olearius, in 1637, heard in Persia the following legend:—To console the poor and unhappy, God sent on earth the angels Aroth and Maroth, with the injunctions not to kill anyone, not to do any injustice, and not to drink any wine. A beautiful woman, who had quarrelled with her husband, appealed for justice to the two angels, and asked them to partake of some wine. The angels not only consented, but, after having indulged rather freely, began to ask other favours of the lovely woman. After a little hesitation, she agreed to comply, provided that the angels should first show her the way to ascend to heaven, and to descend again to the earth. The angels assented; but when the woman, who was as virtuous as she was beautiful, reached heaven, she would not descend again to earth, and there she remains, changed into the most brilliant star in the skies.——With the Mandans, a tribe of American Indians, the Vine is connected with the tradition concerning their origin. They believe that the whole nation resided in one large village, underground, near a subterraneous lake. A Grape Vine extended its roots down to their habitation, and gave them a view of the light. Some of the most adventurous climbed up the Vine, and were delighted with the sight of the earth, which they found covered with buffaloes, and rich with all kinds of fruit. Returning with the Grapes they had gathered, their countrymen were so pleased with the taste of them, that the whole nation resolved to leave their dull residence for the charms of the upper region. Men, women, and children, therefore forthwith proceeded to ascend by means of the Vine, but when about half the nation had reached the surface of the earth, a very stout woman, who was laboriously clambering up the Vine, broke it with her weight, and debarred herself and the rest of the nation from seeing the light of the sun. Those who had reached the earth’s surface made themselves a village, and formed the tribe of the Mandans, who, when they die, expect to return to the original settlement of their forefathers; the good reaching the ancient village by means of the subterranean lake, which the burden of the sins of the wicked will not enable them to cross.——Wild Vines differ in many respects from the cultivated Vine; several distinct species are found in Java, India, and America; one first found on the banks of the Catawba, from which the famous Catawba wine is made, is now extensively cultivated on the Ohio, or La Belle Rivière; its product has been lauded by Longfellow, who sings—

“There grows no Vine
By the haunted Rhine,
By Danube or Guadalquiver,
Nor an island or cape
That bears such a Grape
As grown by the Beautiful River.”

The wood of the Vitis sylvestris was used by the Greeks in the instrument they employed for producing fire. The Aryan method of kindling sacred fire by wood friction was practised both by Greeks and Romans down to a late period. The Greeks called their kindling instrument pyreia, and the drilling stick which worked in it trupanon; and according to Theophrastus and Pliny, the lower part of the pyreia was formed of the wood of the wild Vine, Ivy, or Athragene.——To dream of Vines denotes health, prosperity, abundance, and fertility, “for which,” says a dream oracle, “we have the example of Astyages, King of the Medes, who dreamed that his daughter brought forth a Vine, which was a prognostic of the grandeur, riches, and felicity of the great Cyrus, who was born of her after this dream.”——Culpeper states that the Vine is “a gallant tree of the Sun, very sympathetical with the body of man; and that is the reason spirits of wine is the greatest cordial among all vegetables.”

VIOLET.—According to Rapin, the Violet was once a fair nymph, who was changed by Diana into this flower to avoid the importunities of Apollo. The poet thus describes the metamorphosis:—

“Next from the Vi’let choice perfumes exhale;
She now disguised in a blue dusky veil
Springs through the humble grass an humble flow’r,
Her stature little and her raiment poor.
If truth in ancient poems is convey’d,
This modest flower was once a charming maid,
Her name Ianthis, of Diana’s train,
The brightest nymph that ever graced a plain;
Whom (while Pherean herds the virgin fed)
Apollo saw, and courted to his bed;
But, lov’d in vain, the frighted virgin fled
To woods herself and her complaints she bore
And sought protection from Diana’s pow’r,
Who thus advis’d: ‘From mountains, sister, fly;
Phœbus loves mountains and an open sky.’
To vales and shady springs she bashful ran,
In thickets hid her charms, but all in vain:
For he her virtue and her flight admir’d,
The more she blush’d, the more the god was fired.
And now his love and wit new frauds prepare,
The goddess cried, ‘Since beauty’s such a snare,
Ah, rather perish that destructive grace.’
Then stain’d with dusky blue the virgin’s face:
Discolour’d thus an humbler state she prov’d,
Less fair, but by the goddess more belov’d;
Changed to a Violet with this praise she meets,
Chaste she retires to keep her former sweets.
The lowest places with this flower abound,
The valuable gift of untill’d ground;
Nor yet disgraced, though amongst Briars brought forth,
So rich her odour is, so true her worth.”

Ion, the Greek name for the Violet, is reputed to have been bestowed on it because, when Jupiter had metamorphosed Io into a white heifer, he caused sweet Violets to spring from the earth, in order to present her with herbage worthy of her.

“We are Violets blue,
For our sweetness found,
Careless in the morning shades,
Looking on the ground;
Love’s dropp’d eyelids and a kiss,
Such our breath and blueness is.
Io, the mild shape,
Hidden by Jove’s fears,
Found us first i’ the sward, when she
For hunger stooped in tears;
Wheresoe’er her lips she sets
Said Jove, be breaths called Violets.”

In one of the poems of his ‘Hesperides,’ however, Herrick gives a different version of the origin of Violets. According to the wayward fancy of this old poet, Violets are the descendants of some unfortunate girls, who, having defeated Venus in a dispute she had with Cupid on the delicate point as to whether she or they surpassed in sweetness, were beaten blue by the goddess in her jealous rage.——Some etymologists trace the Greek names Ion to Ia, the daughter of Midas, who was betrothed to Atys, and transformed by Diana into a Violet in order conceal her from Phœbus.——Another derivation of the name is found in the story that some nymphs of Ionia, who lived on the banks of the river Cytherus, first presented these flowers to Ion, who had led an Ionian colony into Attica.——The Greek grammarian Lycophron, who lived in the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus (about 280 years B.C.), was fond of making anagrams, and from the name of the Queen Arsinoe extracted “Violet of Juno.” Shakspeare, calls these favourite flowers

“Violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes,
Or Cytherea’s breath.”—Winter’s Tale.

In all eastern countries, the Violet is a favourite flower, and a sherbet flavoured with its blossoms is a common drink at Persian and Arabian banquets. So delicious is this beverage, that Tavernier specially remembers that it is drunk by the Grand Seignior himself. There is a legend, that Mahomet once remarked: “The excellence of the extract of Violets above all other extracts is as the excellence of me above all the rest of the creation: it is cold in Summer, and it is hot in Winter.” Another Oriental saying is, “The excellence of the Violet is as the excellence of El Islam above all other religions.”—At the floral games, instituted at Toulouse by Clemence Isaure in the early part of the fourteenth century, in the time of the Troubadours, the prize awarded to the author of the best poetical composition consisted of a golden Violet. The fair founder of these games is stated, whilst undergoing a weary imprisonment, to have sent her chosen flower, the Violet, to her knight, that he might wear the emblem of her constancy; and the flower thus became, with the Troubadours, a symbol of this virtue. These floral games are still celebrated every year.——Along with other flowers, the Violet was assigned by the ancients to Venus.——It is said that Proserpine was gathering Violets as well as Narcissus when she was seized by Pluto.——The Athenians more especially affected the Violet; everywhere throughout the city of Athens they set up tablets engraven with the name, and preferred for themselves above all other names, that of “Athenian crowned with Violets.” The Romans, also, were extremely partial to the Violet, and cultivated it largely in their gardens. A favourite beverage of theirs was a wine made from the flower.——The Violet was, in olden days, regarded in England as an emblem of constancy, as we find by an old sonnet:—

“Violet is for faithfulnesse,
Which in me shall abide;
Hoping likewise that from your heart
You will not let it slide.”

The Violet is considered to be a funeral flower, and we find that in mediæval times it was among the flowers used in the old ceremony called “Creeping to the Crosse,” when on Good Friday priests clad in crimson, and “singing dolefully,” carried the image of the Cross, accompanied by another image representing a person just dead—

“With tapers all the people come,
And at the barriers stay,
Where down upon their knees they fall,
And night and day they pray;
And Violets and ev’ry kind
Of flowers about the grave
They strawe, and bring in all
The presents that they have.”

It was formerly commonly believed in England that when Violets and Roses flourished in Autumn, there would be some epidemic in the ensuing year. In Worcestershire, the safety of the farmer’s young broods of chickens and ducks is thought to be sadly endangered by anyone taking less than a handful of Violets or Primroses into his house.——Pliny had so high an opinion of the medicinal virtues of the Violet, as to assert that a garland of Violets worn about the head prevented headache or dizziness. In the time of Charles II., a conserve, called Violet-sugar or Violet-plate, was recommended by physicians to consumptive patients.——The Violet has always been in high favour with the French, and is now the recognised badge of the Imperial party. The flower became identified with the Bonapartists during Napoleon the First’s exile at Elba. When about to depart for that island, he comforted his adherents by promising to return with the Violets:—

“Farewell to thee, France! but when liberty rallies
Once more in thy regions, remember me then;
The Violet grows in the depths of thy valleys,
Though withered, thy tears will unfold it again.”—Byron.

His followers, perhaps remembering that “Violet is for faithfulness,” henceforth adopted the flower as their badge, and during his exile were accustomed to toast his health under the name of Caporal Violette, or “the flower that returns with the Spring.” So well understood did the political significance of the flower become, that when Mddle. Mars appeared on the stage wearing Violets on her dress, she was loudly hissed by the body-guard of King Louis. It is said that the Empress Eugénie, when wooed by Napoleon III., signified her willingness to share with him the throne of France by appearing one evening wearing Violets in her dress and hair, and carrying Violets in her hands. Afterwards, when living at Chiselhurst, Violet bouquets were sent in profusion to the Imperial exiles, and, mingled with immortelles, were piled upon the tomb of Napoleon III.——The famous actress, Clairon, was so fond of the Violet, that one of her worshippers took pains to cultivate it for her sake, and for thirty-seven years never failed to send her a bouquet of Violets every morning during their season of bloom; an offering so greatly appreciated by its recipient, that she used to strip off the petals every evening, make an infusion of them, and drink it like tea.——To dream of admiring the Violet in a garden is deemed a prognostic of advancement in life.——By astrologers the Violet is held to be under the dominion of Venus.

VIPER’S BUGLOSS.—The Echium vulgare, or Viper’s Bugloss, is one of the handsomest of English wild flowers. Its seed resembling the head of the viper, it was supposed on the doctrine of signatures to cure the bite of that reptile: whilst its spotted stem indicated to the old herbalists and simplers that the plant was specially created to counteract the poison of speckled vipers and snakes. Dioscorides affirmed that anyone who had taken the herb before being bitten would not be hurt by the poison of any serpent. The French call it la Vipérine, and the Italians Viperina.——In England it is also known as Snake’s Bugloss and Cat’s Tail.——According to astrologers, the Viper’s Bugloss is a herb of the Sun.

VIPER’S GRASS.—Scorzonera edulis has obtained its Latin name from the Italian Scorzone, a venomous serpent whose bite the grass is supposed to heal, and whose form its twisted roots are thought to resemble. According to Monardus, a Spanish physician, quoted by Parkinson, the English name of Viper’s Grass was given to it because “a Moor, a bond-slave, did help those that were bitten of that venomous beast, the viper, which they of Catalonia called Escuerso, with the juice of this herbe, which both took away the poison, and healed the bitten place very quickly, when Treakle and other things would do no good.”

Virgin Mary’s Plants.—See Lady’s Plants.

Virgin’s Bower.—See Clematis.

Wake Robin.—See Arum.

WALLFLOWER.—The Wallflower (Cheiranthus Cheiri) belongs to the family of Stocks, and was, in fact, introduced from Spain under the name of Wall Stock-Gillofer, which afterwards became Wall Gilliflower, and finally Wallflower. In Turner’s ‘Herbal,’ it is called Wall-Gelover and Hartis Ease.——Tradition gives a poetical origin to this flower. It tells that, in bygone days, a castle stood near the river Tweed, in which a fair maiden was kept a prisoner, having plighted her troth and given her heart’s affection to the young heir of a hostile clan; but blood having been shed between the chiefs on either side, the deadly hatred cherished in those lawless days forbade all thoughts of the union. The gallant tried various stratagems to get possession of his betrothed, all of which failed, until at last he gained admission to the castle disguised in the garb of a wandering troubadour, and as such he sang before his lady-love, and finally arranged, with the aid of a serving-woman, that the maiden should effect her escape, while he should await her arrival with a noble courser and armed men. Herrick tells us the conclusion of the story in the following lines:—

“Up she got upon a wall,
Attempted down to slide withal.
But the silken twist untied,
So she fell and, bruised, she died.
Love in pity of the deed,
And her loving luckless speed,
Turn’d her to this plant we call
Now the Flower of the Wall.”

From the fact that Wallflowers grew upon old walls, and were seen on the casements and battlements of ancient castles, and among the ruins of abbeys, the minstrels and troubadours were accustomed to wear a bouquet of these flowers as the emblem of an affection which is proof against time and misfortune.——Dreams of Wallflowers imply—to a lover that the object of his affection will be true and constant; to a sickly person that recovery will shortly follow; to a lady who dreams that she is plucking the flower for her bouquet, that the worthiest of her admirers has yet to propose to her.——According to astrologers, the Moon governs the Wallflower.

WALNUT.—The origin of the Walnut-tree is to be found in the story of Carya, the youngest of the three daughters of Dion, king of Laconia. These sisters had received the gift of prophecy from Apollo as a reward for the hospitality their father had shown to the god, but on the condition that they were never to misuse the divine gift, and never to enquire into matters of which it became their sex to remain ignorant. This promise was broken when Bacchus convinced Carya of his love for her. The elder sisters, being jealous, endeavoured to prevent Bacchus from meeting Carya, and he in revenge turned them into stones, and transformed his beloved Carya into the tree so called in Greek—the Nux, or Walnut-tree of the Latins, the fruit of which was considered by the ancients, in consequence of these intrigues, to promote the powers of love.——It is necessary, in considering the folk-lore of the Walnut, to separate the tree from the nut. The tree is feared as a tree of ill omen, and is regarded as a favourite haunt of witches. The shade of the Walnut-tree was held by the Romans to be particularly baneful. The Black Walnut will not let anything grow under it, and if planted in an orchard will kill all the Apple-trees in its neighbourhood. The Nut is, on the contrary, considered propitious, favourable to marriage, and the symbol of fecundity and abundance. The ceremony of throwing Nuts at a wedding, for which boys scrambled, is said to have been of Athenian origin. A similar custom obtained among the Romans, at whose marriage festivities Walnuts were commonly strewed. Catullus exclaims:—

“Let the air with Hymen ring
Hymen, Io Hymen, sing.
Soon the Nuts will now be flung;
Soon the wanton verses sung;
Soon the bridegroom will be told
Of the tricks he played of old.
License then his love had got,
But a husband has it not:
Let the air with Hymen ring,
Hymen, Io Hymen, sing.”—Leigh Hunt.

Virgil alludes to the custom of scrambling for Nuts at weddings, in his Eighth Pastoral:—

“Prepare the lights
O Mopsus! and perform the bridal rites;
Scatter thy Nuts among the scrambling boys.”

