In the "Treacle Bible," 1584, Jeremiah viii., v. 22, this passage is rendered: "Is there not treacle at Gylead?" Venice treacle, or triacle, was a famous antidote in the middle ages to all animal poisons. It was named Theriaca (the Latin word for our present treacle) from the Greek word Therion, a small animal, in allusion to the vipers which were added to the triacle by Andromachus, physician to the emperor Nero.

[41] Tea made of our garden balm, by virtue of the volatile oil, will prove restorative, and will promote perspiration if taken hot on the access of a cold or of influenza; also, if used in like manner, it will help effectively to bring on the delayed monthly flow with women. But an infusion of the plant made with cold water, acts better as a remedy for hysterical headache, and as a general nervine stimulant because the volatile aromatic virtues are not dispelled by heat. Formerly, a spirit of balm, combined with lemon peel, nutmeg, and angelica-root, enjoyed a great reputation as a restorative cordial under the name of Carmelite water. Paracelsus thought so highly of balm that he believed it would completely revivify a man, as primum ens melissoe. The London Dispensatory of 1696 said: "The essence of balm given in Canary wine every morning will renew youth, strengthen the brain, relieve languishing nature, and prevent baldness." "Balm," adds John Evelyn, "is sovereign for the brain, strengthening the memory, and powerfully chasing away melancholy." In France, women bruise the young shoots of balm, and make them into cakes, with eggs, sugar, and rose water, which they give to mothers in childbed as a strengthener.

It is fabled that the Jew Ahasuerus (who refused a cup of water to our Saviour on His way to Golgotha, and was therefore doomed to wander athirst until Christ should come again) on a Whitsuntide evening, asked for a draught of small beer at the door of a Staffordshire cottager who was far advanced in consumption. He got the drink, and out of gratitude advised the sick man to gather in the garden three leaves of Balm, and to put them into a cup of beer. This was to be repeated every fourth day for twelve days, the refilling of the cup to be continued as often as might be wished; then "the [42] disease shall be cured and thy body altered." So saying, the Jew departed and was never seen there again. But the cottager obeyed the injunction, and at the end of the twelve days had become a sound man.



BARBERRY.

The Common Barberry (Berberis), which gives its name to a special order of plants, grows wild as a shrub in our English copses and hedges, particularly about Essex, being so called from Berberin, a pearl oyster, because the leaves are glossy like the inside of an oyster shell. It is remarkable for the light colour of its bark, which is yellow inside, and for its three-forked spines. Provincially it is also termed Pipperidge-bush, from "pepin," a pip, and "rouge," red, as descriptive of its small scarlet juiceless fruit, of which the active chemical principles, as well as of the bark, are "berberin" and "oxyacanthin." The sparingly-produced juice of the berries is cooling and astringent. It was formerly held in high esteem by the Egyptians, when diluted as a drink, in pestilential fevers. The inner, yellow bark, which has been long believed to exercise a medicinal effect on the liver, because of its colour, is a true biliary purgative. An infusion of this bark, made with boiling water, is useful in jaundice from congestive liver, with furred tongue, lowness of spirits, and yellow complexion; also for swollen spleen from malarious exposure. A medicinal tincture (H.) is made of the root-branches and the root-bark, with spirit of wine; and if given three or four times a day in doses of five drops with one tablespoonful of cold water, it will admirably rouse the liver to healthy and more vigorous action. Conversely the tincture when of reduced strength will stay bilious diarrhoea. British farmers dislike the [43] Barberry shrub because, when it grows in cornfields, the wheat near it is blighted, even to the distance of two or three hundred yards. This is because of a special fungus which is common to the Barberry, and being carried by the wind reproduces itself by its spores destructively on the ears of wheat, the AEcidium Berberidis, which generates Puccinia.

Clusius setteth it down as a wonderful secret which he had from a friend, "that if the yellow bark of Barberry be steeped in white wine for three hours, and be afterwards drank, it will purge one very marvellously."

The berries upon old Barberry shrubs are often stoneless, and this is the best fruit for preserving or for making the jelly. They contain malic and citric acids; and it is from these berries that the delicious confitures d'epine vinette, for which Rouen is famous, are commonly prepared. And the same berries are chosen in England to furnish the kernel for a very nice sugar-plum. The syrup of Barberries will make with water an excellent astringent gargle for raw, irritable sore throat; likewise the jelly gives famous relief for this catarrhal affection. It is prepared by boiling the berries, when ripe, with an equal weight of sugar, and then straining. For an attack of colic because of gravel in the kidneys, five drops of the tincture on sugar every five minutes will promptly relieve, as likewise when albumen is found by analysis in the urine.

A noted modern nostrum belauds the virtues of the Barberry as specific against bile, heartburn, and the black jaundice, this being a remedy which was "discovered after infinite pains by one who had studied for thirty years by candle light for the good of his countrymen." In Gerard's time at the village of Ivor, near Colebrooke, most of the hedges consisted solely of Barberry bushes.

[44] The following is a good old receipt for making Barberry jam:—Pick the fruit from the stalks, and bake it in an earthen pan; then press it through a sieve with a wooden spoon. Having mixed equal weights of the prepared fruit, and of powdered sugar, put these together in pots, and cover the mixture up, setting them in a dry place, and having sifted some powdered sugar over the top of each pot. Among the Italians the Barberry bears the name of Holy Thorn, because thought to have formed part of the crown of thorns made for our Saviour.



BARLEY.

Hordeum Vulgare—common Barley—is chiefly used in Great Britain for brewing and distilling; but, it has dietetic and medicinal virtues which entitle it to be considered among serviceable simples. Roman gladiators who depended for their strength and prowess chiefly on Barley, were called Hordearii. Nevertheless, this cereal is less nourishing than wheat, and when prepared as food is apt to purge; therefore it is not made into bread, except when wheat is scarce and dear, though in Scotland poor people eat Barley bread. In India Barley meal is made into balls of dough for the oxen and camels. Pearl Barley is prepared in Holland and Germany by first shelling the grain, and then grinding it into round white granules. The ancients fed their horses upon Barley, and we fatten swine on this grain made into meal. Among the Greeks beer was known as barley wine, which was brewed without hops, these dating only from the fourteenth century.

A decoction of barley with gum arabic, one ounce of the gum dissolved in a pint of the hot decoction, is a very useful drink to soothe irritation of the bladder, [45] and of the urinary passages. The chemical constituents of Barley are starch, gluten, albumen, oil, and hordeic acid. From the earliest times it has been employed to prepare drinks for the sick, especially in feverish disorders, and for sore lining membranes of the chest. Honey may be added beneficially to the decoction of barley for bronchial coughs. The French make "Orgeat" of barley boiled in successive waters, and sweetened at length as a cooling drink: though this name is now applied in France to a liqueur concocted from almonds.



BASIL.

The herb Sweet Basil (Ocymum Basilicum) is so called because "the smell thereof is fit for a king's house." It grows commonly in our kitchen gardens, but in England it dies down every year, and the seeds have to be sown annually. Botanically, it is named "basilicon," or royal, probably because used of old in some regal unguent, or bath, or medicine.

This, and the wild Basil, belong to the Labiate order of plants. The leaves of the Sweet Basil, when slightly bruised, exhale a delightful odour; they gave the distinctive flavour to the original Fetter-Lane sausages.

The Wild Basil (Calamintha clinopodium) or Basil thyme, or Horse thyme, is a hairy plant growing in bushy places, also about hedges and roadsides, and bearing whorls of purple flowers with a strong odour of cloves. The term Clinopodium signifies "bed's-foot flower," because "the branches dooe resemble the foot of a bed." In common with the other labiates, Basil, both the wild and the sweet, furnishes an aromatic volatile camphoraceous oil. On this account it is much employed in France for flavouring soups (especially mock turtle) and [46] sauces; and the dry leaves, in the form of snuff, are used for relieving nervous headaches. A tea, made by pouring boiling water on the garden basil, when green, gently but effectually helps on the retarded monthly flow with women. The Bush Basil is Ocymum minimum, of which the leafy tops are used for seasoning, and in salads.

