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Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics

Part the Second. (continued 4)

Reading edition

“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.

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