Prof. De Gubernatis says, that the young bridegroom of modern Rome throws Nuts on the pathway, evidently as a symbol of fecundity. In Piedmont, there is a saying that “Bread and Nuts are food for married people.” In Sicily, at Modica, they strew Nuts and Corn in the path of the newly-married couple. In Greece, the bride and bridegroom distribute Nuts among those assisting at the marriage rites. In Roumania, Nuts are distributed at weddings; and among the Lettish peasantry, Nuts and Gingerbread-Nuts are presented to wedding-guests.——A Lithuanian legend recounts that at the deluge, as men were being drowned, Perkun (the chief deity of the race) was eating Nuts. He dropped the shells in the raging waters, and in the shells certain virtuous people escaped, and afterward repeopled the earth. De Gubernatis, referring to this legend, says that here the Walnut becomes undoubtedly an emblem of regeneration: “This is the reason why, in Belgium, on Michaelmas Day (a funereal day), young girls take marriage auguries from Nuts. Having mingled some full Nuts with others which have been emptied, and the shells carefully fastened together again, they shut their eyes, and select one at hazard. If it happens to be a full Nut, it betokens that they will soon be happily married, for it is St. Michael who has given them good husbands.” In Italy, a Nut with three segments is considered most lucky. Carried in the pocket, it preserves its owner from lightning, witchcraft, the Evil Eye, and fever; it facilitates conquest, gives happiness, and performs other benign services. In Bologna, it is thought that if one of these Nuts be placed under the chair of a witch, she will be unable to get up; and it thus becomes an infallible means of discovering witches.——The Walnut has become in Europe, and especially in Italy, an accursed tree. The ancients thought it was dear to Proserpine and all the deities of the infernal regions. In Germany, the Black Walnut is regarded as a sinister tree, just as the Oak is looked upon as a tree of good omen.——At Rome, there is a tradition that the church Santa Maria del Popolo was built by order of Paschal II., on the spot where formerly grew a Walnut-tree, round which troops of demons danced during the night. Near Prescia, in Tuscany, we are told by Prof. Giuliani, there is a Walnut-tree where witches are popularly supposed to sleep: the people of the district say that witches love Walnut-trees. At Bologna, the peasantry think that witches hold a nocturnal meeting beneath the Walnut-trees on the Vigil of St. John. But among all other Walnut-trees, the most infamous and the most accursed is the Walnut of Benevento, regarding which there are many tales of its being haunted by the Devil and witches. It is said that St. Barbatus, the patron of Benevento, who lived in the time of Duke Romuald, was a priest who was endowed with the power of exorcising devils by his prayers. At that time the inhabitants still worshipped a Walnut-tree on which was to be distinguished the effigy of a viper, and beneath this tree the people performed many superstitious and heathenish rites. The Emperor Constantius laid siege to Benevento; the citizens were in despair, but Barbatus rebuked them, and persuaded them that God had taken this means to punish them for their idolatry; so, with Romuald, they agreed to be converted to Christianity, and made Barbatus bishop of the town. Then Barbatus uprooted the accursed Walnut-tree, and the Devil was seen in the form of a serpent crawling away from beneath its roots. Upon being sprinkled with holy water, however, he disappeared; but through his satanic power, whenever a meeting of demons is desired, or a witches’ sabbath is to be held, a Walnut-tree as large and as verdant as the original appears by magic on the precise spot where it stood.——A Walnut-tree with very different associations once grew in the churchyard on the north side of St. Joseph’s Chapel at Glastonbury. This miraculous tree never budded before the feast of St. Barnabas (June 11th), and on that very day shot forth leaves and flourished like others of its species. Queen Anne, King James and many high personages are said to have given large sums of money for cuttings from the original tree, which has long since disappeared, and has been succeeded by a fine Walnut of the ordinary sort.——According to an old custom (which at one time prevailed in England), every household in the district of Lechrain, in Bavaria, brings to the sacred fire which is lighted at Easter a Walnut-branch, which, after being partially burned, is carried home to be laid on the hearth-fire during tempests, as a protection against lightning.——In Flanders, as a charm against ague, the patient catches a large black spider, and imprisons it between the two halves of a Walnut-shell, and then wears it round his neck.——In our own land, it is a common belief among country people that whipping a Walnut-tree tends to increase the crop and improve the flavour of the Nuts. This belief is found embodied in the following curious distich:—

“A woman, a spaniel, and a Walnut-tree,
The more you whip them, the better they be.”

Evelyn, alluding to this custom, says it is thought better to beat the Nuts off than to gather them from the tree by hand. “In Italy,” he tells us, “they arm the tops of long poles with nails and iron for the purpose, and believe the beating improves the tree, which I no more believe than I do that discipline would reform a shrew.”——The Brahmans of the Himalaya observe a festival called the Walnut Festival, Akrot-ka-pooja, at which, after offering a sacrifice, the priest, with a few companions, takes his place in the balcony of the temple, and all the young men present pelt them liberally with Walnuts and green Pine-cones, which the group in the balcony rapidly collect and return in plentiful volleys.——To dream of Walnuts portends difficulties and misfortunes in life: in love affairs, such a vision implies infidelity and disappointment.

Water Lily.—See Nymphæa.

Waybread.—See Plantain.

WHORTLEBERRY.—Whort or Whortleberry (the Anglo-Saxon Heorutberge is another name for the Bilberry or Blaeberry, (Vaccinium Myrtillus). A species of Whortleberry, called Ohelo (Vaccinium reticulatum), is found in Hawaii, springing up from the decomposed lava of the volcanoes of that island. Its flame-coloured berries are sacred to Pélé, the goddess of the volcano, and in heathen days no Hawaiian dared taste one till he had offered some to the goddess, and craved her permission to eat them. Miss Gordon Cumming relates that when Mr. Ellis visited the island in 1822, he and his trusty friends rejoiced on discovering these large juicy berries, but the natives implored them not to touch them lest some dire calamity should follow. Though themselves faint and parched, they dared not touch one till they reached the edge of the crater, where, gathering branches loaded with the tempting clusters, they broke them in two, and throwing half over the precipice, they called Pélé’s attention to the offering, and to the fact that they craved her permission to eat of her Ohelos. (See also Bilberry.)

WIDOW’S FLOWER.—The Indian or Sweet Scabious (Scabiosa atropurpurea) is called by the Italians Fior della Vedova, and by the French Fleur de Veuve, or Widow’s Flower. Phillips says of these flowers that they present us with “corollas of so dark a purple, that they nearly match the sable hue of the widow’s weeds; these being contrasted with anthers of pure white gives the idea of its being an appropriate bouquet for those who mourn for their deceased husbands, and this we presume gave rise to the Italian and French name of Widow’s Flower.”

WILLOW.—The Willow seems from the remotest times to have been considered a funereal tree and an emblem of grief. So universal is the association of sadness and grief with the Willow, that “to wear the Willow” has become a familiar proverb. Under Willows the captive Children of Israel wept and mourned in Babylon. Fuller, referring to this melancholy episode in their history, says of the Willow:—“A sad tree, whereof such as have lost their love make their mourning garlands; and we know that exiles hung their harps on such doleful supports. The very leaves of the Willow are of a mournful hue.” Virgil remarks on

> “The Willow with hoary bluish leaves;”

and Shakspeare, when describing the scene of poor Ophelia’s death, says:—

“There is a Willow grows ascant the brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the grassy stream.”

Chatterton has a song of which the burden runs:—

“Mie love ys dedde,
Gone to his death-bedde
Al under the Wyllowe-tree.”

Spenser designates the gruesome tree as “the Willow worn of forlorn paramours;” and there are several songs in which despairing lovers invoke the Willow-tree.

“Ah, Willow, Willow!
The Willow shall be
A garland for me,
Ah, Willow! Willow.”

Herrick tells us how garlands of Willow were worn by neglected or bereaved lovers, and how love-sick youths and maids came to weep out the night beneath the Willow’s cold shade. The following wail of a heart-broken lover is also from the pen of the old poet:—

“A Willow garland thou did’st send
Perfumed, last day, to me,
Which did but only this portend—
I was forsook by thee.
Since it is so, I’ll tell thee what:
To-morrow thou shalt see
Me wear the Willow; after that,
To die upon the tree.
As hearts unto the altars go,
With garlands dressed, so I,
With my Willow-wreath, also
Come forth and sweetly die.”

Jason, in his voyage in search of the golden fleece, passed the weird grove of Circe, planted with funereal Willows, on the tops of which the voyagers could perceive corpses hanging. Pausanias speaks of a grove consecrated to Proserpine, planted with Black Poplars and Willows; and the same author represents Orpheus, whilst in the infernal regions, as carrying a Willow-branch in his hand. Shakspeare, in allusion to Dido’s being forsaken by Æneas, says:—

“In such a night,
Stood Dido, with a Willow in her hand,
Upon the wild sea-banks, and waved her love
To come again to Carthage.”

The Willow was considered to be the tree of Saturn. The Weeping Willow (Salix Babylonica), as being a remedy for fluxes, was, however, consecrated to Juno Fluonia, who was invoked by Roman matrons to stop excessive hemorrhage.——The Flemish peasantry have a curious custom to charm away the ague. The sufferer goes early in the morning to an old Willow, makes three knots in one of its branches, and says “Good morning Old One; I give thee the cold, Old One.”——The Willow wand has long been a favourite instrument of divination. The directions are as follows:—Let a maiden take a Willow-branch in her left hand, and, without being observed, slip out of the house and run three times round it, whispering all the time, “He that’s to be my gude man come and grip the end of it.” During the third run, the likeness of her future husband will appear and grasp the other end of the wand.——De Gubernatis says that at Brie (Ile-de-France), on St. John’s Eve, the people burn a figure made of Willow-boughs. At Luchon, on the same anniversary, they throw snakes on a huge effigy of a Willow-tree made with branches of Willow; this is set on fire, and while it is burning the people dance around the tree.——In China, the Willow is employed in their funeral rites, the tree having been there considered, from the remotest ages, to be a symbol of immortality and eternity. On this account they cover the coffin with branches of Willow, and plant Willows near the tombs of the departed. They also have a custom of decorating the doors of their houses with Willow-branches on Midsummer Day. With them the Willow is supposed to be possessed of marvellous properties, amongst which is the power of averting the ill effects of miasma and pestilential disorders.——To dream of mourning beneath a Willow over some calamity is considered a happy omen, implying the speedy receipt of intelligence that will cause much satisfaction.——By astrologers the Willow is placed under the dominion of the moon.

Wind Flower.—See Anemone.

Witch-Hazel.—See Hornbeam. Witch- or Wych-Elm, Ulmus montana.

Wolf’s Bane.—See Monk’s Hood.

Woodbine.—See Honeysuckle.

WORMWOOD.—The old Latin name of Wormwood was Absinthium, and a variety known as A. Ponticum is alluded to by Ovid as being particularly bitter:—

“Untilled barren ground the loathsome Wormwood yields,
And well ’tis known how, through its root, bitter become the fields.”

Johnston, in his Thaumatographia naturalis, notes a curious superstition, according to which we are assured that an infant will not during its life be either hot or cold provided that its hands are rubbed over with the juice of Wormwood before the twelfth week of its life has expired. The ancients mingled Wormwood in their luscious wines, or used it before or after drinking them in order to counteract their effects. Sprays of Wormwood are often seen suspended in cottages to drive away moths and other insects.

“Where chamber is sweeped, and Wormwood is throwne,
No flea for his life dare abide to be knowne.”

Its powerful odour is so disliked by all kinds of insects that country people often place Wormwood in their drawers to protect their clothes, &c., from moths: hence its French name, Garde-robe. Gerarde says that, mixed with vinegar, it is a good antidote to the poison of Mushrooms or Toadstools, and taken with wine counteracts the poisonous effects of Hemlock and the bites of the shrew mouse and sea dragon.——Branches of Sea Wormwood (Absinthium marinum) were, according to Pliny, carried in processions by Egyptian priests dedicated to the service of the goddess Isis. A species called Sementina was formerly called Holy Wormwood, and its seed Holy Wormseed (semen sanctum)—for what reason is not known.——Dreams connected with Wormwood are considered of good augury, implying happiness and domestic enjoyment. Astrologers adjudge Wormwood to be a herb of Mars.

YARROW.—The Yarrow, or Milfoil (Achillea Millefolium), is a plant which delights to find a home for itself in churchyards. Probably on account of this peculiarity it has been selected to play an important part in several rustic incantations and charms. In the South and West of England, damsels resort to the following mode of love-divination:—The girl must first pluck some Yarrow from a young man’s grave, repeating the while these words:—

“Yarrow, sweet Yarrow, the first that I have found,
In the name of Jesus Christ I pluck it from the ground;
As Jesus loved sweet Mary, and took her for His dear,
So in a dream this night, I hope my true love will appear.”

She must then sleep with the Yarrow under her pillow, and in her dreams her future husband will appear.——Another formula states: The Yarrow must be plucked exactly on the first hour of morn: place three sprigs in your shoe or glove, saying:—

“Good morning, good morning, good Yarrow,
And thrice good morning to thee;
Tell me, before this time to-morrow,
Who my true love is to be.”

Observe, a young man must pluck the Yarrow off a young maiden’s grave, and a female must select that off a bachelor’s. Retire home to bed without speaking another word, or it dissolves the spell; put the Yarrow under your pillow, and it will procure a sure dream on which you may depend.——In another spell to procure for a maiden a dream of the future, she is to make a posey of various coloured flowers, one of a sort, some Yarrow off a grave, and a sprig of Rue, and bind all together with a little hair from her head. She is then to sprinkle the nosegay with a few drops of the oil of amber, using her left hand, and bind the flowers round her head when she retires to rest in a bed supplied with clean linen. This spell it is stated will ensure the maid’s future fate to appear in a dream.——The Yarrow acquired the name of Nosebleed from its having been put into the nose to cause bleeding, and to cure the megrim, as we learn from Gerarde. Dr. Prior adds, that it was also called Nosebleed from its being used as a means of testing a lover’s fidelity, and he quotes from Forby, who, in his ‘East Anglia,’ says that, in that part of England, a girl will tickle the inside of the nostril with a leaf of this plant, crying:—

“Yarroway, Yarroway, bear a white blow;
If my love love me, my nose will bleed now.”

By a blunder of the mediæval herbalists, the name and remedial character of the Horse-tail, which was formerly called Herba sanguinaria and Nosebleed, were transferred without reason to the Yarrow, which has since retained them.——The Yarrow is also known as Old Man’s Pepper, and was formerly called the Souldier’s Woundwort. The Highlanders make an ointment from it; and it was similarly employed by the ancient Greeks, who said that Achilles first made use of this plant as a wound herb, having learnt its virtues of Chiron, the Centaur—hence its scientific name Achillea.——Astrologers place the herb under the dominion of Venus.——To dream of gathering Yarrow for medicinal purposes denotes that the dreamer will shortly hear of something that will give him or her extreme pleasure.

YEW.—The dark and sombre Yew-tree has from the remote past been invested with an essentially funereal character, and hence is appropriately found in the shade of churchyards and in propinquity to tombs. Blair, addressing himself to the grave, says:—

“Well do I know thee by thy trusty Yew,
Cheerless, unsocial plant, that loves to dwell
’Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs, and worms;
Where light-heeled ghosts, and visionary shades,
Beneath the wan cold moon (so fame reports),
Embody’d, thick, perform their mystic rounds.
No other merriment, dull tree, is thine.”

The Egyptians regarded it as a symbol of mourning, and the idea descended to the Greeks and Romans, who employed the wood as fuel for their funeral pyres. The Britons probably learned from the Romans to attach a funereal signification to the Yew, and inasmuch as it had been employed in ancient funeral rites, they regarded the tree with reverence and probably looked upon it as sacred. Hence, in course of time, the Yew came to be planted in churchyards, and, on account of its perpetual verdure, was, like the Cypress, considered as a symbol of the resurrection and immortality.

“Dark Cypresses the skirting sides adorned,
And gloomy Yew-trees, which for ever mourned.”—Harte.