The Sweet Basil has been immortalised by Keats in his tender, pathetic poem of Isabella and the Pot of Basil, founded on a story from Boccaccio. She reverently possessed herself of the decapitated head of her lover, Lorenzo, who had been treacherously slain:—

"She wrapped it up, and for its tomb did choose A garden pot, wherein she laid it by, And covered it with mould, and o'er it set Sweet Basil, which her tears kept ever wet."

The herb was used at funerals in Persia. Its seeds were sown by the Romans with maledictions and curses through the belief that the more it was abused the better it would prosper. When desiring a good crop they trod it down with their feet, and prayed the gods it might not vegetate. The Greeks likewise supposed Basil to thrive best when sown with swearing; and this fact explains the French saying, Semer la Basilic, as signifying "to slander." It was told in Elizabeth's time that the hand of a fair lady made Basil flourish; and this was then planted in pots as an act of gallantry. "Basil," says John Evelyn, "imparts a grateful flavour to sallets if not too strong, but is somewhat offensive to the eyes." Shenstone, in his School Mistress's Garden, tells of "the tufted Basil," and Culpeper quaintly says: "Something is the matter; Basil and Rue will never grow together: no, nor near one another." It is related [47] that a certain advocate of Genoa was once sent as an ambassador to treat for conditions with the Duke of Milan; but the Duke harshly refused to hear the message, or to grant the conditions. Then the Ambassador offered him a handful of Basil. Demanding what this meant, the Duke was told that the properties of the herb were, if gently handled, to give out a pleasant odour; but that, if bruised, and hardly wrung, it would breed scorpions. Moved by this witty answer, the Duke confirmed the conditions, and sent the Ambassador honourably home.



BEAN (see Pea and Bean).



BELLADONNA (see Night Shade).



BENNET HERB (Avens).

This, the Herba Benedicta, or Blessed Herb, or Avens (Geum Urbanum) is a very common plant of the Rose tribe, in our woods, hedges, and shady places. It has an erect hairy stem, red at the base, with terminal bright yellow drooping flowers. The ordinary name Avens—or Avance, Anancia, Enancia—signifies an antidote, because it was formerly thought to ward off the Devil, and evil spirits, and venomous beasts. Where the root is in a house Satan can do nothing, and flies from it: "therefore" (says Ortus Sanitatis) "it is blessed before all other herbs; and if a man carries the root about him no venomous beast can harm him." The herb is sometimes called Way Bennet, and Wild Rye. Its graceful trefoiled loaf, and the fine golden petals of its flowers, symbolising the five wounds of Christ, were sculptured by the monks of the thirteenth century on their Church architecture. The botanical title of this [48] plant, Geum, is got from Geuo, "to yield an agreeable fragrance," in allusion to the roots. Hence also has been derived another appellation of the Avens—Radix Caryophyllata, or "clove root," because when freshly dug out of the ground the roots smell like cloves. They yield tannin freely, with mucilage, resin, and muriate of lime, together with a heavy volatile oil. The roots are astringent and antiseptic, having been given in infusion for ague, and as an excellent cordial sudorific in chills, or for fresh catarrh. To make this a pint of boiling water should be poured on half an ounce of the dried root, or rather more of the fresh root, sliced. Half a wineglassful will be the dose, or ten grains of the powdered root. An extract is further made. When the petals of the flower fall off, a small round prickly ball is to be seen.



BETONY.

Few, if any, herbal plants have been more praised for their supposed curative virtues than the Wood Betony (Stachys Betonica), belonging to the order of Labiates. By the common people it is often called Bitny. The name Betonica is from the Celtic "ben," head, and "tonic," good, in allusion to the usefulness of the herb against infirmities of the head. It is of frequent growth in shady woods and meadows, having aromatic leaves, and spikes (stakoi) of light purple flowers. Formerly it was held in the very highest esteem as a leading herbal simple. The Greeks loudly extolled its good qualities. Pliny, in downright raptures, styled it ante cunctas laudatissima! An old Italian proverb ran thus: Vende la tunica en compra la Betonia, "Sell your coat, and buy Betony;" whilst modern Italians, when speaking of a most excellent man, say, [49] "He has as many virtues as Betony"—He piu virtu che Bettonica.

In the Medicina Britannica, 1666, we read: "I have known the most obstinate headaches cured by daily breakfasting for a month or six weeks on a decoction of Betony, made with new milk, and strained."

Antonius Musa, chief physician to the Emperor Augustus, wrote a book entirely on the virtues of this herb. Meyrick says, inveterate headaches after resisting every other remedy, have been cured by taking daily at breakfast a decoction made from the leaves and tops of the Wood Betony. Culpeper wrote: "This is a precious herb well worth keeping in your house." Gerard tells that "Betony maketh a man have a good appetite to his meat, and is commended against ache of the knuckle bones" (sciatica).

A pinch of the powdered herb will provoke violent sneezing. The dried leaves formed an ingredient in Rowley's British Herb Snuff, which was at one time quite famous against headaches.

And yet, notwithstanding all this concensus of praise from writers of different epochs, it does not appear that the Betony, under chemical analysis and research, shows itself as containing any special medicinal or curative constituents. It only affords the fragrant aromatic principles common to most of the labiate plants.

Parkinson, who enlarged the Herbal of Gerard, pronounced the leaves and flowers of Wood Betony, "by their sweet and spicy taste, comfortable both in meate and medicine." Anyhow, Betony tea, made with boiling water poured on the plant, is a safe drink, and likely to prove of benefit against languid nervous headaches; and the dried herb may be smoked as tobacco for relieving the same ailment. To make Betony tea, put two ounces of [50] the herb to a quart of water over the fire, and let this gradually simmer to three half-pints. Give a wine-glassful of the decoction three times a day. A conserve may be made from the flowers for similar purposes. The Poet Laureate, A. Austin, mentions "lye of Betony to soothe the brow." Both this plant, and the Water Betony—so called from its similarity of leaf—bear the name of Kernel-wort, from having tubers or kernels attached to the roots, and from being therefore supposed, on the doctrine of signatures, to cure diseased kernels or scrofulous glands in the neck; also to banish piles from the fundament.

But the Water Betony (Figwort) belongs not to the labiates, but to the Scrophulariaceoe, or scrofula-curing order of plants. It is called in some counties "brown-wort," and in Yorkshire "bishopsleaves," or, l'herbe du siege, which term has a double meaning—in allusion both to the seat in the temple of Cloacina (W.C.) and to the ailments of the lower body in connection therewith, as well as to the more exalted "See" of a Right Reverend Prelate. In old times the Water figwort was famous as a vulnerary, both when used externally, and when taken in decoction. The name "brown-wort" has been got either from the brown colour of the stems and flowers, or, more probably, from its growing abundantly about the "brunnen," or public German fountains. Wasps and bees are fond of the flowers. In former days this herb was relied on for the cure of toothache, and for expelling the particular disembodied spirit, or "mare," which visited our Saxon ancestors during their sleep after supper, being familiarly known to them as the "nightmare." The "Echo" was in like manner thought by the Saxons to be due to a spectre, or mare, which they called the "wood mare." The Water [51] Betony is said to make one of the ingredients in Count Mattaei's noted remedy, "anti-scrofuloso." The Figwort is named in Somersetshire "crowdy-kit" (the word kit meaning a fiddle), "or fiddlewood," because if two of the stalks are rubbed together, they make a noise like the scraping of the bow on violin strings. In Devonshire, also, the plant is known as "fiddler."

An allied Figwort—which is botanically called nodosa, or knotted—is considered, when an ointment is made with it, using the whole plant bruised and treated with unsalted lard, a sovereign remedy against "burnt holes" or gangrenous chicken-pox, such as often attacks the Irish peasantry, who subsist on a meagre and exclusively vegetable diet, being half starved, and pent up in wretched foul hovels. This herb is said to be certainly curative of hydrophobia, by taking every morning whilst fasting a slice of bread and butter on which the powdered knots of the roots have been spread, following it up with two tumblers of fresh spring water. Then let the patient be well clad in woollen garments and made to take a long fast walk until in a profuse perspiration. The treatment should be continued for nine days. Again, the botanical name of a fig, ficus, has been commonly applied to a sore or scab appearing on a part of the body where hair is, or to a red sore in the fundament, i.e., to a pile. And the Figwort is so named in allusion to its curative virtues against piles, when the plant is made into an ointment for outward use, and when the tincture is taken internally. It is specially visited by wasps.