R. Turner remarks that if the Yew “be set in a place subject to poysonous vapours, the very branches will draw and imbibe them: hence it is conceived that the judicious in former times planted it in churchyards on the west side, because those places being fuller of putrefaction and gross oleaginous vapours exhaled out of the graves by the setting sun, and sometimes drawn into those meteors called ignes fatui, divers have been frightened, supposing some dead bodies to walk; others have been blasted, &c.” Prof. Martyn points out that a Yew was evidently planted near the church for some religious purpose; for in the ancient laws of Wales the value of a consecrated Yew is set down as £1, whilst that of an ordinary Yew-tree is stated as only fifteen pence. “Our forefathers,” says he, “were particularly careful to preserve this funereal tree, whose branches it was usual to carry in solemn procession to the grave, and afterwards to deposit therein under the bodies of their departed friends. Our learned Ray says, that our ancestors planted the Yew in churchyards because it was an evergreen tree, as a symbol of that immortality which they hoped and expected for the persons there deposited. For the same reason this and other evergreen trees are even yet carried in funerals, and thrown into the grave with the body; in some parts of England and in Wales, planted with flowers upon the grave itself.” Shakspeare speaks of a “shroud of white, stuck all with Yew,” from which one would infer that sprigs of Yew were placed on corpses before burial. Branches of Yew were, in olden times, often carried in procession on Palm Sunday, instead of Palm, and as an evergreen Yew was sometimes used to decorate churches and houses at Christmas-time.——Parkinson remarks that in his time it was used “to deck up houses in Winter; but ancient writers have ever reckoned it to be dangerous at the least, if not deadly.” Many of the old writers were of Parkinson’s opinion as to the poisonous character of the Yew. Cæsar tells how Cativulcus, king of the Eburones, poisoned himself by drinking a draught of Yew. Dioscorides says that a decoction of the leaves occasions death; Galen pronounces the tree to be of a venomous quality and against man’s nature; and White, in his ‘History of Selborne,’ gives numerous instances in which the Yew has proved fatal to animals. Gerarde does not consider the berries poisonous, but thinks non-ruminating animals are injured by eating the foliage. He tells us that “Nicander, in his booke of counter-poisons, doth reckon the Yew-tree among the venomous plants, setting downe also a remedy, and that in these words, as Gorræus hath translated them:—

‘Shun the poys’nous Yew, the which on Oeata grows,
Like to the Firre, it causes bitter death,
Unlesse besides they use pure wine that flowes
From empty’d cups, thou drinke, when as thy breath
Begins to fade, and passage of thy life
Grows straight.’”

Virgil attributed the notoriously unwholesome qualities of the honey of Corsica to the bees feeding upon the Yew, and he warns bee-keepers to be careful that no Yew-trees grow near their hives. Owing to its being so frequently found in churchyards, a ghastly superstition has arisen respecting this sinister tree: it is said that it preys and invigorates itself upon the dead who lie beneath its sombre shade. Thus, in ‘In Memoriam,’ we read:—

“Old Yew, which graspest at the stones
That name the underlying dead,
Thy fibres net the dreamless head,
Thy roots are wrapt about the bones.”

Even in the principal use the Yew was put to, the tree maintained its connection with death, for from its wood man fashioned an instrument of warfare and destruction. Its great pliancy and toughness made it particularly suitable for bows, and for this purpose it was unrivalled. Virgil tells us that in his time “the Yews were bent into Ituræan bows”; Chaucer speaks of “the Shooter Yew;” and Browne writes of

“The warlike Yewgh by which more than the lance
The strong-armed English spirits conquered France.”

Camden has recorded a grim legend in connection with the name of Halifax. It seems that a certain amorous clergyman fell in love with a pretty maid who refused his addresses. Maddened by her refusal he cut off her head, which being hung upon a Yew-tree till it was quite decayed, the tree was reputed as sacred, not only whilst the virgin’s head hung on it, but as long as the tree itself lasted: to which the people went in pilgrimage, plucking and bearing away branches of it as a holy relique, whilst there remained any of the trunk; persuading themselves that those small veins and filaments resembling hairs were the hairs of the virgin. But what is yet stranger, the resort to this place, then called Houton, a despicable village, occasioned the building of the now famous town of Halifax, in Yorkshire, the name of which imports “holy hair.”——In the cloister of Vreton, in Brittany, there grew a Yew-tree which was said to have sprung from the staff of St. Martin. Beneath it the Breton princes were accustomed to offer up a prayer before entering the church. This tree was regarded with the highest reverence; no one ever plucked a leaf from its sombre boughs, and even the birds refrained from pecking the scarlet berries. A band of pirates, however, happening to visit the locality, two of them spied the tree, and forthwith climbed into its venerable boughs and proceeded to cut bow-staves for themselves: their audacity speedily brought about its own punishment, for they both fell and were killed on the spot.——Both in old Celtic and in Anglo-Saxon the Yew-tree was called Iw. By early English authors its name was variously spelt Yew, Yeugh, Ewgh, Ugh, and Ewe. In Switzerland, it is known as William Tell’s Tree.——Dream oracles state that there is but one signification to dreams concerning the Yew, viz., that it is the certain forerunner of the demise of an aged person, through which the dreamer will derive substantial benefits.

YGGDRASILL.—The mythical Scandinavian World-tree, or Mundane Ash, is the greatest and best of all trees: beneath it the gods assemble in counsel; its branches spread over the whole world and reach above heaven; and its roots penetrate to the infernal regions. On its summit is perched an all-seeing eagle, with a hawk between his eyes. A squirrel continually carries news to him, while serpents coiled round the vast trunk endeavour to destroy him. Serpents, also, constantly gnaw the roots, from which come the fountains of wisdom and futurity. The Norns always keep a watch upon the Yggdrasill: they fix the lifetime of all men, and dispense destinies. Under the tree is hidden the horn which shall be sounded and rouse the world at the last great conflict.

## Footnotes.

1 The name of “Tooba” applied to this tree, originated in a misunderstanding of the words Tooba lahum, “it is well with them,” or “blessedness awaits them,” in Koran xiii., 28. Some commentators took Tooba for the name of a tree. [↑]

2 Besides the localities already mentioned, Paradise has been located on Mount Ararat; in Persia; in Ethiopia; in the land now covered by the Caspian Sea; in a plain on the summit of Mount Taurus; in Sumatra; in the Canaries; and in the Island of Ceylon, where there is a mountain called the Peak of Adam, underneath which, according to native tradition, lie buried the remains of the first man, and whereon is shown the gigantic impress of his foot. Goropius Becanus places Paradise near the river Acesines, on the confines of India. Tertullian, Bonaventura, and Durandus affirm that it was under the Equinoctial, while another authority contends that it was situated beneath the North Pole. Virgil places the happy land of the Hyperboreans under the North Pole, and the Arctic Regions were long associated with ideas of enchantment and beauty, chiefly because of the mystery that has always enveloped these remote and unexplored regions. Peter Comestor and Moses Barcephas set Paradise in a region separated from our habitable zone by a long tract of land and sea, and elevated so that it reaches to the sphere of the moon. [↑]

3 Treatise on the Legend of the Sacred Wood. Vienna, 1870. [↑]

4 Sir John Maundevile, who visited Jerusalem about the middle of the fourteenth century, states that to the north of the Temple stood the Church of St. Anne, “oure Ladyes modre: and there was our Lady conceyved. And before that chirche is a gret tree, that began to growe the same nyght.... And in that chirche is a welle, in manere of a cisterne, that is clept Probatica Piscina, that hath 5 entreez. Into that welle aungeles were wont to come from Hevene, and bathen hem with inne: and what man that first bathed him aftre the mevynge of the watre, was made hool of what maner sykenes that he hadde.” [↑]

5 In the rites appertaining to the great sacrifice in honour of the god Vishnu at the end of March, the following plants were employed, and consequently acquired a sacred character in the eyes of the Indians:—Sesamum seed, leaves of the Asvattha, Mango leaves, flowers of the Sami, Kunda flowers, the Lotus flower, Oleander flowers, Nagakesara flowers, powdered Tulasi leaves, powdered Bel leaves, leaves of the Kunda, Barley meal, meal of the Nivara grain (a wild paddy), powder of Sati leaves, Turmeric powder, meal of the Syamaka grain, powdered Ginger, powdered Priyangu seeds, Rice meal, powder of Bel leaves, powder of the leaves of the Amblic Myrobalan, and Kangni seed meal.—An Imperial Assemblage at Delhi Three Thousand Years Ago. [↑]

6 ‘Voyage du Jeune Anacharsis en Grèce, vers le milieu du quatrième siècle avant l’ere vulgaire.’ [↑]

7 For further details of the rites of St John’s Eve, see Part II., under the heads “Fern,” “Hemp,” and “Moss-Rose.” [↑]

8 See legend in Part II., under the head of “Clover.” [↑]

9 The legend is given in Part II., under the heading “Laurel.” [↑]

10 Contemporary Review, Vol. xxxi., p. 520. [↑]

11 ‘The Land of the Veda,’ by Rev. P. Percival. [↑]

12 Further details will be found in the succeeding chapter. [↑]

13 Early Greek writers describe Circe as the daughter of Sol and Perseis, and Medea as her niece. [↑]

14 The names of certain of these demons will be found in the previous chapter. [↑]

15 ‘All the Year Round,’ Vol. xiii. [↑]

16 ‘Plant Symbolism,’ in ‘Natural History Notes,’ Vol. II. [↑]

17 The garden of Proserpina. [↑]

## Index to Legends and Myths.

- Acis and Galatea, 532
- Adam, Eve, the Wolf, and the Dog, 362
- Adam’s Tree, 303
- Ajax, 404
- Albertus Magnus, 133
- Ali Baba and the Sesame, 544
- Amaracus, 433
- Amaranthus, 212
- Andromeda, 214
- Arabian Priests and Cinnamon, 283
- Argonauts, 81, 249
- Arjuna, the Betel Thief, 251
- Aroth, Maroth, and the Beauty, 577
- Aspen and the Flight into Egypt, 230
- Aspen and the Passion, 229
- Aspic and Balm-tree, 239
- Asses and Hemlock, 145
- Atalanta and Hippomenes, 218
- Atys and Agdistis, 210
- Atys and Cybele, 495

- Baldr and the Mistletoe, 440
- Balm Trees of Cairo, 124
- Bachelier and the Anemone, 216
- Bacchus and the Pomegranate, 499
- Batou and the Cedar, 275
- Bertram and the Heartsease, 484
- Birth of Vishnu, 241
- Blacksmith changed to a Bear, 250
- Bonze and the Mouse, 513
- Bosworth Field, 360
- Buddha, 4, 420, 491
- Buddha and Mâra, 4
- Bushman Rice, 514

- Callimachus and the Acanthus, 206
- Calchas and Mopsus, 335
- Ceres and Proserpine, 504
- Chang Ching and the Fairy, 449
- Charlemagne and the Thistle, 269
- Chinese Trees of Love, 274
- Clairon and the Violets, 581
- Clovis, 387
- Clytie and Phœbus, 365
- Cosmogonic Lotus, 419
- Cossacks and Tartars, 286
- Crocus and Smilax, 299
- Crown Imperial, 347
- Cyanus and the Cornflower, 277
- Cyparissus, 302
- Czekanka, 326

- Danes and the Thistle, 562
- Daphne and Phœbus, 404
- Daughter of the Laurel, 408
- Death of Buddha, 539
- Devil and Blackberries, 258
- Devil and the Oats, 472
- Devil and the Reed, 512
- Devil’s Brother, 451
- Dewadat and Buddha, 268
- Diarmuid and Grainne, 531
- Duke of Tuscany’s Gardener, 392
- Dryope, 417

- Earl of Essex’s Horses, 445
- Elm of Ethiopia, 131
- Emperor of China, 447
- Envious Sisters, 436
- Erisichthon, 77
- Esthonian Peasant, 254
- Eugénie and Napoleon III., 581
- Eve and the Snowdrop, 546

- Fairy Wife, 356
- Fairy Widower, 333
- Faithful Wife, 551
- Falcon and Soma, 439
- Fatal Elopement, 582
- Father Garnet’s Straw, 134
- Fig of Paradise, 127
- Fir-tree Elf, 65
- First Roses, 515
- Flora and Zephyr, 215
- Forget-me-not, 342
- Fulke and the Plantagenets, 260

- Garden of the Lower Regions, 223
- Gefroi and the Broom, 260
- Glastonbury Thorn, 352
- Glaucus, 541
- Golden Apples, 477
- Grey Horse, 265

- Hanpang and Ho, 274
- Hercules and Cerberus, 442
- Holy Family and Date Palm, 312
- Holy Rose of Jericho, 528
- Honor Garrigan and the Blackberries, 259
- Hoopoe and Springwort, 142
- Hop-o’-my-Thumb, 263
- Hulda and the Selige Fräulein, 340
- Hyacinthus, 383

- Ianthis, 578
- Ice Mountain, 223
- Iduna and the Apples, 217
- Indra and Namuchi, 207
- Io, 578
- Iosbert, 519
- Isabella and the Basil, 246
- Iseult and Tristan, 389
- Isis and Osiris, 560

- James, Duke of Monmouth, 257
- Jehanghir and Attar of Roses, 521
- Jesus Christ and the Broom, 260
- Jesus Christ and the Apples, 222
- Juno and Hercules, 397, 412
- Jussieu and the Cedar, 274

- Kang Wou and the Cassia, 271
- Khatties, The, 116
- King Midas and the Barber, 511
- King Oswald and the Moss, 445
- Kissos, 388

- La Cour and the Tuberose, 568
- Ladislas and the Plague, 350
- Laurel Maiden, 75
- Leucothea, 346
- Lieschi, the Geni of the Forest, 253
- Life-giving Herb, 144
- Lords of Linden, 416
- Lotus and Priapus, 417
- Luckflower, 112
- Lycurgus and the Cabbage, 264

- Macbeth and Sweno, 546
- Magic Fern-seed, 330
- Magic Flute, 431
- Magic Mustard-seed, 453
- Magic Pumpkin, 507
- Magic Thistle, 562
- Magic Violin-bow, 81
- Main de Gloire, 428
- Malvina and Oscar, 308
- Mandrake, 426
- Maria Theresa and the Camellia, 266
- Maschia and Maschiäna, 301
- McDonough’s Baby, 361
- Melampus and Hellebore, 368
- Melius and the Apple, 218
- Mercury and his Rod, 362
- Mexican Water Age, 435
- Mignonette, 437
- Milkmaid and Enchanted Cow, 288
- Millet-thief, 438
- Milto, 518
- Minerva and the Olive, 473
- Monastery of St. Christine, 257
- Murdered Virgin, 591
- Myrene, 454
- Myrrha, 453

- Narcissus, 457
- Novice and the Styrax, 131

- Oak of Signa, 469
- Olive-bearing Birds, 143
- Ominous Red Rose, 199
- Orchis and Acolasia, 478
- Origin of the Tea-shrub, 561
- Orpheus and the Elms, 323
- Osmund and the Danes, 479

- Pæon and Æsculapius, 493
- Pæonia and Phœbus, 493
- Parizataco, 534
- Pales and the Fishermen, 209
- Pelops and Myrtillus, 252
- Pélé, Goddess of the Volcano, 585
- Perkun and the Deluge, 583
- Phaethon and the Heliades, 502
- Philemon and Baucis, 414
- Phyllis and Demophoon, 210
- Picts and Heather Beer, 365
- Pilgrim and the Palm, 481
- Polydorus and Polymnestor, 295
- Postomani, 505
- Prophetic Trees of Basle, 198
- Proserpine and the Pomegranate, 500
- Pyramus and Thisbe, 447
- Pythagoras and the Beans, 247

- Queen Christiania’s Diamonds, 213
- Queen of Sheba and Solomon, 18, 19, 303
- Queen of the Serpents, 451

- Ranunculus, 510
- Rhodanthe, 515
- Rhœcus and Jupiter, 463
- Rosa Marina, 527
- Rose and the Sun, 516
- Rose Elf, 66
- Rose of Bakawali, 570
- Rübezahl, 509
- Russalka and Basilek, 278

- Sacaibu and the First Men, 296
- Santon Akyazli, 381
- Sappho and Phaon, 327
- Satan and the Eglantine, 317
- Sâvitri, 65
- Seth and the Angel, 18, 19
- Seven Oaks, 471
- Seven Sisters, 324
- Shepherd of Ilsenstein, 552
- Shepherdess and the Oak, 468
- Side, 500
- Sister of the Flowers, 76
- Sivika and the Magic Wheat, 293
- Stone Tree, 126
- St. Benedict and Antidotes to Poison, 374
- St. Benedict and the Rose-briar, 525
- St. Brigid, 468
- St. Cecilia, 133
- St. Christopher, 482
- St. Dorothea, 133, 222
- St. Dunstan and the Devil, 223
- St. Dunstan and the Apple-trees, 223
- St. Elizabeth of Hungary, 133, 519
- St. Francis of Assisi, 519
- St. Leonard and the Dragon, 414
- St. Margaret of Cortona, 432
- St. Martin’s Yew, 591
- St. Patrick and the Shamrock, 545
- St. Peter’s Mother, 410
- St. Rosa di Lima, 519
- St. Serf, 219
- St. Thomas and the Madonna, 413
- St. Thomas and his Tree, 130
- Syrinx and Pan, 559

- Thlaspis, 268
- Thorn of Cawdor Castle, 362
- Titteli Ture, 555
- Tree of Adam, 17, 19
- Tree of Tiberias, 132
- Trees and the Cross, 386
- Trees and the Crucifixion, 48
- Trees and their Monarch, 474
- Trees of the Sun and Moon, 123

- Ulysses and the Lotos Eaters, 418
- Ulysses and the Moly, 442

- Venus and Adonis, 214, 341, 411
- Venus and the Rose, 516
- Venus and the Violet Nymphs, 579
- Venus’ Mirror, 267
- Veronica, 550
- Vertumnus and the Nymph, 307
- Virgin Mary and St. John, 483
- Virgin Mary and the Cherry-tree, 279
- Virgin Mary and the Fig-tree, 558
- Virgin Mary and the Juniper, 395
- Virgin Mary and the Lupine, 423
- Virgin Mary and the Orange-tree, 478
- Virgin Mary and the Palm, 481
- Virgin Mary and the Pine, 496
- Virgin Mary and the Rosemary, 526
- Virgin Mary and the Strawberry, 556

- Walnut-tree of Benevento, 584
- Wandering Jew, 238
- Wang Chih and the Date-stone, 312
- Watcher of the Roads, 325, 498
- Water Lily of Paradise, 463
- White Maidens of the Fichtelgebirge, 556
- Wild Woman and the Shepherdess, 253
- William the Conqueror, 533
- Willow Nymph, 81
- Witches and Alder Wood, 209
- Withered Tree of the Sun, 130, 131
- Wonderful Linden-tree, 415
- Woodpecker and the Spring-wort, 141, 551
- World of the Lower Regions, 577

- Xerxes and the Plane-tree, 497

- Zoroaster, 521

## General Index.

- Aaron, 130, 342, 501
- Abraham, 20, 61, 561
- Adam, 115, 240, 311, 335, 362, 456, 475, 501
- Adam in Eden, 15
- Adam Tree of, 17, et seq.
- Africans, 80
- All Saints’, or All Hallows’, Day, 60
- Almanacks, 137, 167
- Animal-bearing Tree, 210
- Animals, 145, et seq.
- Annunciation, 56, 269
- Anthropological Trees, 116
- Antiochus Epiphanes, 27
- Antony, 27, 517, 522
- Apollo, 24, 295, 384, 481, 560
- Apple Lore, 217
- Argonauts, 81, 249, 408, 465
- Arvales, 292, 335
- Ascension Day, 58, 213
- Asgard, 9
- Asherah, 6
- Asoka, 5, 229
- Assyrians, 24, 346, 387
- Assyrians, Sacred Tree of the, 6
- Astrology, 164
- Asvattha, 5, 236
- Atalanta, 477
- Augury by Birds, 138
- Avalon, 9, 218, 490

- Bacchus, 25, 388, 435, 496, 499, 517
- Baldr, 24
- Balm, 123, 124, 239
- Barnacle Tree, 118
- Barometz, 121, 243
- Battle Field Flowers, 505, 524, 549
- Bertha, 24, 40, 339
- Bethlehem, 41, 43
- Birds, 137, et seq.
- Black Dwarfs, 67
- Bongos, 80
- Brahma, 22, 106, 180, 252, 419
- Bridal Floral Ceremonies, 33
- Buddha, 4, 229, 241, 419, 490, 538
- Buddhists, 4, 5, 22, 293, 300, 419, 490, 538, 539
- Buddhists, World Tree of the, 4
- Bujan, 10
- Burial Customs, 194, 196, 497
- Burmans, 22, 79, 268
- Butterfly Tree, 121

- Calumny-destroyer, 109
- Calvary, 48, 228, 375, 479, 550
- Candlemas Day, 256, 546
- Centaurs, 25
- Cerberus, 94
- Ceremonies, Floral, 26, et seq.
- Ceres, 25, 292, 306, 455, 458, 500, 504
- Chaldæans, 107, 113, 176, 294
- Chaplets, 36
- Charles II., 471
- Charms and Spells, 96, 234, 259, 261, 287, 288, 309, 313, 318, et seq., 327, 332, 339, 349, 357, 364, 368, 369, 370, 372, 377, 383, 396, 399, 400, 407, 417, 427, 431, 439, 442, 450, 460, 463, 489, 490, 493, 498, 506, 511, 512, 523, 527, 528, 530, 532, 537, 554, 564, 567, 573
- Cheese-colouring, 249
- Chinese, 23, 113, 117, 178, 226, 240, 241, 271, 289, 351, 425, 437, 459
- Chiron, 25, 277
- Christian Church, Plants of the, 40, 55, 57, 440, 533
- Christmas, 44, 60, 377, 462
- Christmas-tree, 337
- Churchyards, 192, 590
- Circe, 91, 94, 325, 358, 426
- Cleopatra, 27, 517, 522
- Coffins, 192
- Corn Spirits, 81
- Corpus Christi Day, 59
- Corpus Domini Procession, 32
- Cosmogonic Trees, 1–8
- Cross Oaks, 61, 469
- Cross, Wood of the, 46, 273, 304, 386, 471, 475, 483, 503, 530
- Crown of Thorns, 44, 359, 377, 512, 524, 564
- Crucifixion, 47, 374, 385, 479
- Cruciform Flowers, 55, 180
- Cuckoo, 137, 300
- Cupid, 267, 305, 517, 579
- Cybele, 24, 28, 292, 517

- Danes, 310, 479, 546
- David, 17, 303
- Dead Sea Fruit, 124, 225
- Dead, The, 193, 230, 246, 247, 248, 358, 488
- Death Portents, 198
- Deborah, 190, 464
- Dedication, Feast of, 57
- Demons, 4, 16, 80, 83, 279, 331, 336, 396, 451, 490, 534
- Devil, Plants of the, 82, et seq., 332, 462, 472, 549
- Dew, 30, 59
- Diana, 24, 228, 440, 444
- Dictionary of Flowers, 185
- Disease-bearing Trees, 81, 97, 259, 386, 470
- Distillatory Plant, 127
- Divination by Plants, 52, 101, 108, 138, 188, 221, 231, 248, 258, 264, 290, 291, 294, 295, 309, 370, 377, 381, 383, 398, 446, 450, 462, 476, 479, 489, 498, 504, 506, 513, 522, 523, 527, 535, 537, 563
- Divining Rod, 113, 354, 363, 501
- Doctrine of Plant Signatures, 154, et seq.
- Dragons, 152, 314
- Dream-procuring Plants, 102, 105, 107, 324
- Dreams, 211, 225, 226, 249, 257, 260, 265, 271, 280, 288, 290, 295, 300, 301, 306, 308, 310, 322, 336, 337, 338, 349, 355, 357, 364, 372, 385, 392, 397, 408, 413, 429, 433, 436, 449, 452, 457, 460, 461, 463, 472, 473, 476, 477, 478, 483, 486, 490, 497, 499, 502, 508, 509, 510, 511, 512, 524, 527, 534, 559, 560, 563, 565, 571, 578, 581, 582, 585, 587, 588, 589, 592
- Druids, 107, 113, 137, 181, 218, 250, 289, 441, 467, 529, 539, 542, 573
- Dryads, 74, 307

- Easter, 58, 486
- Ecstasies, 105, 178, 371, 406
- Eden, 11
- Egyptians, 23, 26, 105, 181, 195, 215, 299, 346, 349, 371, 373, 387, 421, 459, 476, 485, 488, 553, 560
- Eiresione, 31, 32
- Elder Mother, 80, 318
- Elder Queen, 80, 318
- Eleusinian Mysteries, 292
- Elves, 64, et seq., 318, 470
- Elysian Fields, 189, 457
- Embalming, 178, 195
- Eve, 15, 16, 18, 240, 362
- Evil Eye, 91, 102, 108, 110, 212, 227, 253, 333, 357, 450, 509, 513, 529, 532

- Fabulous, Wondrous, and Miraculous Plants, 116, et seq.
- Fairies, 50, 64, et seq., 264, 288, 333, 344, 356, 361, 526, 538, 566
- Fairy Revels, 67
- Fairy Plants, 69
- Fairy Unguent, 71
- Fates, The, 25, 385, 426, 458
- Father Garnet’s Straw, 134, et seq.
- Fauns, 74, 497
- Festaroli, 39
- Festivals, Floral, 34
- Festivals, Church, 57
- Fijians, 290
- Fire, 236, 347, 359, 376, 394, 396, 460, 467, 480, 489, 501, 513, 514, 540, 543, 552
- Fire Generator, 236, 491, 539
- Flora, 28
- Floralia, Festival of, 29
- Floral Ceremonies, Wreaths, and Garlands, 26, et seq.
- Floral Symbols, 180
- Floral Games and Festivals, 34, 212, 520
- Floral Vocabulary, 185
- Flowers, Dictionary of, 185
- Flowers of the Saints, 53, et seq.
- Flowers of the Church’s Festivals, 57, et seq.
- Forbidden Fruit, 16
- Frau Holda’s Tree, 7
- Freemasonry, 195, 295
- Freyja, 24, 40, 42, 499
- Frigg, 24, 440, 479, 556
- Funeral Pyre, 39, 195, 359
- Funeral Trees and Plants, 189, et seq., 473, 485, 494, 497, 503, 504, 507, 522, 525, 544
- Furies, The, 25

- Games, Greek and Roman, 38
- Gandharvas, 25, 236, 548
- Garland of Julia, 184
- Garlands, Chaplets, and Wreaths, 36, et seq.
- Garnet’s Straw, 134
- Garofalo, 270
- Gipsies, 47
- Glastonbury, 63, 352, 362
- Gold, 111
- Golden Herb, 289, 542
- Golden Apple, 123, 477, 501, 508
- Golden Rose, 518
- Good Friday, 44, 254
- Goose Tree, 118
- Gospel Oaks, 60, 468
- Graces, The, 517
- Graves, 193, 379, 485
- Greeks, Mother Tree of the, 6
- Greeks, Floral Ceremonies of the, 27
- Greeks, Games of the, 38
- Greeks, Passion for Flowers among the, 177
- Greeks, Sacred Plants of the, 24
- Greeks, Wreaths and Garlands of the, 37
- Groves, Sacred, 76

- Hags, 91, 94, 97, 358, 449
- Hallowe’en, 220, 264, 462
- Hamadryads, 74
- Haoma, 5, 9, 378
- Hecate, 91, 385, 549
- Heliogabalus, 27, 517
- Herbalists, 97, 161
- Herbals, 160
- Hercules, 25, 217, 305, 397, 474, 477, 481, 485, 508
- Hesperides, 9, 123, 217, 477, 508
- Hindus, 3, 22, 39, 79, 173, 177, 180, 188, 213, 214, 227, 228, 229, 236, 237, 239, 241, 245, 251, 252, 293, 296, 312, 313, 315, 339, 356, 373, 391, 398, 400, 419, 423, 428, 439, 473, 480, 513, 539, 544, 547
- Hindu World Tree, 3
- Holdikens, 92
- Holy Family, 41
- Hulda, 24, 318, 319, 339, 340
- Huzza, 206
- Hyacinthia, 384

- Iduna, 217
- Ilpa, 3
- Incense, 26, 178, 346, 395, 454, 525, 539, 551
- Indians, 79, 240, 289, 315, 488, 560
- Indians, South American, 263, 265, 271, 281, 297, 311
- Indra, 22, 293
- Inscriptions in Plants, 127
- Iranians, World Tree of the, 5
- Iris, 387
- Irminsul, 7, 23, 471
- Isis, 337, 341, 346, 421, 560

- Janus, 25
- Japanese, 36, 124, 178, 266, 282, 446, 488, 499
- Japanese New Year’s Festival, 36
- Jerusalem, 393
- Jesus Christ, 41, 43, 386, 478, 481, 496
- Jews, 8, 11, 13, 21, 23, 24, 50, 61, 131, 180, 181, 190, 205, 211, 225, 238, 240, 247, 256, 258, 263, 270, 271, 273, 282, 283, 291, 300, 303, 311, 321, 336, 339, 346, 349, 355, 359, 362, 364, 365, 370, 373, 380, 385, 386, 393, 394, 396, 405, 409, 426, 452, 453, 456, 459, 464, 474, 476, 483, 497, 501, 525, 528, 558, 560
- Job, 340, 393
- Jonah, 393
- Joseph, 40, 41, 342, 473, 478, 481
- Joseph of Arimathea, 352, 362
- Judas Iscariot, 49, 317, 321, 394
- Julie de Rambouillet, 348
- Juno, 24, 25, 40, 217, 385, 397, 424, 444, 477, 500
- Jupiter, 24, 25, 217, 305, 385, 397, 474, 477, 481

- Kalpadruma, 3
- Kâmadeva, 39, 177, 420, 429, 557
- Khatties, 117
- Krishna, 245

- Language of Flowers, 176, 185
- Lamb-bearing Tree, 122
- Lamb, Vegetable, 121, 243
- Leap Year, 248
- Lent, 411, 458
- Lepers, 285
- Lightning, 111, 138, 142, 235, 359, 363, 376, 382, 407, 440, 460, 461, 480, 489, 530, 543, 544, 552, 554, 563
- Loki, 82, 217, 461, 472
- Lotos-eaters, 418
- Love, 101, 108
- Love Charms, 101, 107, 108, 231, 301, 302, 326, 370, 381, 383, 446, 462, 479, 506, 522, 523, 575
- Love Philtres, 94, 107
- Luckflower, 422, 553
- Lunacy, 248
- Lunar Herb, 125
- Lunar Influence on Plants, 167

- Madness, 88, 100, 368
- Madonna, 43
- Magi, 347
- Magical Plants, 105
- Magic Wands and Divining Rods, 113, et seq.
- Mahâdeva, 39, 242
- Mahomet, 10, 24, 425, 514, 516
- Man in the Moon, 174, 265, 271, 565
- Manna, 429, 448
- Marcon, 341
- Marriages, 33, 251, 293, 295, 315, 329, 359, 433, 455, 461, 466, 478, 501, 513, 525
- Mars, 24
- Martyrs, 54
- Mary Magdalene, 43, 296, 424, 444
- Mary. See Virgin Mary.
- May-day Customs, 29, 30, 31, 58, 360
- May Tree, 31, 359, 435
- Medea, 91, 329
- Memorial Trees, 60
- Mercury, 25, 362
- Michaelmas, 258
- Midsummer, 50, 60, 69, 83, 96, 111, 295, 331, 361, 370, 479, 489, 522, 535
- Minerva, 25, 473
- Miraculous Trees and Plants, 129, et seq.
- Mithridates, 161, 532, 568
- Moly, 442, 531
- Moon, Man in the, 174, 265, 271, 565
- Moon and Gardening, 167
- Moon and Seed Sowing, 170
- Moon Plants, 125, 166, 172, 271, 444
- Moon Tree, Hindu, 4
- Monstrosities, 129
- Moses, 17, 115, 262, 283, 485
- Moss Folk, 66, 289, 445
- Mother Tree of the Greeks, Romans, and Teutons, 6, et seq.
- Mundane Tree, Norse, 2

- Naiades, 72
- Neptune, 24, 25, 473
- Nero, 27, 517
- Nightingale, 138
- Noah, 115, 475, 576
- Norse Gods, Plants of, 24
- Norse World Tree, 2
- Noxious, Deadly, and Ill-omened Plants, 86, et seq.