BILBERRY (Whortleberry, or Whinberry).

This fruit, which belongs to the Cranberry order of plants, grows abundantly throughout England in heathy [52] and mountainous districts. The small-branched shrub bears globular, wax-like flowers, and black berries, which are covered, when quite fresh, with a grey bloom. In the West of England they are popularly called "whorts," and they ripen about the time of St. James' Feast, July 25th. Other names for the fruit are Blueberry, Bulberry, Hurtleberry, and Huckleberry. The title Whinberry has been acquired from its growing on Whins, or Heaths; and Bilberry signifies dark coloured; whence likewise comes Blackwort as distinguished in its aspect from the Cowberry and the Cranberry. By a corruption the original word Myrtleberry has suffered change of its initial M into W. (Whortlebery.) In the middle ages the Myrtleberry was used in medicine and cookery, to which berry the Whortleberry bears a strong resemblance. It is agreeable to the taste, and may be made into tarts, but proves mawkish unless mixed with some more acid fruit.

The Bilberry (Vaccinium Myrtillus) is an admirable astringent, and should be included as such among the domestic medicines of the housewife. If some good brandy be poured over two handfuls of the fruit in a bottle, this will make an extract which continually improves by being kept. Obstinate diarrhoea may be cured by giving doses of a tablespoonful of this extract taken with a wineglassful of warm water, and repeated at intervals of two hours whilst needed, even for the more severe cases of dysenteric diarrhoea. The berries contain chemically much tannin. Their stain on the lips may be quickly effaced by sucking at a lemon. In Devonshire they are eaten at table with cream. The Irish call them "frawns." If the first tender leaves are properly gathered and dried, they can scarcely be [53] distinguished from good tea. Moor game live on these berries in the autumn. Their juice will stain paper or linen purple:—

"Sanguineo splendore rosas vaccinia nigro, Induit, et dulci violas ferrugine pingit." CLAUDIAN.

They are also called in some counties, Blaeberries, Truckleberries, and Blackhearts.

The extract of Bilberry is found to be a very useful application for curing such skin diseases as scaly eczema, and other eczema which is not moist or pustulous; also for burns and scalds. Some of the extract is to be laid thickly on the cleansed skin with a camel hairbrush, and a thin layer of cotton wool to be spread over it, the whole being fastened with a calico or gauze bandage. This should be changed gently once a day.

Another Vaccinium (oxycoccos), the Marsh Whortleberry, or Cranberry, or Fenberry—from growing in fens—is found in peat bogs, chiefly in the North. This is a low plant with straggling wiry stems, and solitary terminal bright red flowers, of which the segments are bent back in a singular manner. Its fruit likewise makes excellent tarts, and forms a considerable article of commerce at Langtown, on the borders of Cumberland. The fruit stalks are crooked at the top, and before the blossom expands they resemble the head and neck of a crane.



BLACKBERRY.

This is the well-known fruit of the Common Bramble (Rubus fructicosus), which grows in every English hedgerow, and which belongs to the Rose order of plants. It has long been esteemed for its bark and leaves as a [54] capital astringent, these containing much tannin; also for its fruit, which is supplied with malic and citric acids, pectin, and albumen. Blackberries go often by the name of "bumblekites," from "bumble," the cry of the bittern, and kyte, a Scotch word for belly; the name bumblekite being applied, says Dr. Prior, "from the rumbling and bumbling caused in the bellies of children who eat the fruit too greedily." "Rubus" is from the Latin ruber, red.

The blackberry has likewise acquired the name of scaldberry, from producing, as some say, the eruption known as scaldhead in children who eat the fruit to excess; or, as others suppose, from the curative effects of the leaves and berries in this malady of the scalp; or, again, from the remedial effects of the leaves when applied externally to scalds.

It has been said that the young shoots, eaten as a salad, will fasten loose teeth. If the leaves are gathered in the Spring and dried, then, when required, a handful of them may be infused in a pint of boiling water, and the infusion, when cool, may be taken, a teacupful at a time, to stay diarrhoea, and for some bleedings. Similarly, if an ounce of the bruised root is boiled in three half-pints of water, down to a pint, a teacupful of this may be given every three or four hours. The decoction is also useful against whooping-cough in its spasmodic stage. The bark contains tannin; and if an ounce of the same be boiled in a pint and a half of water, or of milk, down to a pint, half a teacupful of the decoction may be given every hour or two for staying relaxed bowels. Likewise the fruit, if desiccated in a moderately hot oven, and afterwards reduced to powder (which should be kept ill a well corked bottle) will prove an efficacious remedy for dysentery.

[55] Gerard says: "Bramble leaves heal the eyes that hang out, and stay the haemorrhoides [piles] if they can be laid thereunto." The London Pharmacopoeia (1696) declared the ripe berries of the bramble to be a great cordial, and to contain a notable restorative spirit. In Cruso's Treasury of Easy Medicines (1771), it is directed for old inveterate ulcers: "Take a decoction of blackberry leaves made in wine, and foment the ulcers with this whilst hot each night and morning, which will heal them, however difficult to be cured." The name of the bush is derived from brambel, or brymbyll, signifying prickly; its blossom as well as the fruit, ripe and unripe, in all stages, may be seen on the bush at the same time. With the ancient Greeks Blackberries were a popular remedy for gout.

As soon as blackberries are over-ripe, they become quite indigestible. Country folk say in Somersetshire and Sussex: "The devil goes round on Old Michaelmas Day, October 11th, to spite the Saint, and spits on the blackberries, so that they who eat them after that date fall sick, or have trouble before the year is out." Blackberry wine and blackberry jam are taken for sore throats in many rustic homes. Blackberry jelly is useful for dropsy from feeble ineffective circulation. To make "blackberry cordial," the juice should be expressed from the fresh ripe fruit, adding half a pound of white sugar to each quart thereof, together with half an ounce of both nutmeg and cloves; then boil these together for a short time, and add a little brandy to the mixture when cold.

In Devonshire the peasantry still think that if anyone is troubled with "blackheads," i.e., small pimples, or boils, he may be cured by creeping from East to West on the hands and knees nine times beneath an arched [56] bramble bush. This is evidently a relic of an old Dryad superstition when the angry deities who inhabited particular trees had to be appeased before the special diseases which they inflicted could be cured. It is worthy of remark that the Bramble forms the subject of the oldest known apologue. When Jonathan upbraided the men of Shechem for their base ingratitude to his father's house, he related to them the parable of the trees choosing a king, by whom the Bramble was finally elected, after the olive, the fig tree, and the vine had excused themselves from accepting this dignity.

In the Roxburghe Ballad of "The Children in the Wood," occurs the verse—

"Their pretty lips with Blackberries Were all besmeared and dyed; And when they saw the darksome night They sat them down, and cryed."

The French name for blackberries is mures sauvages, also mures de haie; and in some of our provincial districts they are known as "winterpicks," growing on the Blag.

Blackberry wine, which is a trustworthy cordial astringent remedy for looseness of the bowels, may be made thus: Measure your berries, and bruise them, and to every gallon of the fruit add a quart of boiling water. Let the mixture stand for twenty-four hours, occasionally stirring; then strain off the liquid, adding to every gallon a couple of pounds of refined sugar, and keep it in a cask tightly corked till the following October, when it will be ripe and rich.

A noted hair-dye is said to be made by boiling the leaves of the bramble in strong lye, which then imparts permanently to the hair a soft, black colour. Tom Hood, in his humorous way, described a negro funeral [57] as "going a black burying." An American poet graphically tell us:—

"Earth's full of Heaven, And every common bush afire with God! But only they who see take off their shoes; The rest sit round it, and—pluck blackberries."



BLUEBELL (Wild Hyacinth).

This,—the Agraphis mutans,—of the Lily tribe—is so abundant in English woods and pastures, whilst so widely known, and popular with young and old, as to need no description. Hyacinth petals are marked in general with dark spots, resembling in their arrangement the Greek word AI, alas! because a youth, beloved by Apollo, and killed by an ill-wind, was changed into this flower. But the wild Hyacinth bears no such character on its petals, and is therefore called "non-scriptus." The graceful curl of the petals, not their dark violet colour, has suggested to the poets "hyacinthine locks."

In Walton's Angler the Bluebell is mentioned as Culverkeys, the same as "Calverkeys" in Wiltshire. No particular medicinal uses have attached themselves to the wild Hyacinth flower as a herbal simple. The root is round, and was formerly prized for its abundant clammy juice given out when bruised, and employed as starch. Miss Pratt refers to this as poisonous; and our Poet Laureate teaches:—

"In the month when earth and sky are one, To squeeze the blue bell 'gainst the adder's bite."

When dried and powdered, the root as a styptic is of special virtue to cure the whites of women: in doses of not more than three grains at a time. "There is [58] hardly," says Sir John Hill, "a more powerful remedy." Tennyson has termed the woodland abundance of Hyacinths in full spring time as "The heavens upbreaking through the earth." On the day of St. George, the Patron Saint of England, these wild hyacinths tinge the meadows and pastures with their deep blue colour—an emblem of the ocean empire, over which England assumes the rule.

But the chief charms of the Bluebell are its beauty and early appearance. Now is "the winter past; the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time for the singing of birds is come; and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land."

"This earth is one great temple, made For worship everywhere; The bells are flowers in sun and shade Which ring the heart to prayer."

"The city bell takes seven days To reach the townsman's ear; But he who kneels in Nature's ways. Has Sabbath all the year."

The Hairbell (Campanula rotundifolia) is the Bluebell of Scotland; and nothing rouses a Scot to anger more surely than to exhibit the wild Hyacinth as the true Bluebell.



BOG BEAN (or Marsh-trefoil).

The Buck-bean, or Bog-bean, which is common enough in stagnant pools, and on our spongy bogs, is the most serviceable of all known herbal tonics. It may be easily recognised growing in water by its large leaves overtopping the surface, each being composed of three leaflets, and resembling the leaf of a Windsor Broad Bean. The flowers when in bud are of a bright rose [59] color, and when fully blown they have the inner surface of their petals thickly covered with a white fringe, on which account the plant is known also as "white fluff." The name Buckbean is perhaps a corruption of scorbutus, scurvy; this giving it another title, "scurvy bean." And it is termed "goat's bean," perhaps from the French le bouc, "a he-goat." The plant flowers for a month and therefore bears the botanical designation, "Menyanthes" (trifoliata) from meen, "a month," and anthos, "a flower." It belongs to the Gentian tribe, each of which is distinguished by a tonic and appetizing bitterness of taste. The root of the Bog Bean is the most bitter part, and is therefore selected for medicinal use. It contains a chemical glucoside, "Menyanthin," which consists of glucose and a volatile product, "Menyanthol." For curative purposes druggists supply an infusion of the herb, and a liquid extract in combination with liquorice. These preparations are in moderate doses, strengthening and antiscorbutic; but when given more largely they are purgative and emetic. Gerard says if the plant "be taken with mead, or honied water, it is of use against a cough"; in which respect it is closely allied to the Sundew (another plant of the bogs) for relieving whooping-cough after the first feverish stage, or any similar hacking, spasmodic cough. A tincture is made (H.) from the whole plant with spirit of wine, and this proves most useful for clearing obscuration of the sight, when there is a sense, especially in the open-air, of a white vibrating mist before the eyes; and therefore it has been given with marked success in early stages of amaurotic paralysis of the retina. The dose should be three or four drops of the tincture with a tablespoonful of cold water three times in the day for a week at a time.



[60] BORAGE.

The Borage, with its gallant blue flower, is cultivated in our gardens as a pot herb, and is associated in our minds with bees and claret cup. It grows wild in abundance on open plains where the soil is favourable, and it has a long-established reputation for cheering the spirits. Botanically, it is the Borago officinalis, this title being a corruption of cor-ago, i.e., cor, the heart, ago, I stimulate—quia cordis affectibus medetur, because it cures weak conditions of the heart. An old Latin adage says: Borago ego gaudia semper ago—"I, Borage, bring always courage"; or the name may be derived from the Celtic, Borrach, "a noble person." This plant was the Bugloss of the older botanists, and it corresponds to our Common Bugloss, so called from the shape and bristly surface of its leaves, which resemble bous-glossa, the tongue of an ox. Chemically, the plant Borage contains potassium and calcium combined with mineral acids. The fresh juice affords thirty per cent., and the dried herb three per cent. of nitrate of potash. The stems and leaves supply much saline mucilage, which, when boiled and cooled, likewise deposits nitre and common salt. These crystals, when ignited, will burn with a succession of small sparkling explosions, to the great delight of the schoolboy. And it is to such saline qualities the wholesome, invigorating effects and the specially refreshing properties of the Borage are supposed to be mainly due. For which reason, the plant, "when taken in sallets," as says an old herbalist, "doth exhilarate, and make the mind glad," almost in the same way as a bracing sojourn by the seaside during an autumn holiday. The flowers possess cordial virtues which are very revivifying, and have been much commended against melancholic depression of the nervous system. Burton, in his [61] Anatomy of Melancholy (1676), wrote with reference to the frontispiece of that book:—

"Borage and Hellebore fill two scenes, Sovereign plants to purge the veins Of melancholy, and cheer the heart Of those black fumes which make it smart; The best medicine that God e'er made For this malady, if well assaid."

"The sprigs of Borage," wrote John Evelyn, "are of known virtue to revive the hypochondriac and cheer the hard student."

According to Dioscorides and Pliny, the Borage was that famous nepenthe of Homer which Polydamas sent to Helen for a token "of such rare virtue that when taken steep'd in wine, if wife and children, father and mother, brother and sister, and all thy dearest friends should die before thy face, thou could'st not grieve, or shed a tear for them." "The bowl of Helen had no other ingredient, as most criticks do conjecture, than this of borage." And it was declared of the herb by another ancient author: Vinum potatum quo sit macerata buglossa moerorum cerebri dicunt auferre periti:—

"To enliven the sad with the joy of a joke, Give them wine with some borage put in it to soak."

The Romans named the Borage Euphrosynon, because when put into a cup of wine it made the drinkers of the same merry and glad.

Parkinson says, "The seed of Borage helpeth nurses to have more store of milk, for which purpose its leaves are most conducing." Its saline constituents promote activity of the kidneys, and for this reason the plant is used in France to carry off catarrhs which are feverish. The fresh herb has a cucumber-like odour, and when compounded with lemon and sugar, added to wine and [62] water, it makes a delicious "cool tankard," as a summer drink. "A syrup concocted of the floures," said Gerard, "quieteth the lunatick person, and the leaves eaten raw do engender good blood." Of all nectar-loving insects, bees alone know how to pronounce the "open sesame" of admission to the honey pots of the Borage.



BROOM.

The Broom, or Link (Cytisus scoparius) is a leguminous shrub which is well known as growing abundantly on open places in our rural districts. The prefix "cytisus" is derived from the name of a Greek island where Broom abounded. It formerly bore the name of Planta Genista, and gave rise to the historic title, "Plantagenet." A sprig of its golden blossom was borne by Geoffrey of Anjou in his bonnet when going into battle, making him conspicuous throughout the strife. In the Ingoldsby Legends it is said of our second King Henry's headdress:—

"With a great sprig of broom, which he bore as a badge in it, He was named from this circumstance, Henry Plantagenet."