- Odin, 24
- Old English Funeral Customs, 196, et seq.
- Old Herbals, The, and Herbalists, 160, et seq.
- Oracles, 106, 249, 406, 465, 475
- Ordeal by Fire, 434
- Ormuzd, 1, 9, 21, 301
- Osiris, 346, 421, 560
- Oyster-bearing Tree, 120

- Palasa, 5, 480
- Palm Sunday, 58
- Pan, 25, 344
- Paradise, 12, 319
- Paradise, Celtic, 9
- Paradise, Græco-Roman, 9
- Paradise, Hindu, 10
- Paradise, Iranian, 9
- Paradise, Mosaic, 10
- Paradise, of Mahomet, 10
- Paradise, Russian, 9
- Parsis, 9, 21, 293, 306, 378
- Peascod Wooing, 489
- Persians, 24, 79, 193, 226, 306, 376, 572
- Phœnix, 284
- Phooka, 258
- Pixies, 64, et seq., 567
- Planetary Government of Plants
- Planets, 164, et seq.
- Plants of the Christian Church, 40, et seq.
- Plants of the Crucifixion, 47, et seq.
- Plants of the Virgin Mary, 41, et seq.
- Plants of St. John the Baptist, 50, et seq.
- Plants of the Devil, 82, et seq.
- Plants of the Fairies and Naiades, 65, et seq.
- Plants of the Water Nymphs and Fays, 71, et seq.
- Plants of the Witches, 90, et seq.
- Plants used for Charms and Spells, 96, et seq.
- Plants antagonistic to Witchcraft, 102, et seq.
- Plants bearing Inscriptions and Figures, 127, et seq.
- Plants connected with Birds and Animals, 137, et seq.
- Plants of Our Saviour, 43, et seq.
- Plants and the Planets, 164, et seq.
- Plants of the Moon, 172, et seq.
- Plants as Death Portents, 198, et seq.
- Plant Signatures, 154
- Plant Symbolism and Language, 176, et seq.
- Pluto, 24, 316, 424
- Poisonous Trees, 86
- Pomona, 76
- Portents, 198, 407, 414, 435, 452, 471, 486, 490, 506, 523, 557, 563
- Priapus, 25, 305
- Procca, 67
- Prophecy, 370, 406
- Prophets, 106, 406
- Proserpine, 24, 25, 292, 424, 458, 500, 504
- Puck, 82, 484, 567
- Purification, 43, 56

- Quack Doctors, 97

- Rhabdomancy, 113
- Robin, 140, 564
- Rogation Week, 58, 220, 348, 437
- Romans, Anthropological Tree of the, 7
- Romans, Floral Ceremonies of the, 27
- Romans, Sacred Plants of the, 24
- Romans, Wreaths and Garlands of the, 36
- Rosary, 43, 519, 531
- Rose Elf, 66
- Rose-pelting, 35
- Rosière, 35, 519
- Royal Oak Day, 59, 471
- Russalkis, 71
- Russalka, 278
- Rush-bearing, 58, 533

- Sacred Groves and their Denizens, 76, et seq.
- Sacred Trees and Plants of the Ancients, 21, et seq.
- Saffron Walden, 300
- Saint Andrew, 56
- Saint Anne, 54
- Saint Athanasius, 561
- Saint Barbara, 54, 375, 475
- Saint Barbatus, 584
- Saint Barnabas, 54, 56, 59, 584
- Saint Bartholomew, 56
- Saint Benedict, 53, 374, 525
- Saint Bernard, 413
- Saint Cecilia, 133
- Saint Christopher, 53, 374
- Saint Clara, 413
- Saint David, 410
- Saint Dominic, 43, 413
- Saint Dorothea, 133, 518
- Saint Dunstan, 223
- Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, 133, 519
- Saint Francis, 53, 413
- Saint George, 53
- Saint Gerard, 53, 374
- Saint Hilarion, 411
- Saint James, 53, 56, 59, 510
- Saint Jerome, 413
- Saint John the Baptist, 50, 60, 270, 330, 423, 536, 556
- Saint John the Evangelist, 56, 483
- Saint Joseph, 40, 413
- Saint Joseph of Arimathea, 62
- Saint Jude, 56
- Saint Katherine, 54, 398, 413
- Saint Leonard, 414
- Saint Louis de Gonzague, 413
- Saint Louis de Vincennes, 62
- Saint Luke, 56
- Saint Margaret, 54, 374, 424, 431
- Saint Mark, 56
- Saint Martin, 62, 130, 280
- Saint Matthew, 56
- Saint Médard, 35, 519
- Saint Michael, 18, 54, 56
- Saint Mungo, 73
- Saint Nicholas, 413, 489
- Saint Patrick, 54, 363, 541, 544
- Saint Paul, 54, 56, 59
- Saint Peter, 54, 56, 279, 539
- Saint Peter of Vincennes, 62
- Saint Philip, 59
- Saint Robert, 54, 375
- Saint Rosa, 519
- Saint Rosalia, 519
- Saint Serf, 130
- Saint Simon, 56, 280, 475
- Saint Stephen, 56
- Saint Thomas, 54, 56, 130, 268, 413
- Saint Urban, 133
- Saint Veronica, 48
- Saint Winifred, 55
- Saint John’s Eve and Day, 50, 60, 69, 83, 96, 111, 331, 361, 400, 409, 489, 490, 536
- Saints, Flowers of, 53, 536
- Saints’ Floral Directory, 56
- Sardanapalus, 27
- Saturn, 24
- Satyrs, 74, 540, 541
- Saxons and Apples, 218
- Scriptures, Floral Symbols of the, 181
- Serpents, 2, 18, 84, 121, 152, 153, 155, 160, 161, 162, 163, 206, 208, 226, 227, 231, 232, 233, 251, 258, 262, 299, 313, 328, 329, 359, 364, 369, 376, 380, 396, 397, 409, 415, 450, 485, 531, 549, 568, 574, 581, 584, 587, 592
- Seed-sowing and the Moon, 170
- Selenite, 173
- Serpent-bearing Tree, 121
- Seth, 17, 18, 19, 303
- Shakspeare, Floral Emblems of, 184
- Sheba, Queen of, 18, 19, 303
- Shefro, 344
- Sif, 24
- Signatures of Plants, 154
- Siva, 245, 560
- Skull, Moss on Human, 445
- Solomon, 17, 19, 62, 111, 263, 273, 283, 303
- Soma, 3, 106
- Somnus, 25
- Spells, 96
- Spirits, 78, 83
- Still Folk, 67
- Stone Tree, 126
- Strömkarl, 71
- Sun, 126, 166, 228, 309, 326, 366, 481, 558
- Superstitions connected with Plants, 97
- Sybarites, 521
- Sylvans, Wood Nymphs, and Tree
- Spirits, 74, et seq.
- Symbolism, 176

- Teutons, Mother Tree of the, 7
- Teutons, Sacred Plants of the, 24
- Tooba, 10, 13
- Tree of Life, 13
- Tree of Knowledge, 15, 241, 355
- Tree of Adam, 17, et seq.
- Tree of Death, 190
- Tree of Judas Iscariot, 49, et seq.
- Trees of Paradise, and Tree of Adam, 9, et seq.
- Trees, Celebrated, 61
- Trees, Memorial, 60
- Trees, Fabulous, 116
- Toulouse, Floral Games of, 34, 212, 520, 579
- Triumphs, Roman, 28
- Toads, 82, 153, 566
- Trinity, 287, 375, 545
- Trinity Sunday, 59, 287
- Tree Spirits, 58
- Tree Spirits, Indian, 59
- Tree Spirits, Burman, 59
- Tree Spirits, African, 60
- Tree Spirits, German, 60
- Trolls, 64, 353, 568
- Tombs, 189, 193, 379, 522
- Thunder, 111, 361, 460, 544, 552, 554
- Treasure-Caves, 112, 544, 552, 556
- Tyr, 24
- Thor, 24, 293, 305, 318, 362, 389, 460, 461, 489, 529
- Tulipomania, 570
- Tulasî, 245, 568

- Unshoeing Horses, 113, 381, 444, 445, 551, 571

- Vegetable Monstrosities, 129
- Virgin Mary, 40, 41, 142, 362, 363, 395, 402, 412, 433, 437, 469, 518, 519, 526, 535, 546, 556
- Venice Treacle, 162, 568
- Venus, 24, 40, 42, 216, 218, 402, 411, 454, 477, 516
- Vishnu, 22, 177, 241, 245, 419

- Wassail Bowl, 220, 526
- Wassailing, 219
- Wreaths, 36
- Weddings. See Marriages.
- Well-flowering, 32
- Whitsuntide, 59, 254, 256, 261
- Water Nymphs, 71
- Wells, Nymphs of, 72
- Wells, 33, 73, 554
- Wands, 113, 363
- Waterloo, 505
- War of the Roses, 520
- Witches, Plants of, 91, et seq., 209, 277, 358, 369, 373, 403, 444, 492, 509, 541, 542
- Witches, Plants antagonistic to, 102, 252, 258, 287, 313, 333, 374, 377, 495, 532, 537, 554
- Witches’ Children, 92
- Witches’ Chain, 101
- Witches’ Charms, 101
- Witches’ Gowan, 353
- Witches’ Potions, 93
- Witches’ Spells, 96
- Witches’ Steeds, 92
- Widows, Hindu, 250, 285
- Wise Women, 97
- Woden, 24
- Wood of the Cross, 46, et seq.
- Wood Nymphs, 74
- Wondrous Plants, 123
- World Trees of the Ancients, 1, et seq.

- Yama, 188
- Yule Log, 235
- Yggdrasill, 2, 7, 189, 232, 592

- Zoroaster, 5, 21, 26, 306, 376, 378, 521, 540

## Index of Plant Names.

[For Plants named after Birds and Animals, refer to chapter on that subject, p. 136.]

- Aaron, 228
- Acacia, 23, 37, 158, 195, 205, 539
- Acanthus, 46, 206
- Achillea matricaria, 174
- Achyranthes, 206
- Acis, 532
- Aconite, 443
- Acorn, 101, 102
- Acorus, 155, 159, 207
- Adder’s Tongue, 93, 95, 158, 207
- Adonis, 341
- Ægopodium Podagraria, 53, 374
- Affodilly, 458
- African Marigold, 198
- Agaric, 56
- Agnus Castus, 100, 106, 159, 208
- Agrimony, 104, 159, 161, 208, 328
- Air-bell, 358
- Aish-weed, 374
- Aj’amoda, 372
- Albespyne, 45, 218, 360
- Albranke, 96
- Alder, 24, 92, 209
- Alecrim, 526
- Alehoof, 391
- Alexandrian Laurel, 263
- Alisma, 236
- Alisson, 212
- Alkanet, 255
- Aller, 209
- Allgood, 355
- All-heal, 162, 442, 538
- Almond, 43, 181, 210
- Aloe, 158, 191, 211
- Alyssum, 212
- Amaracus, 27
- Amaranth, 56, 58, 194, 212
- Ambrose, 213
- Ambrosia, 213
- Amellus, 43, 213
- Ameos, 376
- Amorphophallus, 214
- Amrita, 213
- Amyris, 238
- Anagallis, 367
- Andhas, 214
- Andromeda, 214
- Anemone, 37, 70, 108, 193, 198, 214
- Angelica, 162, 216
- Angelica Archangelica, 227
- Anise, 158
- Antchar, 87
- Anthyllis, 217
- Antirrhinum, 95, 158
- Apamarga, 206
- Apium risus, 90
- Apple, 16, 24, 44, 60, 113, 116, 167, 199, 217, et seq.
- Apple of Sodom, 125, 225
- Apple of Jerusalem, 237
- Apricot, 225
- Aquapura, 88
- Aralda, 345
- Arbol de Leche, 298
- Arbor Vitæ, 43, 60, 191, 226
- Arbutus, 226
- Archangel, 54, 227
- Areca, 227
- Argentina, 109
- Aristolochia, 227
- Arjunî, 214
- Arka, 228
- Aronswurzel, 228
- Artemisia, 113, 228
- Arum, 90, 95, 228
- Arundhati, 228
- Asclepias acida, 106
- Ash, 6, 24, 47, 62, 96, 103, 116, 126, 159, 231
- Ashur, 256
- Asoka, 5, 22, 107, 229
- Asparagus, 158
- Aspen, 47, 49, 50, 229, 503
- Asphodel, 181, 189, 230
- Ass-bane, 87
- Ass-Parsley, 145
- Ass’s Foot, 145
- Aster, 231
- Asvattha, 5, 236
- Auguilanneuf, 441
- Auricula, 236
- Avaka, 236
- Avens, 53, 373
- Azalea, 91, 236

- Baccharis, 236
- Bachelor’s Buttons, 56, 510
- Bacia-Nicola, 246
- Baharas, 111
- Balbaja, 237
- Baldmoney, 237, 350, 550
- Balis, 237
- Balm, 44, 123, 124, 237
- Balm of Gilead, 238
- Balsam, 207, 237
- Balsam Apple, 237
- Bamboo, 36, 239
- Banana, 14, 15, 179, 240
- Baneberry, 53
- Bank-cress, 327
- Banyan, 16, 240
- Baobab, 23, 242
- Barberry, 46, 243
- Barley, 138, 168, 243
- Barnacle-tree, 118
- Barometz, 121, 243
- Bärwurzel, 96
- Basil, 22, 195, 244
- Basilek, 278
- Basilica, 51
- Bauhinia, 247
- Bawm, 238
- Bay, 24, 37, 60, 110, 111, 199
- Beans, 41, 158, 159, 168, 195, 200, 247
- Bear-wort, 550
- Bear’s Breech, 206
- Bear’s Ear, 158
- Bear’s Garlic, 349
- Bech, 451
- Bedstraw, 41, 249
- Beech, 24, 38, 111, 249
- Beet, 158
- Beh, 369
- Belinuncia, 250
- Bella Giulia, 514
- Bell-flowers, 266
- Bel-tree, 250
- Belt of St. John, 52
- Betel, 251
- Betony, 95, 161, 251
- Bignonia, 252
- Bilberry, 252, 585
- Bindweed, 158
- Birch, 31, 51, 60, 191, 252
- Birk, 255
- Bishop’s Leaves, 252
- Bishop’s Weed, 376
- Bishop’s Wort, 398
- Bittersweet, 159, 546
- Bitter Vetch, 255
- Blackberry, 83, 200, 258
- Black-thorn, 113
- Bladder-wort, 158
- Blaeberry, 252, 585
- Blasting-root, 551
- Blessed Herb, 54, 373
- Blitz-mehl, 288
- Blood-drops of Christ, 48
- Blood-root, 155
- Bloody Men’s Fingers, 228
- Blue-bell, 255
- Blue-bottle, 277
- Bluet, 278
- Blutströpfchen, 341
- Bohdda Tharanat, 268
- Bois béni, 194
- Bombax, 159, 192
- Borage, 158, 255
- Borgie-weed, 88
- Boriza, 126
- Bo-tree, 22, 491, 492
- Botrys, 158
- Box, 46, 58, 59, 60, 194, 197, 256
- Boxthorn, 46
- Bracken Fern, 179, 257
- Bramble, 46, 258
- Brank-ursine, 46, 206
- Brassica, 158
- Breakstone, 156
- Briony, 156, 159, 261
- Britalzar Ægyptiaca, 157
- Brompton Stock, 553
- Broom, 58, 95, 104, 159, 200, 260
- Brown John or Jolly, 317
- Brown-wort, 156
- Buckrams, 349
- Buck-thorn, 46, 261, 564
- Bugloss, 261
- Bullock’s Eye, 382
- Bullock’s Lung-wort, 155, 449
- Bull’s Blood, 380
- Bulrush, 92, 262, 512
- Burdock, 262
- Buriti, 263
- Burnet, 263
- Burst-wort, 156
- Bussorah Gall-nut, 225
- Butea frondosa, 5
- Butcher’s Broom, 263
- Buttercup, 510