The stalks of the Broom, and especially the topmost young twigs, are purgative, and act powerfully on the kidneys to increase the flow of urine. They contain chemically an acid principle, "scoparin," and an alkaloid, "sparteine." For medical purposes these terminal twigs are used (whether fresh or dried) to make a decoction which is of great use in dropsy from a weak heart, but it should not be given where congestion of the lungs is present. From half to one ounce by weight of the tops should be boiled down in a pint of water to half this quantity, and a wineglassful may be taken as a dose every four or six hours. For more chronic dropsy, a compound decoction of broom may be given with much [63] benefit. To make this, use broom-tops and dandelion roots, of each half an ounce, boiling them in a pint of water down to half a pint, and towards the last adding half an ounce of bruised juniper berries. When cold, the decoction should be strained and a wineglassful may be had three or four times a day. "Henry the Eighth, a prince of famous memory, was wonte to drinke the distilled water of broome flowers against surfeits and diseases therefrom arising." The flower-buds, pickled in vinegar, are sometimes used as capers; and the roasted seeds have been substituted for coffee. Sheep become stupefied or excited when by chance constrained to eat broom-tops.

The generic name, Scoparius, is derived from the Latin word scopa, a besom, this signifying "a shrub to sweep with." It has been long represented that witches delight to ride thereon: and in Holland, if a vessel lying in dock has a besom tied to the top of its mast, this advertises it as in search of a new owner. Hence has arisen the saying about a woman when seeking a second husband, Zij steetk't dem bezen, "She hangs out the broom."

There is a tradition in Suffolk and Sussex:—

"If you sweep the house with Broom in May, You'll sweep the head of the house away."

Allied to the Broom, and likewise belonging to the Papilionaceous order of leguminous plants, though not affording any known medicinal principle, the Yellow Gorse (Ulex) or Furze grows commonly throughout England on dry exposed plains. It covers these during the flowering season with a gorgeous sheet of yellow blossoms, orange perfumed, and which entirely conceals the rugged brown unsightly branches beneath. Its elastic seed vessels burst with a crackling noise in hot [64] weather, and scatter the seeds on all sides. "Some," says Parkinson, "have used the flowers against the jaundice," but probably only because of their yellow colour. "The seeds," adds Gerard, "are employed in medicines against the stone, and the staying of the laske" (laxitas, looseness). They are certainly astringent, and contain tannin. In Devonshire the bush is called "Vuzz," and in Sussex "Hawth."

The Gorse is rare in Scotland, thriving best in our cool humid climate. In England it is really never out of blossom, not even after a severe frost, giving rise to the well-known saying "Love is never out of season except when the Furze is out of bloom." It is also known as Fursbush, Furrs and Whins, being crushed and given as fodder to cattle. The tender shoots are protected from being eaten by herbivorous animals in the same way as are the thistles and the holly, by the angles of the leaves having grown together so as to constitute prickles.

"'Twere to cut off an epigram's point, Or disfurnish a knight of his spurs, If we foolishly tried to disjoint Its arms from the lance-bearing Furze."

Linnoeus "knelt before it on the sod: and for its beauty thanked his God."

The Butcher's Broom, Ruscus (or Bruscus) aculeatus, or prickly, is a plant of the Lily order, which grows chiefly in the South of England, on heathy places and in woods. It bears sharp-pointed, stiff leaves (each of which produces a small solitary flower on its upper surface), and scarlet berries. The shrub is also known as Knee Hulyer, Knee Holly (confused with the Latin cneorum), Prickly Pettigrue and Jews' Myrtle. Butchers make besoms of its twigs, with which to sweep their stalls or [65] blocks: and these twigs are called "pungi topi," "prickrats," from being used to preserve meat from rats. Jews buy the same for service during the Feast of Tabernacles; and the boughs have been employed for flogging chilblains. The Butcher's Broom has been claimed by the Earls of Sutherland as the distinguishing badge of their followers and Clan, every Sutherland volunteer wearing a sprig of the bush in his bonnet on field days. This shrub is highly extolled as a free promoter of urine in dropsy and obstructions of the kidneys; a pint of boiling water should be poured on an ounce of the fresh twigs, or on half-an-ounce of the bruised root, to make an infusion, which may be taken as tea. The root is at first sweet to the taste, and afterwards bitter.



BRYONY.

English hedgerows exhibit Bryony of two distinct sorts—the white and the black—which differ much, the one from the other, as to medicinal properties, and which belong to separate orders of plants. The White Bryony is botanically a cucumber, being of common growth at our roadsides, and often called the White Vine; it also bears the name of Tetterberry, from curing a disease of the skin known as tetters. It climbs about with long straggling stalks, which attach themselves by spiral tendrils, and which produce rough, palmated leaves. Insignificant pale-green flowers spring in small clusters from the bottom of these leaves. The round berries are at first green, and afterwards brilliantly red. Chemically, the plant contains "bryonin," a medicinal substance which is intensely bitter; also malate and phosphate of lime, with gum, starch, and sugar.

A tincture is made (H.) from the fresh root collected before the plant flowers, which is found to [66] be of superlative use for the relief of chronic rheumatism (especially when aggravated by moving), and for subduing active congestions of the serous membranes which line the heart-bag, the ribs, the outer coat of the brain, and which cover the bowels. In the treatment of pleurisy, this tincture is invaluable. Four drops should be given in a tablespoonful of cold water every three or four hours. Also for any contused bruising of the skin, and especially for a black eye, to promptly bathe the injured part with a decoction of White Bryony root will speedily subdue the swelling, and will prevent discoloration far better than a piece of raw beef applied outside as the remedy most approved in the Ring.

In France, the White Bryony is deemed so potent and perilous, that its root is named the devil's turnip—navet du diable.

Our English plant, the Bryonia dioica, purges as actively as colocynth, if too freely administered.

The name Bryony is two thousand years old, and comes from a Greek word bruein, "to shoot forth rapidly."

From the incised root of the White Bryony exudes a milky juice which is aperient of action, and which has been commended for epilepsy, as well as for obstructed liver and dropsy; also its tincture for chronic constipation.

The popular herbal drink known as Hop Bitters is said to owe many of its supposed virtues to the bryony root, substituted for the mandrake which it is alleged to contain. The true mandrake is a gruesome herb, which was held in superstitious awe by the Greeks and the Romans. Its root was forked, and bears some resemblance to the legs of a man; for which reason the moneymakers [67] of the past increased the likeness, and attributed supernatural powers to the plant. It was said to grow only beneath a murderer's gibbet, and when torn from the earth by its root to utter a shriek which none might hear and live. From earliest times, in the East, a notion prevailed that the mandrake would remove sterility. With which purpose in view, Rachel said to Leah: "Give me, I pray thee, of thy son's mandrakes" (Genesis xxx. v. 14). In later times the Bryony has come into use instead of the true mandrake, and it has continued to form a profitable spurious article with mountebank doctors. In Henry the Eighth's day, ridiculous little images made from Bryony roots, cut into the figure of a man, and with grains of millet inserted into the face as eyes, the same being known as pappettes or mammettes, were accredited with magical powers, and fetched high prices with simple folk. Italian ladies have been known to pay as much as thirty golden ducats for one of these artificial mandrakes. Readers of Thalaba (Southey) will remember the fine scene in which Khawla procures this plant to form part of the waxen figure of the Destroyer. Unscrupulous vendors of the fraudulent articles used to seek out a thriving young Bryony plant, and to open the earth round it. Then being prepared with a mould such as is used for making Plaster of Paris figures, they fixed it close to the root, and fastened it with wire to keep it in place. Afterwards, by filling the earth up to the root they left it to assume the required shape, which was generally accomplished in a single summer.

The medicinal tincture (H.) of White Bryony (Bryonia alba) is of special service to persons of dark hair and complexion, with firm fibre of flesh, and of a bilious cross-grained temperament. Also it is of [68] particular use for relieving coughs, and colds of a feverish bronchial sort, caught by exposure to the east wind. On the contrary, the catarrhal troubles of sensitive females, and of young children, are better met by Ipecacuanha:—

"Coughing in a shady grove Sat my Juliana, Lozenges I gave my love, Ipecacuanha— Full twenty from the lozenge box The greedy nymph did pick; Then, sighing sadly, said to me— My Damon, I am sick." George Canning.

THYRSIS ET PHYLLIS. In nemore umbroso Phyllis mea forte sedebat, Cui mollem exhausit tussis anhela sinum: Nec mora: de loculo deprompsi pyxida loevo, Ipecacuaneos, exhibuique trochos: Illa quidem imprudens medicatos leniter orbes Absorpsit numero bisque quaterque decem: Tum tenero ducens suspiria pectore dixit, "Thyrsi! Mihi stomachum nausea tristis habet."

The Black Bryony (Lady's-seal, or Oxberry), which likewise grows freely in our hedges, is quite a different plant from its nominal congener. It bears the name of Tamus Vulgaris, and belongs to the natural order of Yams. It is also called the Wild Hop, and Tetterberry or Tetterwort (in common with the greater Celandine), because curing the skin disease known as tetters; and further, Blackbindweed. It has smooth heart-shaped leaves, and produces scarlet, elliptical berries larger than those of the White Bryony. A tincture is made (H.) from the root-stock, with spirit of wine, which proves a most useful application to unbroken chilblains, when [69] made into a lotion with water, one part to twenty. The plant is called Black Bryony (Bryonia nigra) from its dark leaves and black root. It is not given at all internally, but the acrid pulp of the root has been used as a stimulating plaster.



BUCKTHORN.

The common Buckthorn grows in our woods and thickets, and used to be popularly known because of the purgative syrup made from its juice and berries. It bears dense branches of small green flowers, followed by the black berries, which purge violently. If gathered before they are ripe they furnish a yellow dye. When ripe, if mixed with gum arabic and lime water, they form the pigment called "Bladder Green." Until late in the present century— O dura ilia messorum!—English rustics, when requiring an aperient dose for themselves or their children, had recourse to the syrup of Buckthorn. But its action was so severe, and attended with such painful gripings, that as time went on the medicine was discarded, and it is now employed in this respect almost exclusively by the cattle doctor. Dodoeus taught about Buckthorn berries: "They be not meet to be administered but to young and lusty people of the country, which do set more store of their money than their lives." The shrub grows chiefly on chalk, and near brooks. The name Buckthorn is from the German buxdorn, boxthorn, hartshorn. In Anglo-Saxon it was Heorot-bremble. It is also known as Waythorn, Rainberry Thorn, Highway Thorn and Rhineberries. Each of the berries contains four seeds: and the flesh of birds which eat thereof is said to be purgative. When the juice is given medicinally it causes a bad stomach-ache, with much dryness of the throat: for which reason Sydenham [70] always ordered a basin of soup to be given after it. Chemically the active principle of the Buckthorn is "rhamno-cathartine." Likewise a milder kind of Buckthorn, which is much more useful as a Simple, grows freely in England, the Rhamnus frangula or so-called "black berry-bearing Alder," though this appellation is a mistake, because botanically the Alder never bears any berries. This black Buckthorn is a slender shrub, which occurs in our woods and thickets. The juice of its berries is aperient, without being irritating, and is well suited as a laxative for persons of delicate constitution. It possesses the merit of continuing to answer in smaller doses after the patient has become habituated to its use. The berry of the Rhamnus frangula may be known by its containing only two seeds. Country people give the bark boiled in ale for jaundice; and this bark is the black dogwood of gunpowder makers. Lately a certain aperient medicine has become highly popular with both doctors and patients in this country, the same being known as Cascara Sagrada. It is really an American Buckthorn, the Rhamnus Persiana, and it possesses no true advantage over our black Alder Buckthorn, though the bark of this latter must be used a year old, or it will cause griping. A fluid extract of the English mild Buckthorn, or of the American Cascara, is made by our leading druggists, of which from half to one teaspoonful may be given for a dose. This is likewise a tonic to the intestines, and is especially useful for relieving piles. Lozenges also of the Alder Buckthorn are dispensed under the name of "Aperient Fruit Lozenges;" one, or perhaps two, being taken for a dose as required.

There is a Sea Buckthorn, Hippophoe, which belongs to a different natural order, Eloeagnaceoe, a low shrubby tree, [71] growing on sandhills and cliffs, and called also Sallowthorn. The fruit is made (in Tartary) into a pleasant jelly, because of its acid flavour, and used in the Gulf of Bothnia for concocting a fish sauce.

The name signifies "giving light to a horse," being conferred because of a supposed power to cure equine blindness; or it may mean "shining underneath," in allusion to the silvery underside of the leaf.

The old-fashioned Cathartic Buckthorn of our hedges and woods has spinous thorny branchlets, from which its name, Rhamnus, is thought to be derived, because the shrub is set with thorns like as the ram. At one time this Buckthorn was a botanical puzzle, even to Royalty, as the following lines assure us:—

"Hicum, peridicum; all clothed in green; The King could not tell it, no more could the Queen; So they sent to consult wise men from the East. Who said it had horns, though it was not a beast."



BURNET SAXIFRAGE (see Pimpernel).



BUTTERCUP.

The most common Buttercup of our fields (Ranunculus bulbosis) needs no detailed description. It belongs to the order termed Ranunculaceoe, so-called from the Latin rana, a frog, because the several varieties of this genus grow in moist places where frogs abound. Under the general name of Buttercups are included the creeping Ranunculus, of moist meadows; the Ranunculus acris, Hunger Weed, or Meadow Crowfoot, so named from the shape of the leaf (each of these two being also called King Cup), and the Ranunculus bulbosus mentioned above. "King-Cob" signifies a resemblance between the unexpanded flowerbud and [72] a stud of gold, such as a king would wear; so likewise the folded calyx is named Goldcup, Goldknob and Cuckoobud. The term Buttercup has become conferred through a mistaken notion that this flower gives butter a yellow colour through the cows feeding on it (which is not the case), or, perhaps, from the polished, oily surface of the petals. The designation really signifies "button cop," or bouton d'or; "the batchelor's button"; this terminal syllable, cup, being corrupted from the old English word "cop," a head. It really means "button head." The Buttercup generally is known in Wiltshire and the adjoining counties as Crazy, or Crazies, being reckoned by some as an insane plant calculated to produce madness; or as a corruption of Christseye (which was the medieval name of the Marigold).

A burning acridity of taste is the common characteristic of the several varieties of the Buttercup. In its fresh state the ordinary field Buttercup is so acrimonious that by merely pulling up the plant by its root, and carrying it some little distance in the hand, the palm becomes reddened and inflamed. Cows will not eat it unless very hungry, and then the mouth of the animal becomes sore and blistered. The leaves of the Buttercup, when bruised and applied to the skin, produce a blistering of the outer cuticle, with a discharge of a watery fluid, and with heat, redness, and swelling. If these leaves are masticated in the mouth they will induce pains like a stitch between the ribs at the side, with the sharp catchings of neuralgic rheumatism. A medicinal tincture is made (H.) from the bulbous Buttercup with spirit of wine, which will, as a similar, cure shingles very expeditiously, both the outbreak of small watery pimples clustered together at the side, and the accompanying sharp pains between the ribs. Also this tincture will [73] promptly relieve neuralgic side-ache, and pleurisy which is of a passive sort. From six to eight drops of the tincture may be taken with a tablespoonful of cold water by an adult three or four times a day for either of the aforesaid purposes. In France, this plant is called "jaunet." Buttercups are most probably the "Cuckoo Buds" immortalised by Shakespeare. The fresh leaves of the Crowfoot (Ranunculus acris) formed a part of the famous cancer cure of Mr. Plunkett in 1794. This cure comprised Crowfoot leaves, freshly gathered, and dog's-foot fennel leaves, of each an ounce, with one drachm of white arsenic levigated, and with five scruples of flowers of sulphur, all beaten together into a paste, and dried by the sun in balls, which were then powdered, and, being mixed with yolk of egg, were applied on pieces of pig's bladder. The juice of the common Buttercup (Bulbosus), known sometimes as "St. Anthony's Turnip," if applied to the nostrils, will provoke sneezing, and will relieve passive headache in this way. The leaves have been applied as a blister to the wrists in rheumatism, and when infused in boiling water as a poultice over the pit of the stomach as a counter-irritant. For sciatica the tincture of the bulbous buttercup has proved very helpful.