- Cabbage, 60, 68, 170, 174, 264
- Cactus, 265
- Calf’s Snout, 217
- Calla Æthiopica, 228
- Call-me-to-you, 484
- Camellia, 266
- Campanula, 40, 54, 266
- Camphor, 173, 267
- Campion, 56
- Candelaria, 449
- Candelabrum ingens, 52, 423
- Candie Mustard, 267
- Candleweek-flower, 449
- Candy-tuft, 267
- Canker-weed, 179
- Canna, 268
- Canterbury Bells, 54, 156, 267, 268
- Capillus Veneris, 424
- Caprifolium, 379
- Cardamine, 268
- Cardamom, 91
- Cardinal-flower, 269
- Cardon, 170
- Care, 530
- Care-tree, 102
- Carline Thistle, 269
- Carnation, 44, 198, 269
- Carob, 49, 270
- Carpenter’s Herb, 156
- Carrion-flower, 88
- Carrot, 108, 270
- Case-weed, 545
- Cashew, 46, 271
- Cassava, 271
- Cassia, 196, 271
- Cassolette, 514
- Cast-me-down, 409
- Casuarina, 191
- Catch-fly, 272
- Cat Mint or Nep, 272
- Cat’s Eye, 549
- Cat’s Foot, 391
- Cat’s Tail, 512, 581
- Cedar, 17, 23, 46, 47, 60, 192, 196, 272
- Celandine, 95, 100, 143, 155, 276
- Centaury, 277
- Centinode, 399
- Centocchio, 108
- Cerealis, 572
- Cereus, 278
- Certagon, 86, 109
- Ceterach, 159
- Châbairje, 263
- Cha-Hwa, 266
- Chamelæa, 278
- Chamomile, 159, 198, 278
- Champak, 107, 193, 279
- Chenomychon, 111, 144
- Chervil, 95
- Cherry, 41, 44, 137, 279
- Chesnut, 280
- Chèvrefeuille, 379
- Chickweed, 145, 159
- Chicory, 325
- Chinchona, 282
- Chives, 159
- Chohobba, 281
- Choke Pear, 281
- Chora, 142
- Christmas, 377
- Christmas Rose, 368
- Christ-dorn, 46, 377
- Christ-wurzel, 44
- Christ’s Blood drops, 375
- Christ’s Herb, 281
- Christ’s Ladder, 281
- Christ’s Palm, 281
- Christ’s Thorn, 46, 281
- Chrysanthemum, 37, 56, 91, 282
- Cinnamon, 27, 95, 283
- Cinquefoil, 159, 284
- Circeium, 110
- Cistus, 284
- Citron, 284
- Clappedepouch, 285
- Clavis Diaboli, 85
- Clear-eye, 156
- Clematis, 286
- Close Sciences, 514
- Clot-bur, 263
- Cloth of Gold, 542
- Clove, 286
- Clove Gilliflower, 269
- Clover, 181, 287, 288, 379
- Clover Four-leaved, 71, 110, 159, 287
- Club Moss, 288
- Cock’s Comb, 145, 213
- Cock’s Head, 145
- Cock’s Foot, 145
- Cocoa-nut Palm, 289
- Cockle, 290
- Cœlifolium, 341
- Coffee, 290
- Cohobba, 88
- Colchicum, 290
- Colewort, 170, 264
- Coltsfoot, 291
- Columbine, 291, 575
- Comfrey, 297
- Concordia, 109, 291
- Conjugalis Herba, 291
- Convolvulus, 37
- Coriander, 99, 291
- Corn, 16, 292
- Corn Feverfew, 91
- Corn Flag, 352
- Corn Flower, 158, 277, 295
- Corn Marigold, 282
- Corn Rose, 504
- Cornel, 24, 295
- Coronation, 269
- Costmary, 174, 296
- Costus, 271, 296
- Cotton, 296
- Couronne Impériale, 348
- Coventry-bells, 267
- Cows-and-Calves, 228
- Cowslip, 30, 54, 70, 297
- Cowslip of Jerusalem, 297
- Cow-tree, 297
- Cranberry, 298
- Cranesbill, 145, 298
- Cress, 158, 298
- Crocus, 27, 156, 158, 299
- Cross-flower, 58, 375, 437
- Cross wort, 375
- Cross of Malta, 423
- Crow Bells, 145
- Crow Berry, 145
- Crow Flowers, 184, 510
- Crow Foot, 145, 510
- Crow Garlic, 145
- Crow Leeks, 145
- Crow Needles, 145
- Crow Toes, 145
- Crown Imperial, 183
- Cuckoo-buds, 30, 137, 268, 300, 510
- Cuckoo-flower, 95, 137, 268, 300
- Cuckoo Gilliflower, 300
- Cuckoo’s Bread-and-Cheese-tree, 138
- Cuckoo’s Bread-and-Meat, 137, 300
- Cuckoo’s Grass, 137, 300
- Cuckoo’s Pint, 228, 300
- Cuckoo’s Pintle, 228, 300
- Cuckoo’s Sorrel, 137
- Cucumber, 300
- Cuddle-me-to-you, 484
- Cudweed, Alpine, 316
- Cumin, 301
- Currant, 159, 301
- Cycory, 170
- Cyclamen, 91, 99, 103, 108, 159, 301
- Cypress, 17, 24, 44, 46, 47, 91, 93, 95, 189, 191, 192, 195, 302
- Czekanka, 326

- Daffadowndilly, 458
- Daffodil, 55, 58, 199, 458
- Daffodilly, 307, 458
- Dahlia, 307
- Daisy, 24, 158, 184, 307
- Damascus Violet, 308
- Damask Violet, 308, 514
- Dame’s Rocket, 514
- Dame’s Violet, 308, 350, 514
- Damouch, 87
- Dandelion, 151, 158, 159, 309
- Dane-weed, 310
- Dane wort, 310
- Dane’s Blood, 310
- Daoun Setan, 459
- Daphne, 310
- Darnel, 356
- Date, 311, 482
- Datura, 90, 565
- Day’s-eye, 308
- Dead Tongue, 312
- Deadman’s Flower, 345
- Deadly Nightshade, 91, 95, 460
- Death’s Herb, 85, 460
- Demetria, 572
- Dent de Lion, 151, 309
- Deodar, 312
- Devil’s Apron, 459
- Devil’s Berry, 85
- Devil’s Bit, 85, 359
- Devil’s Bit Scabious, 85
- Devil’s Butter, 86
- Devil’s Candle, 85
- Devil’s Cherry, 85
- Devil’s Claws, 85
- Devil’s Darning-needles, 85
- Devil’s Droppings, 82
- Devil’s Dung, 84
- Devil’s Dye, 85
- Devil’s Guts, 85
- Devil’s Key, 85
- Devil’s Milk, 86
- Devil’s Snuff-boxes, 86
- Devil’s Tree, 85, 541
- Devil-chaser, 86, 109, 537
- Devil-in-the-Bush, 85
- Dewberry, 355
- Dhak, 313
- Dill, 103, 313, 574
- Discipline des Religieuses, 213
- Discordia, 109
- Distilling-plant, 127
- Dittander, 313
- Dittany, 24, 173, 313
- Dock, 313
- Dodder, 159
- Dodecatheon, 297
- Dog-grass, 24
- Dog’s-mouth, 217
- Doigts de la Vierge, 344
- Donderbloem, 382
- Donnerbesen, 440
- Donnerkraut, 111
- Dracæna, 314
- Dragon’s Blood, 314
- Dragon’s Tears, 314
- Dragon-tree, 23, 314
- Dream Herb, 107
- Dream Tree, 324
- Dryas, 314
- Duckweed, 145
- Durian, 314
- Durva, 315
- Dwale-berry, 85
- Dwarf Bay, 310
- Dwarf Elder, 310
- Dyer’s Alkanet, 91

- Earth-Apple, 279
- Earth-Nut, 159
- Eberwurzel, 96
- Ebony, 315
- Edelweiss, 58, 316
- Egg-plant, 317
- Eglantine, 45, 317
- Eglatere, 317
- Eisenkraut, 511
- Elder, 47, 49, 80, 87, 92, 103, 110, 318
- Elecampane, 159, 322
- Elfenkraut, 69
- Elfgras, 69
- Elf-grass, 69
- Elfin-plant, 526
- Elichrysum, 323
- Elm, 31, 192, 323
- Enchanter’s Nightshade, 325
- Enchanter’s plant, 574
- Endive, 158, 325
- Epine Noble, 359
- Eragrostis, 327
- Eryngo, 327
- Erysimum, 327
- Erythrina Indica, 213
- Ethiopian Pepper, 91
- Eugenia, 79, 109, 328
- Eupatorium, 328
- Euphorbia, 328
- Euphrasy, 158, 329
- Euphrosynum, 255
- Everlasting-flower, 111, 194, 328
- Ewe, 592
- Ewgh, 592
- Eye of the Star, 380
- Eyebright, 143, 179, 329

- Fair Maids of France, 329
- Fair Maids of February, 54, 329, 546
- Fairy Bath, 70
- Fairy Butter, 70
- Fairy Cap, 70, 344
- Fairy Cup, 69
- Fairy Fire, 70
- Fairy Flax, 70
- Fairy Herb, 70
- Fairy Rings, 68, 356
- Fairy Steeds, 68
- Fairies’ Horse, 92
- Feaberry, 355
- Feldwode, 94, 329, 350
- Fennel, 51, 60, 158, 162, 329
- Fennel, flower, 398
- Fenugreek, 27, 159
- Fern, 50, 53, 68, 95, 157, 159, 330
- Fern of God, 179
- Fern, Maidenhair, 424
- Fever-few, 282
- Ficus Indica, 240
- Ficus Religiosa, 490
- Fig, 14, 15, 49, 62, 93, 95, 159, 334
- Fig-wort, 156
- Filbert, 337
- Filius ante Patrem, 300
- Fingerhut, 344
- Fior di morto, 195
- Fir, 24, 60, 65, 158, 195, 337
- Five-finger Grass, 356
- Flame-tree, 339
- Flamy, 484
- Flax, 51, 52, 158, 339
- Fleabane, 53, 179, 340
- Fleawort, 91
- Fleur-de-Luce or Lys, 341, 387
- Flor de las cinco llagas, 48, 488
- Flor de Pesadilla, 93
- Floramor, 213
- Flos Adonis, 341
- Flower of Constantinople, 423
- Flower of Bristow, 423
- Flower of St. John, 52
- Flower Gentle, 213
- Flower Velure, 213
- Flower de Luce, 341, 388, 556
- Flowers of Heaven, 341
- Forget-me-not, 156, 342, 484, 549
- Forglemm mig icke, 342
- Foxglove, 70, 344
- Frangipanni, 345
- Frankincense, 27, 345
- Fraxinella, 347
- Freyja’s Hair, 445
- Friar’s Cowl, 228
- Frigg’s Grass, 479
- Fritillary, 347
- Frog Bit, 158
- Fuga Dæmonum, 103, 110, 368, 536
- Fumitory, 348
- Furrs, 356
- Furze, 356
- Furze-bush, 356

- Gang-flower, 58, 348, 437
- Gants de Notre Dame, 344
- Galingale, 159
- Gall-Apple, 95, 225
- Garlic, 23, 110, 154, 159, 349
- Gelotophyllis, 90
- Genêt, 260
- Gentian, 158, 350
- Gentiana amarella, 96
- Geranium, 24, 158, 159
- Gethsemane, 228, 375, 479
- Gill-by-the-Ground, 390
- Gilliflower, 198, 269, 350
- Gilliflower, Clove, 269, 350
- Gilliflower, Marsh, 350
- Gilliflower, Queen’s, 350, 514
- Gilliflower, Rogue’s, 350, 514
- Gilliflower, Stock, 350, 553
- Gilliflower, Wall, 350
- Gilliflower, Water, 350
- Gilliflower, Winter, 514, 546
- Gilofre, 269, 350
- Ginger, 159
- Ginger grass, 551
- Ginseng, 351
- Gipsy-plant, 286
- Giroflée, 350, 553
- Gith, 290
- Gladiolus, 352
- Glastonbury-thorn, 62, 352
- Globe Amaranth, 213
- Globe Flower, 39, 353
- Goat’s Beard, 158, 354
- Goat’s Joy, 372
- Goat’s Rue, 144
- Goblin Gloves, 70, 345
- God’s Floure, 323
- Godeseie, 156
- Gold, 432
- Gold Cup, 510
- Gold Knob, 510
- Gold of Pleasure, 354
- Golden Flower, 323
- Golden Flower Gentle, 354
- Golden Herb, 111, 542
- Golden Maidenhair, 354
- Golden Mothwort, 323
- Golden Rod, 113, 354
- Goldilocks, 354
- Golding, 454
- Goldy Flower, 373
- Golubetz, 354
- Good Henry, or Good King Harry, 355
- Good-night, 387
- Gool-achin, 355
- Gooseberry, 355
- Goose-grass, 144
- Goose Tansy, 144
- Gopher, 305
- Gorse, 356
- Gory Dew, 356
- Goss, 356
- Go-to-bed-at-noon, 354
- Goules or Goulan, 432
- Gout-wort, 374
- Gowan, 353, 354
- Grace of God, 55
- Grapes, 16, 169, 355
- Grapes of St. John, 52
- Grass, 68, 356
- Grass of Parnassus, 158
- Great Bur, 263
- Great Dragon, 155
- Great Herb, 70
- Great Maple, 559
- Grim the Collier, 359
- Grip-grass, 356
- Ground-heele, 357
- Ground Ivy, 95, 104, 159, 390
- Groundsel, 43, 357
- Guabana or Guarabana, 358
- Guelder-Rose, 59, 358
- Guinea Hen, 145
- Gyllofer, 269, 350