The Ranunculus flammata, Spearwort, has been used to produce a slight blistering effect by being put under a limpet shell against the skin of the part to be relieved, until some smarting and burning have been sensibly produced, with incipient vesication of the outermost skin.

The Ranunculus Sceleratus, Marsh Crowfoot, or Celery-leaved Buttercup, called in France "herbe sardonique," and "grenouillette d'eau," when made into a tincture (H.) with spirit of wine, and given in small diluted doses, proves curative of stitch in the side, and of neuralgic pains between the ribs, likewise of pleurisy without [74] feverishness. The dose should be five drops of the third decimal tincture with a spoonful of water every three or four hours. This plant grows commonly at the sides of our pools, and in wet ditches, bearing numerous small yellow flowers, with petals scarcely longer than the calyx.



CABBAGE.

"The time has come," as the walrus said in Alice and the Looking Glass, "to talk of many things"—

"Of shoes, and ships, and sealing-wax; of Cabbages, and kings."

The Cabbage, which is fabled to have sprung from the tears of the Spartan lawgiver, Lycurgus, began as the Colewort, and was for six hundred years, according to Pliny and Cato, the only internal remedy used by the Romans. The Ionians had such a veneration for Cabbages that they swore by them, just as the Egyptians did by the onion. With ourselves, the wild Cabbage, growing on our English sea cliffs, is the true Collet, or Colewort, from which have sprung all our varieties of Cabbage—cauliflower, greens, broccoli, etc. No vegetables were grown for the table in England before the time of Henry the Eighth. In the thirteenth century it was the custom to salt vegetables because they were so scarce; and in the sixteenth century a Cabbage from Holland was deemed a choice present.

The whole tribe of Cabbages is named botanically Brassicaceoe— apo tou brassein—because they heat, or ferment.

By natural order they are cruciferous plants; and all contain much nitrogen, or vegetable albumen, with a considerable quantity of sulphur; hence they tend strongly to putrefaction, and when decomposed their odour is very offensive. Being cut into pieces, and pressed close in a tub with aromatic herbs and salt, so as to undergo an acescent fermentation (which is [75] arrested at that stage), Cabbages form the German Saurkraut, which is strongly recommended against scurvy. The white Cabbage is most putrescible; the red most emollient and pectoral. The juice of the red cabbage made into syrup, without any condiments, is useful in chronic coughs, and in bronchial asthma. The leaves of the common white Cabbage, when gently bruised and applied to a blistered surface, will promote a free discharge, as also when laid next the skin in dropsy of the ankles. All the Coleworts are called "Crambe," from krambos, dry, because they dispel drunkenness.

"There is," says an old author, "a natural enmitie between the Colewort and the vine, which is such that the vine, if growing near unto it, withereth and perisheth; yea, if wine be poured into the Colewort while it is boiling, it will not be any more boiled, and the colour thereof will be quite altered." The generic term Colewort is derived from caulis, a stalk, and wourte, as applied to all kinds of herbs that "do serve for the potte." "Good worts," exclaimed Falstaff, catching at Evans' faulty pronunciation of words,—"good worts,"—"good cabbages." An Irish cure for sore throat is to tie Cabbage leaves round it; and the same remedy is applied in England with hot Cabbage leaves for a swollen face. In the Island of Jersey coarse Cabbages are grown abundantly on patches of roadside ground, and in corners of fields, the stalks of which attain the height of eight, ten, or more feet, and are used for making walking sticks or cannes en tiges de choux. These are in great demand on the island, and are largely exported. It may be that a specially tall cabbage of this sort gave rise to the Fairy tale of "Jack and the bean stalk." The word Cabbage bears reference [76] to caba (caput), a head, as signifying a Colewort which forms a round head. Kohl rabi, from caulo-rapum, cabbage turnip, is a name given to the Brassica oleracea. In 1595 the sum of twenty shillings was paid for six Cabbages and a few carrots, at the port of Hull, by the purveyor to the Clifford family.

The red Cabbage is thought in France to be highly anti-scorbutic; and a syrup is made from it with this purpose in view. The juice of white Cabbage leaves will cure warts.

The Brassica oleracea is one of the plants used in Count Mattaei's vaunted nostrum, "anti-scrofuloso." This, the sea Cabbage, with its pale clusters of handsome yellow flowers, is very ornamental to our cliffs. Its leaves, which are conspicuously purple, have a bitter taste when uncooked, but become palatable for boiling if first repeatedly washed; and they are sold at Dover as a market vegetable. These should be boiled in two waters, of which the first will be made laxative, and the second, or thicker decoction, astringent, which fact was known to Hippocrates, who said "jus caulis solvit cujus substantia stringit."

Sir Anthony Ashley brought the Cabbage into English cultivation. It is said a Cabbage is sculptured at his feet on his monument in Wimbourne Minster, Dorset. He imported the Cabbage (Cale) from Cadiz (Cales), where he held a command, and grew rich by seizing other men's possessions, notably by appropriating some jewels entrusted to his care by a lady. Hence he is said to have got more by Cales (Cadiz) than by Cale (Cabbage); and this is, perhaps, the origin of our term "to cabbage." Among tailors, this phrase "to cabbage" is a cant saying which means to filch the cloth when cutting out for a customer. Arbuthnot writes "Your [77] tailor, instead of shreds, cabbages whole yards of cloth." Perhaps the word comes from the French cabasser, to put into a basket.

From the seed of the wild Cabbage (Rape, or Navew) rape-seed oil is extracted, and the residue is called rape-cake, or oil-cake.

Some years ago it was customary to bake bread-rolls wrapped in Cabbage leaves, for imparting what was considered an agreeable flavour. John Evelyn said: "In general, Cabbages are thought to allay fumes, and to prevent intoxication; but some will have them noxious to the sight." After all it must be confessed the Cabbage is greatly to be accused for lying undigested in the stomach, and for provoking eructations; which makes one wonder at the veneration the ancients had for it, calling the tribe divine, and swearing per brassicam, which was for six hundred years held by the Romans a panacea: though "Dis crambee thanatos"—"Death by twice Cabbage"—was a Greek proverb. Gerard says the Greeks called the Cabbage Amethustos, "not only because it driveth away drunkennesse; but also for that it is like in colour to the pretious stone called the amethyst." The Cabbage was Pompey's best beloved dish. To make a winter salad it is customary in America to choose a firm white Cabbage, and to shred it very fine, serving it with a dressing of plain oil and vinegar. This goes by the name of "slaw," which has a Dutch origin.

The free presence of hydrogen and sulphur causes a very strong and unpleasant smell to pervade the house during the cooking of Cabbages. Nevertheless, this sulphur is a very salutary constituent of the vegetable, most useful in scurvy and scrofula. Partridge and Cabbage suit the patrician table; bacon and Cabbage [78] better please the taste and the requirements of the proletarian. The nitrogen of this and other cruciferous plants serves to make them emit offensive stinks when they lie out of doors and rot.

For the purulent scrofulous ophthalmic inflammation of infants, by cleansing the eyes thoroughly every half-hour with warm water, and then packing the sockets each time with fresh Cabbage leaves cleaned and bruised to a soft pulp, the flow of matter will be increased for a few days, but a cure will be soon effected. Pliny commended the juice of the raw Cabbage with a little honey for sore and inflamed eyes which were moist and weeping, but not for those which were dry and dull.

In Kent and Sussex, when a Cabbage is cut and the stalk left in the ground to produce "greens" for the table, a cottager will carve an x on the top flat surface of the upright stalk, and thus protect it against mischievous garden sprites and demons.

Some half a century ago medical apprentices were taught the art of blood-letting by practising with a lancet on the prominent veins of a Cabbage leaf.

Carlyle said "of all plants the Cabbage grows fastest to completion." His parable of the oak and the Cabbage conveys the lesson that those things which are most richly endowed when they come to perfection, are the slowest in their production and development.