- Hæmanthus, 358
- Hag Taper, 94, 358
- Hair-bell, 358
- Half-Moon, 173
- Hallelujah, 358
- Hard-head, 381
- Harebell, 53, 55, 67, 358, 385
- Hart’s Tongue, 158
- Hartis Ease, 582
- Hassocks, 356
- Hawkweed, 144, 159, 359
- Hawthorn, 58, 93, 195, 359, 563
- Haymaids, 362, 390
- Hazel, 103, 110, 114, 362
- Heart’s-ease, 434
- Heath, 56
- Heath Bell, 267
- Heather, 365
- Hedge Maids, 362
- Hedge Mustard, 327
- Hedge Taper, 358
- Hederich, 509
- Heermännchen, 279
- Heide, 365
- Helenium, 322, 365
- Heliotrope, 23, 24, 343, 365
- Hellebore, 56, 158, 159, 368
- Helmet-flower, 369
- Hemlock, 53, 93, 95, 312, 369
- Hemp, 22, 52, 105, 370
- Hen Bit, 145
- Hen Foot, 145
- Henbane, 93, 95, 372
- Henna, 24, 373
- Henne-bush, 373
- Hepatica, 59, 158
- Herb Bennett, 373
- Herb Carpenter, 374
- Herb Christopher, 56, 374
- Herb Gerarde, 374
- Herb Margaret, 54, 374
- Herb Paris, 103, 375
- Herb Peter, 54, 375
- Herb Robert, 54, 375
- Herb St. Barbara, 375
- Herb Trinity, 55, 376, 484
- Herb Twopence, 376
- Herb William, 376
- Herb of Forgetfulness, 451
- Herb of Mary, 42
- Herb of Oblivion, 110
- Herb of St. John, 51, 52
- Herb of the Blessed Mary, 42
- Herb of the Cross, 47, 374
- Herb of the Devil, 84
- Herb of the Madonna, 42
- Herb of the Witches, 84
- Herba benedicta, 54, 369, 373
- Herba bona and sancta, 439
- Herba Britannica, 111
- Herba Clavorum, 113
- Herba Clytiæ, 366
- Herba Impia, 329
- Herba Sanctæ Mariæ, 440
- Herbe au Chantre, 327
- Herbe au Dragon, 153
- Herbe aux Ladres, 357
- Herbe d’Amour, 436
- Herbe de Marie Magdalene, 43
- Heron’s Bill, 145
- Hig or High Taper, 358
- Hindberry, 511
- Hirschwursel, 96
- Holly, 44, 46, 56, 60, 101, 110, 376
- Holm Oak, 385
- Holme, 376
- Holy Ghost, 162, 378
- Holy Grass, 58, 356, 378
- Holy Hay, 378, 536
- Holy Herb, 574
- Holy Hock, or Hoke, 55, 378
- Holy Rope, 55, 378
- Holy Seed, 378
- Holy Thistle, 378
- Holy Tree, 60, 378
- Homa, or Haoma, 378
- Honesty, 378
- Honeysuckle, 96, 159, 287, 379
- Hook-weed, 374
- Hop, 380
- Horehound, 380
- Hornbeam, 31
- Hornbeam or Hardbeam, 380
- Horned Poppy, 93, 95, 541
- Horn flower, 228
- Horse Beech, 380
- Horse Chesnut, 380
- Horse Killer, 87
- Horse Knot, 381
- Horse Radish, 381
- Horse Shoe Vetch, 381, 571
- Horse Tail, 24
- Horse Tongue, 158
- Hound’s Tongue, 158, 159, 382
- Houseleek, 111, 382
- Hulver, or Hulfeere, 376
- Hunger-Grass, 179
- Hur Bur, 263
- Hurt-sickle, 278
- Hyacinth, 158, 383
- Hypericum, 51, 158
- Hyssop, 46, 198, 385

- Ilex, 385
- Immortelles, 194, 328
- Impatiens, 237
- Ingudi, 386
- Ipecacuanha, 386
- Ipomœa, 386
- Iris, 24, 43, 158, 159, 387
- Iron-head, 381
- Irrkraut, 333
- Irrwurzel, 498
- Ivy, 24, 30, 59, 388

- Jacinth, 358, 385
- Jack-by-the-Hedge, 327
- Jacob’s Ladder, 391, 547
- Jambi, 227
- Jamboa, 23
- Jambu, 391
- Jasmine, 39, 107, 159, 193, 391
- Jatropha urens, 87
- Jerusalem Artichoke, 393
- Jerusalem Cowslip, 393
- Jerusalem Cross, 393
- Jerusalem Oak, 393
- Jerusalem Sage, 393
- Jerusalem Star, 393
- Jesuit’s Bark, 282
- Jew’s Ears, 393
- Jew’s Myrtle, 263
- Joan’s Silver Pin, 393
- Job’s Tears, 340, 393
- Johannis-blut, 51
- Johannis-wurzel, 111
- Jonah’s Gourd, 393
- Joseph’s Flower, 354
- Jove’s Flower, 397
- Judas-tree, 50, 92, 394
- Jujube, 395
- Julienne, 514
- July-flower, 553
- Jump-up-and-kiss-me, 484
- Juniper, 25, 41, 44, 91, 101, 110, 158, 181, 195, 395
- Juno’s Rose, 397
- Juno’s Tears, 397, 572
- Jupiter’s Beard, 217, 382, 397
- Jupiter’s Distaff, 398
- Jupiter’s Eye, 382, 397
- Jupiter’s Staff, 398

- Kail, 60, 398
- Kâmalatâ, 386
- Kataka, 398
- Katherine’s Flower, 54, 398
- Kecksies, 370
- Kernel-wort, 399
- Kerzereh, 399
- Ketaki, 399
- Kex, 370
- Key-flower, 112
- Kidda, 271
- Kidney-vetch, 156, 217
- Kidney-wort, 159
- King Cup, 59, 399, 510
- Kiss-me-at-the-garden-gate, 484
- Kiss-me-ere-I-rise, 484
- Kiss-me-twice-before-I-rise, 398
- Knee-holly, 263
- Knee- holme, 263
- Knee- hulver, 263
- Knight’s Spurs, 404
- Knot-grass, 399
- Kovidara, 400
- Kuddum, 400
- Kunalnitza, 51
- Kusa-grass, 22, 400
- Kushtha, 296, 401

- Ladder to Heaven, 547
- Lad’s Love, 549
- Lady Laurel, 310
- Lady’s Bedstraw, 41, 249
- Lady’s Bower, 402
- Lady’s Bunch of Keys, 42
- Lady’s Comb, 42
- Lady’s Cushion, 42
- Lady’s Fingers, 42, 217
- Lady’s Garters, 402
- Lady’s Hair, 42
- Lady’s Laces, 402
- Lady’s Looking-glass, 42
- Lady’s Mantle, 42, 43
- Lady’s Nightcap, 402
- Lady’s Seal, 42, 402, 547
- Lady’s Slipper, 42
- Lady’s Smock, 42, 55, 268
- Lady’s Tears, 43
- Lady’s Thimble, 402
- Lady’s Thistle, 41, 158
- Lady’s Tresses, 42, 402
- Lamb Toe, 217
- Lamium album, 227
- Lamium Galeobdolon, 227
- Lâng Fredags Ris, 44
- Larch, 93, 95, 403
- Lark’s Claw, 145, 404
- Lark’s Heel, 145, 404
- Lark’s Spur, 145, 404
- Lark’s Toe, 145, 404
- Larmes de Ste. Marie, 43
- Laurel, 23, 24, 32, 60, 75, 106, 404
- Laurustine, 56
- Lavender, 59, 91, 409
- Leek, 409
- Lentil, 23, 411
- Lent Lily, 411
- Leopard’s Bane, 159
- Leopard’s Foot, 510
- Le’pan-tree, 79
- Lettuce, 157, 158, 195, 411
- Libbard’s Bane, 93
- Life Everlasting, 416
- Lilac, 59
- Lily, 24, 27, 43, 51, 55, 59, 412
- Lily of the May, 59
- Lily of the Valley, 43, 53, 59, 101, 158, 199, 414
- Lime, 158, 414
- Linden, 415
- Ling, 365
- Lion-foot Cudweed, 91
- Lion’s Snap, 217
- Live-for-ever, 328
- Live-in-Idleness, 484
- Live-long, 111, 319, 328, 416
- Liver-wort, 155, 158, 208
- Llysan gwaed gwyr, 310
- Loco, 88
- Locust, 205
- London Pride, 416, 541
- London Rocket, 514
- Long Purples, 184
- Loosestrife, 376, 417
- Lords-and-Ladies, 228
- Lotos, 110, 417
- Lotus, 23, 26, 37, 107, 158, 180, 418
- Love, 422
- Loveage, 422
- Love-and-Idle, 422, 484
- Love Apple, 422, 546
- Love Grass, 327
- Love-in-a-Mist, 422
- Love-in-Idleness, 422, 484
- Love-lies-bleeding, 213, 422
- Loveman, 422
- Luckan Gowan, 353
- Luck-flower, 112, 343, 422
- Lucky Hands, 333
- Lunary, 378
- Lunary, Lesser, 444
- Lungwort, 155, 158, 297
- Lupine, 159, 422
- Lusmore, 70, 344
- Lychnis, 55, 56, 423
- Lycoris, 193
- Lythrum Silicaria, 96

- Mad Apple, 317, 546
- Maghet, 174, 424
- Magician’s Cypress, 541
- Magnolia, 87, 423
- Mahwah, 423
- Mai-blume, 31
- Maidenhair, 24, 91, 104, 108, 424
- Maids, or Maithes, 424
- Main de Gloire, 428
- Main de Ste. Marie, 43
- Mallow, 158, 425
- Malobathrum, 155
- Malus Henricus, 355
- Manchineel, 87, 425
- Mandrake, 91, 93, 95, 108, 110, 113, 157, 425
- Mango, 107, 428
- Manna, 429
- Maple, 429
- Maracot, 181
- Marguerite, 174, 424, 431
- Marien-blumen, 42
- Marien-gras, 42
- Marien Magdalenen Kraut and Apfel, 43
- Marigold, 39, 56, 367, 432
- Máríu Stakkr, 42
- Marjoram, 158, 433
- Marsh Mallow, 433
- Marsh Marigold, 434
- Martagon, 113
- Mary-buds, 42
- Mary Gowles, 432
- Mastic, 434
- Mather, 174, 424
- Matza Franca, 225
- Maudeline-wort, 174, 424
- Mauritia, 435
- May, 29, 31, 58, 360, 435
- Maydweed, 174, 424, 435
- May-flower, 31, 435
- May Lily, 31
- May-weed, 174, 424, 435
- Meadow-cress, 269
- Meadow Pink, or Campion, 509
- Mead Parsley, 541
- Medusa Head, 328
- Meisterwurzel, 96
- Melon, 156, 159, 436
- Menthe de Notre Dame, 42
- Mercury, 162, 355
- Mercury’s Blood, 572
- Mew, 237, 550
- Mezereon, 310
- Michaelmas Daisy, 56
- Midsummer Daisy, 56
- Midsummer Men, 479
- Mignonette, 198, 436
- Milium solis, 157
- Milk Thistle, 437, 562
- Milk-wort, 348, 437
- Millefoil, 95
- Millet, 437
- Miltwaste, 145
- Mimosa, 23, 438
- Mimusops, 439
- Mindi, 373
- Mint, 91, 439
- Mistletoe, 47, 95, 101, 102, 103, 107, 113, 141, 440
- Mistress of Night, 568
- Mock-plane, 559
- Moly, 442
- Mondveilchen, 172
- Money-flower, 378
- Money-wort, 376
- Monkey Cactus, 278
- Monkshood, 24, 93, 443
- Moo-le-hua, 392
- Moon-Daisy, 174
- Moon’s Beloved, 173
- Moon’s Flower, 173
- Moon’s Laughter, 173
- Moonwort, 93, 95, 113, 378, 444, 571
- Moriche Palm, 23, 435
- Moss, 44, 60, 445
- Moss Rose, 52, 446
- Mother-wort, 158, 446
- Mountain Ash, 47, 192, 529
- Mouse-ear, 113, 343, 447
- Mouse-ear Scorpion-Grass, 343
- Mugwort, 173, 449
- Mulberry, 22, 447
- Mullein, 94, 449
- Mullein, Petty, 297
- Musa sapientum, 5
- Mushroom, 451
- Musk, 158
- Musk Mallow, 91
- Mustard, 452
- Myrobalan, 453
- Myrtle, 24, 37, 39, 60, 181, 193, 194, 454
- Myrrh, 27, 196, 453

- Nabkha, 46, 205
- Napellus, 157
- Narcissus, 25, 158, 457
- Nard, 550
- Nasturtium, 158, 159, 459
- Navel-wort, 108, 159
- Neem, 459
- Nelumbo, 23, 459
- Nettle, 184, 459
- Nigella, 158
- Nightshade, 91, 93, 157, 460
- Nimbu, 461
- Nipa Palm, 461
- Nipple-wort, 156
- Nit-grass, 179
- Nitraria tridentata, 87
- Noble Liver-wort, 158
- Noli me tangere, 237
- None-so-pretty, 541
- Nonsuch, 423, 545
- Nontiscordar di me, 343
- Noon-day-flower, 354
- Nopal-plant, 266
- Nosebleed, 589
- Nutmeg, 136, 461
- Nuts, 60, 157, 199, 461
- Nyctegredum, 111
- Nyctilopa, 111
- Nymphæa, 463

- Oak, 21, 25, 46, 59, 61, 65, 77, 107, 190, 192, 463
- Oaks, Gospel, 61
- Oaks, Celebrated, 61
- Oaks, Cross, 61
- Oats, 472
- Oculus Christi, 156
- Œil de Christ, 231
- Officinalis Christi, 534
- Ohelo, 585
- Old Man’s Beard, 286, 398
- Old Man’s Head, 278
- Old Man’s Pepper, 589
- Oleander, 40, 87, 473
- Olibanum, 346
- Olive, 17, 25, 37, 38, 39, 46, 47, 142, 473
- One-berry, 375
- Onion, 23, 476
- Ophiusa, 89
- Ophrys, 159
- Opium, 105
- Orach, 156
- Orange, 39, 193, 195, 477
- Orchis, 24, 99, 478
- Organy, 158
- Origanum, 95, 101, 158
- Orpine, 51, 52, 60, 111, 479
- Osier, 113
- Osmund Fern, 53, 56, 374, 479
- Our Lady’s Bedstraw, 41, 249
- Our Lady’s Bunch of Keys, 42
- Our Lady’s Comb, 42
- Our Lady’s Cushion, 42
- Our Lady’s Fingers, 42
- Our Lady’s Hair, 42
- Our Lady’s Looking-glass, 42
- Our Lady’s Mantle, 42, 143
- Our Lady’s Seal, 42, 547
- Our Lady’s Slipper, 42
- Our Lady’s Smock, 42, 55, 268, 269
- Our Lady’s Tears, 43
- Our Lady’s Thistle, 41, 158
- Our Lady’s Tresses, 42, 402
- Ox-eye Daisy, 52, 282

- Paddock-stool, 82, 567
- Pagod-tree, 242
- Paigle, 297
- Palasa, 5, 480
- Palm, 23, 25, 38, 58, 62, 124, 481
- Palm, Palmyra, 5
- Palma Christi, 109
- Palo de Vaca, 297
- Panacæa, 157
- Pansy, 70, 483
- Paporot, 50, 112
- Papyrus, 484
- Paralytica, 236
- Parsley, 38, 157, 198, 485
- Parsnip, 159
- Pasque-flower, 58, 486
- Passion-flower, 48, 56, 181, 486
- Passion-flower, English, 228
- Paulownia, 488
- Pavetta Indica, 488
- Pawnce, 483
- Pea, 168, 488
- Peach, 23, 99, 490
- Pear, 116, 490
- Peascod, 489
- Peci, 110
- Peepul, 5, 14, 22, 79, 490
- Pellitory, 100
- Pennyroyal, 95, 492
- Peony, 53, 100, 110, 141, 158, 198, 492
- Pepper-wort, 313
- Periwinkle, 390, 494
- Persephonion, 572
- Persicaria, 158
- Pestilence-weed, 494
- Pettigree, 263
- Phallus impudicus, 88
- Pharaoh’s Fig, 62, 123
- Pharisees’ Rings, 357
- Pheasant’s Eye, 145
- Phlox, 95
- Phu, 572
- Phytolacca, 494
- Pickpocket, 545
- Pigeon’s-grass, 575
- Pile-wort, 179, 277
- Pimpernel, 103, 494
- Pimpinella, 263
- Pine, 24, 25, 36, 38, 46, 60, 495
- Pink, 25, 194, 497
- Pink-of-my-John, 484
- Pipe-tree, 561
- Pixie Stool, 82, 567
- Pizzu’ngurdu, 107
- Plakun, 50, 112
- Plane, 497
- Plantain, 79, 159, 498
- Ploughman’s Spikenard, 237
- Plum, 499
- Poa, 142
- Pook Needle, 82
- Poley, 91
- Polyanthus, 194
- Polygala, 157
- Polypodium dichotomon, 36
- Polypodium vulgare, 41, 499
- Polypody, 159
- Pomegranate, 16, 24, 25, 158, 499
- Pommier de Marie Magdaleine, 43
- Pompion, 170
- Pompon, 282
- Pomum mirabile, 257
- Poor Man’s Parmacetty, 286, 545
- Poor Man’s Pepper, 313
- Poor Man’s Treacle, 349
- Poplar, 25, 116, 502
- Poppy, 25, 93, 108, 157, 158, 159, 504
- Portulaca, 158
- Potato, 506
- Prattling Parnell, 541
- Prickly Pear, 266
- Priest’s Pintle, 228
- Prikrit, 109
- Primrose, 506
- Prince’s Feathers, 213
- Procession Flower, 58, 348, 437
- Provinsa, 107, 109
- Prunella, 158
- Pteris Esculenta, 507
- Puckfist, 82, 567
- Puck’s Stool, 82, 567
- Puff-ball, 82
- Pulsatilla, 507
- Pumpkin, 22, 507
- Purslane, 108, 508

- Queen’s Stock Gilliflower, 553
- Quick-beam, 508
- Quicken-tree, 508, 529
- Quince, 99, 508

- Radish, 159, 509
- Ragged Robin, 509
- Raging Apple, 317
- Rag-wort, or Rag-weed, 92, 509
- Ram of Libya, 281
- Ramp, 228
- Rampion, 510
- Ramsies, or Ramsins, 349
- Ranunculus, 55, 158, 159, 510
- Raspberry, 511
- Rasrivtrava, 112, 511
- Rattle Weed, 88
- Rayhan, 246
- Reed, 511
- Reed Mace, 46, 512
- Reine Marguerite, 231
- Rest Harrow, 571
- Rhamnus, 25, 512
- Rhubarb, 158
- Rice, 513
- Robin Redbreast’s Cushion, 100
- Rocket, 25, 514
- Rodden, 529
- Rogation Flower, 58, 348, 437
- Roodselken, 48
- Root of the Holy Ghost, 55
- Rosa Mariæ, 41
- Rose, 24, 25, 43, 54, 59, 138, 158, 181, 183, 193, 195, 199, 515
- Rose Apple, 23
- Rose de Noel, 44
- Rose of Jericho, 44, 528
- Rose of Sharon, 528
- Rose-bay, 87
- Rose-briar, 46, 49, 524
- Rosemary, 60, 196, 197, 198, 525
- Rowan, 23, 102, 529
- Ruddes, 432
- Rudrâksha, 531
- Rue, 104, 531
- Rush, 44, 57, 532
- Rye, 534

- Saber, 181, 211
- Sacred Bean, 459
- Sad Tree, 534
- Saffron, 27, 91, 299
- Sage, 158, 161, 534
- Sage of Jerusalem, 297
- Sage of Bethlehem, 297
- Sainfoin, 43, 535
- St. Andrew’s Cross, 56
- St. Anne’s Needlework, 54
- St. Anthony’s Nut, 53, 536
- St. Anthony’s Turnip, 511, 536
- St. Barbara’s Hedge-mustard, 327
- St. Barbara’s Cress, 54, 375, 536
- St. Barnaby’s Thistle, 54, 536
- St. Francis’ Thorn, 53
- St. George’s Tree, 53
- St. George’s Violet, 53
- St. James’s Wort, 53, 286, 510, 536, 545
- St. John’s Wort, 51, 52, 56, 60, 95, 103, 536
- St. John’s Hands, 333
- St. Katharine’s Wheel, 536
- St. Patrick’s Cabbage, 54, 536, 541
- St. Paul’s Betony, 54
- St. Peter’s Wort, 54, 536
- St. Thomas’s Onion, 476
- St. Winifred’s Hair, 55
- Sallow, 58, 109, 538
- Salsafy, 367
- Sal-tree, 538
- Salutaris, 173
- Sambac, 392
- Sami, 113, 205, 236, 539
- Samolus, 539
- Samphire, 54, 539
- Sanct Benedicten-Kraut, 374
- Sandal, 539
- Sanguis hominis, 52
- Sanicle, 158, 159, 540
- Sanicula Alpina, 236
- Sardea, 540
- Satyrion, 108, 159, 540
- Savell, 170
- Savin, 95, 157, 541
- Savory, 541
- Saxifrage, 157, 541
- Scabious, 158, 159
- Schlüsselblume, 112
- Scorpion-grass, 156, 342
- Scotch Thistle, 562
- Screw Moss, 56
- Scurvy-grass, 160
- Sea Fennel, 549
- Sea Holly, 327
- Sea Moss, 158
- Sea Poppy, 541
- Seal-wort, 547
- Seebright, 156
- Seed of Horus, 380
- Seed of the Sun, 226
- Selago, 111, 137, 542
- Selenite, 173
- Self-heal, 374
- Selja, 538
- Sempervivum, 158
- Sengreene, 382
- Senna, 158, 271
- Sensitive-plant, 543
- Serpentaria, 376
- Service-tree, 543
- Sesame, 91, 112, 544
- Setwall, or Setewale, 572
- Sferracavallo, 113, 382, 551, 571
- Shamrock, 180, 544
- She-Devil, 85
- Shepherd’s Purse, 159, 545
- Shittah Tree, 60
- Sholoa, 545
- Sickle-wood, 374
- Sidj, 328
- Silver Bush, 217
- Silver Plate, 378
- Silver Weed, 109
- Simpler’s Joy, 574
- Singer’s Plant, 327
- Sistra, 237
- Skull-cap-flower, 369
- Slayer of Monsters, 173, 349
- Sleep-Apple, 93
- Sleep-Thorn, 93
- Sloe, 200
- Smilax, 91, 157
- Snake’s Bugloss, 581
- Snap Dragon, 217
- Sneeze-wort, 153
- Snowdrop, 43, 54, 56, 546
- Soap-wort, 159
- Solanum, 546
- Solisequus, 367
- Solomon’s Seal, 547
- Solstice, 325
- Sol Terrestris, 537
- Soma, 2, 22, 106, 173, 547
- Sonchus, 157
- Sonnenkraut, 325
- Son-trava, 107
- Sops-in-Wine, 269
- Sorb, 111, 543
- Sorcerer’s Violet, 108
- Sorrel, 549
- Southernwood, 52, 549, 588
- Sow Bread, 301
- Sow Thistle, 44, 549
- Sparages, 170
- Sparrow-wort, 56
- Sparrow Tongue, 145
- Speedwell, 48, 342, 549
- Sperage, 170
- Spignel, 24, 550
- Spikenard, 27, 550
- Spina Christi, 46
- Spleen-wort, 156, 159
- Sponsa Solis, 326
- Sposa di Sole, 434
- Spreng-wurzel, 552
- Spring-wort, 113, 141, 551, 571
- Spurge, 310, 367
- Spurge Laurel, 553
- Spurge Olive, 278, 310
- Squill, 553
- Stachys Sylvatica, 227
- Stapelia, 88
- Star Apple, 298
- Star of Bethlehem, 43, 553
- Star of Jerusalem, 354
- Star of the Earth, 373
- Star-wort, 56, 367
- Starch-wort, 228
- Staunch, 217
- Stepmother, 484
- Sticadove, 409
- Stock, 553
- Stock Gilliflower, 169
- Stonecrop, 111, 554
- Storax, 554
- Stramonium, 106
- Straw, 554
- Strawberry, 41, 158, 556
- Strawberry tree, 226
- Strumea, 501
- Strychnos Tienté, 86
- Succory, 325
- Sugar-cane, 557
- Sunflower, 56, 158, 166, 366, 557
- Supercilium Veneris, 24
- Supyari, 227
- Swallow-herb, 276
- Swallow-wort, 159
- Sweet Basil, 55
- Sweet Calamus, 217
- Sweet Cicely, 55
- Sweet Flag, 207
- Sweet John, 416
- Sweet Margery, 55
- Sweet William, 198
- Swine-Bread, 301
- Sword-Flag, 352
- Sycamore, 558
- Syringa, 559

- Tamarind, 560
- Tamarisk, 49, 192, 560
- Tansy, 101, 561
- Tea, 561
- Tears of Isis, 572
- Teasel, 158
- Té-na-tsa-li, 109
- Terebinth, 61, 346, 561
- Teufelsmilch, 85
- Theomat, 109
- Therionarca, 90
- Thistle, 41, 562
- Thorn, 46, 95, 114, 174, 563
- Thorn Apple, 565
- Three-faces-under-a-hood, 484
- Throat-wort, 156, 267
- Thunder-flower, 382
- Thunderbolt-flower, 544
- Thunderbolt-thorn, 552
- Thunderbolt-wood, 552
- Thya, 226
- Thyme, 43, 198, 566
- Tirlic, 50
- Tithymallus, 157, 158, 367
- Tittle-my-fancy, 484
- Toad-Flax, 156
- Toad’s Mouth, 217
- Toadstool, 82, 566
- Tobacco, 567
- Tooth-cress, 179
- Toothed Moss, 158
- Toothed Violet, 158
- Tormentilla, 159
- Toy-wort, 545
- Treacle Mustard, 159, 162, 568
- Trefoil, 180, 287, 568
- Triacle, 162, 568
- Triphera, 157
- Tripolium, 157
- Troll-flower, 82, 353, 568
- True-love, 375
- Trumpet-flower, 252
- Tuberose, 568
- Tulasi, 109, 244, 568
- Tulip, 56, 569
- Tunhoof, 391
- Turmeric, 79
- Turnesole, 198, 366
- Turnip, 156, 159, 571
- Tussack-grass, 356
- Tutsan, 52, 156, 538, 571
- Twopenny-grass, 376
- Typha, 262
- Tziganka, 286

- Ugh, 592
- Unser Frauen Milch, 41
- Unser Frauen Müntz, 42
- Unser Frauen Rauch, 42
- Unshoe-the-Horse, 571
- Upas, 86, 571
- Upas Antjar, 86, 571

- Vakula-tree, 79
- Valerian, 53, 108, 109, 158, 572
- Velvet-flower, 213
- Venus’ Comb, 42
- Venus’ Looking-glass, 267
- Verfluchte Jungfer, 325
- Vergiss mein nicht, 342
- Veronica, 550
- Vervain, 39, 47, 51, 95, 103, 113, 572
- Vibro, 111
- Vine, 25, 112, 158, 575
- Violet, 158, 578
- Violette de Damas, 308
- Violette des Sorciers, 108
- Viper’s Bugloss, 158, 581
- Viper’s Grass, 581
- Virgin’s Bower, 43, 55, 286
- Virgin’s Pinch, 55

- Wake Robin, 228
- Wak Wak, 117
- Wallflower, 582
- Wall Gilliflower, 582
- Wall Stock Gillofer, 582
- Walnut, 63, 158, 192, 582
- Walpurgiskraut, 333
- Wart-wort, 366
- Water Gladiole, 533
- Water Lily, 463
- Waybread, 498
- Wegeleuchte, 325
- Wegewarte, 325
- Wheat, 52, 168
- Whin, 356
- White-root, 547
- White Satin-flower, 378
- White Thorn, 32, 44, 138, 563
- Whortleberry, 585
- Widow’s Flower, 585
- Widow-wail, 278
- Wiggin, 530
- William Tell’s Tree, 592
- Willow, 25, 157, 197, 586
- Wind-flower, 70, 215
- Wine-berry, 355
- Winter Cherry, 158
- Wishing Thorn, 114
- Witchen or Wicken, 508, 529
- Witch-Hazel, 380
- Witches’ Butter, 86
- Witches’ Bells, 345
- Witches’ Gowan, 353
- Witches’ Herb, 84
- Witches’ Thimble, 359
- Wolf’s Bane, 53, 91, 93, 159, 443
- Woodbine, 96, 379
- Woodroof, 43, 59
- Wood Sorrel, 48, 545
- Wormwood, 51, 52, 378, 578
- Wound-wort, 217
- Wound-weed, 354

- Yarrow, 102, 588
- Yellow Rattle, 56
- Yeugh, 592
- Yew, 58, 62, 95, 191, 195, 197, 589
- Yggdrasill, 592
- Yoke-Elm, 380

- Zaclon, 112
- Zauberwurzel, 110
- Zedoaria, 572

## Transcriber’s Notes.

The Encyclopædia cross-references “Concordia” and “Key-flower”: these plants do not have separate entries, and the references have been left unlinked.

The index entry “Planetary Government of Plants” was printed without a page number. A duplicate index entry for “Bech” has been removed.

In the original book, repeated text in some tables and the index was indicated by dittos; here, repeated text is copied in full.

Variant spelling and inconsistent hyphenation have been preserved as printed; simple typographical errors such as doubled words and letters have been corrected. Punctuation has been standardised, and unbalanced quotation marks and parentheses have been repaired.

The following changes have also been made (the changed text follows the original):

- Page 11:
  that is mortal ne dare not enter
  that is mortal he dare not enter
- Page 19:
  is not suprising
  is not surprising
- Page 38:
  arlands, wreaths, and festoons of flowers
  garlands, wreaths, and festoons of flowers
- Page 70:
  the Fairies of Skakspeare
  the Fairies of Shakspeare
- Page 82:
  surprislng to find
  surprising to find
- Page 82:
  the Globe-flower (Trollins)
  the Globe-flower (Trollius)
- Page 83:
  hecause by some means
  because by some means
- Page 84:
  on accouut of the fœtid odour
  on account of the fœtid odour
- Page 87:
  a vivid descripition
  a vivid description
- Page 104:
  repugant to them
  repugnant to them
- Page 106:
  supposed to be incorporared
  supposed to be incorporated
- Page 115:
  Too boldy usurping
  Too boldly usurping
- Page 116:
  and at muturity
  and at maturity
- Page 148:
  has been misundertood
  has been misunderstood
- Page 161:
  witchcraft an the malignant influence
  witchcraft and the malignant influence
- Page 177:
  The Hindu racs
  The Hindu races
- Page 180:
  tha symbolic flowers
  the symbolic flowers
- Page 180:
  end fruit symbolism
  and fruit symbolism
- Page 194:
  her father Agamenon
  her father Agamemnon
- Page 205:
  ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF PLANTS
  ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF PLANTS
- Page 237:
  slighest touch
  slightest touch
- Page 240:
  with great ccuracy
  with great accuracy
- Page 248:
  lunacy occur that
  lunacy occur than
- Page 257:
  as long as your’re able
  as long as you’re able
- Page 258:
  Devil thows his cloak
  Devil throws his cloak
- Page 270:
  feed on these cods
  feed on these pods
- Page 289:
  as a fomeutation
  as a fomentation
- Page 306:
  It is not surpising
  It is not surprising
- Page 315:
  animal subtances
  animal substances
- Page 333:
  evil sprits
  evil spirits
- Page 342:
  Algæ Gloiocladeœ
  Algæ Gloiocladeæ
- Page 426:
  Shakspeare thus decribes
  Shakspeare thus describes
- Page 459:
  Te shield-like form
  The shield-like form
- Page 497:
  The town of Augburg
  The town of Augsburg
- Page 514:
  carring a basket
  carrying a basket
- Page 526:
  it it called
  it is called
- Page 539:
  near Kucinagara,
  near Kuçinagara,
- Page 552:
  It is highly propable,
  It is highly probable,
- Page 560:
  The ancient Eyptians
  The ancient Egyptians
- Page 560:
  sacrifical ceremony
  sacrificial ceremony
- Page 566:
  Of witches is is said
  Of witches it is said
- Page 605:
  Ipomæa, 386
  Ipomœa, 386

All changes are also noted in the source code: search `<!--TN:`

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