CAPSICUM (CAYENNE).

The Capsicum, or Bird Pepper, or Guinea Pepper, is a native of tropical countries; but it has been cultivated throughout Great Britain as a stove plant for so many years (since the time of Gerard, 1636) as to have become practically indigenous. Moreover, its fruit-pods are so highly useful, whether as a condiment, or as a medicine, [79] no apology is needed for including it among serviceable Herbal Simples. The Cayenne pepper of our tables is the powdered fruit of Bird Pepper, a variety of the Capsicum plant, and belonging likewise to the order of Solanums; whilst the customary "hot" pickle which we take with our cold meats is prepared from another variety of the Capsicum plant called "Chilies." This plant—the Bird Pepper—exercises an important medicinal action, which has only been recently recognized by doctors. The remarkable success which has attended the use of Cayenne pepper as a substitute for alcohol with hard drinkers, and as a valuable drug in delirium tremens, has lately led physicians to regard the Capsicum as a highly useful, stimulating, and restorative medicine. For an intemperate person, who really desires to wean himself from taking spirituous liquors, and yet feels to need a substitute at first, a mixture of tincture of Capsicum with tincture of orange peel and water will answer very effectually, the doses being reduced in strength and frequency from day to day. In delirium tremens, if the tincture of Capsicum be given in doses of half-a-dram well diluted with water, it will reduce the tremor and agitation in a few hours, inducing presently a calm prolonged sleep. At the same time the skin will become warm, and will perspire naturally; the pulse will fall in quickness, but whilst regaining fulness and volume; and the kidneys, together with the bowels, will act freely.

Chemically the plant furnishes an essential oil with a crystalline principle, "capsicin," of great power. This oil may be taken remedially in doses of from half to one drop rubbed up with some powdered white sugar, and mixed with a wineglassful of hot water.

The medicinal tincture is made with sixteen grains of [80] the powdered Capsicum to a fluid ounce of spirit of wine; and the dose of this tincture is from five to twenty drops with one or two tablespoonfuls of water. In the smaller doses it serves admirably to relieve pains in the loins when depending on a sluggish inactivity of the kidneys. Unbroken chilblains may be readily cured by rubbing them once a day with a piece of sponge saturated with the tincture of Capsicum until a strong tingling is induced. In the early part of the present century, a medicine of Capsicum with salt was famous for curing severe influenza with putrid sore throat. Two dessert spoonfuls of small red pepper; or three of ordinary cayenne pepper, were beaten together with two of fine salt, into a paste, and with half-a-pint of boiling water added thereto. Then the liquor was strained off when cold, and half-a-pint of very sharp vinegar was mixed with it, a tablespoonful of the united mixture being given to an adult every half, or full hour, diluted with water if too strong. For inflammation of the eyes, with a relaxed state of the membranes covering the eyeballs and lining the lids, the diluted juice of the Capsicum is a sovereign remedy. Again, for toothache from a decayed molar, a small quantity of cayenne pepper introduced into the cavity will often give immediate relief. The tincture or infusion given in small doses has proved useful to determine outwardly the eruption of measles and scarlet fever, when imperfectly developed because of weakness. Also for a scrofulous discharge of matter from the ears, Capsicum tincture, of a weak strength, four drops with a tablespoonful of cold water three times a day, to a child, will prove curative.

A Capsicum ointment, or "Chili paste," scarcely ever fails to relieve chronic rheumatism when rubbed in [81] topically for ten minutes at a time with a gloved hand; and an application afterwards of dry heat will increase the redness and warmth, which persist for some while, and are renewed by walking. This ointment, or paste, is made of the Oleo-resin—Capsicin—half-an-ounce, and Lanolin five ounces, the unguent being melted, and, after adding the Capsicin, letting them be stirred together until cold. The powder or tincture of Capsicum will give energy to a languid digestion, and will correct the flatulency often incidental to a vegetable diet. Again, a gargle containing Capsicum in a proper measure will afford prompt relief in many forms of sore throat, both by its stimulating action, and by virtue of its special affinities (H.); this particularly holds good for a relaxed state of the throat, the uvula, and the tonsils. Cayenne pepper is employed in the adulteration of gin.

The "Peter Piper" of our young memories took pickled pepper by the peck. He must have been a Homoeopathic prover with a vengeance; but has left no useful record of his experiments—the more's the pity—for our guidance when prescribing its diluted forms.



CARAWAY.

The common Caraway is a herb of the umbelliferous order found growing on many waste places in England, though not a true native of Great Britain. Its well-known aromatic seeds should be always at hand in the cupboard of every British housewife. The plant got its name from inhabiting Caria, a province of Asia Minor. It is now cultivated for commerce in Kent and Essex; and the essential oil distilled from the home grown fruit is preferred in this country. The medicinal properties of the Caraway are cordial and comforting to [82] the stomach in colic and in flatulent indigestion; for which troubles a dose of from two to four drops of the essential oil of Caraway may be given on a lump of sugar, or in a teaspoonful of hot water.

For earache, in some districts the country people pound up the crumb of a loaf hot from the oven, together with a handful of bruised Caraway seeds; then wetting the whole with some spirit, they apply it to the affected part. The plant has been long naturalised in England, and was known here in Shakespeare's time, who mentions it in the second part of Henry IV. thus: "Come, cousin Silence! we will eat a pippin of last year's graffing, with a dish of Caraways; and then to bed!" The seeds grow numerously in the small flat flowers placed thickly together on each floral plateau, or umbel, and are best known to us in seed cake, and in Caraway comfits. They are really the dried fruit, and possess, when rubbed in a mortar, a warm aromatic taste, with a fragrant spicy smell. Caraway comfits consist of these fruits encrusted with white sugar; but why the wife of a comfit maker should be given to swearing, as Shakespeare avers, it is not easy to see. The young roots of Caraway plants may be sent to table like parsnips; they warm and stimulate a cold languid stomach. These mixed with milk and made into bread, formed the chara of Julius Caesar, eaten by the soldiers of Valerius. Chemically the volatile oil obtained from Caraway seeds consists of "carvol," and a hydro-carbon, "carvene," which is a sort of "camphor." Dioscorides long ago advised the oil for pale-faced girls; and modern ladies have not disregarded the counsel.

From six pounds of the unbruised seeds, four ounces of the pure essential oil can be expressed. In Germany the peasants flavour their cheese, soups, and household [83] bread—jager—with the Caraway; and this is not a modern custom, for an old Latin author says: Semina carui satis communiter adhibentur ad condiendum panem; et rustica nostrates estant jusculum e pane, seminibus carui, et cerevisa coctum.

The Russians and Germans make from Caraways a favourite liqueur "Kummel," and the Germans add them as a flavouring condiment to their sawerkraut. In France Caraways enter into the composition of l'huile de Venus, and of other renowned cordials.

An ounce of the bruised seeds infused for six hours in a pint of cold water makes a good Caraway julep for infants, from one to three teaspoonfuls for a dose, It "consumeth winde, and is delightful to the stomack; the powdered seed put into a poultice taketh away blacke and blew spots of blows and bruises." "The oil, or seeds of Caraway do sharpen vision, and promote the secretion of milk." Therefore dimsighted men and nursing mothers may courageously indulge in seed cake!

The name Caraway comes from the Gaelic Caroh, a ship, because of the shape which the fruit takes. By cultivation the root becomes more succulent, and the fruit larger, whilst more oily, and therefore acquiring an increase of aromatic taste and odour. In Germany the seeds are given for hysterical affections, being finely powdered and mixed with ginger and salt to spread with butter on bread. As a draught for flatulent colic twenty grains of the powdered seeds may be taken with two teaspoonfuls of sugar in a wineglassful of hot water. Caraway-seed cake was formerly a standing institution at the feasts given by farmers to their labourers at the end of wheat sowing. But narcotic effects have been known to follow the chewing of Caraway seeds in a large quantity, such as three ounces at a time.

[84] As regards its stock of honey the Caraway may be termed, like Uriah Heep, and in a double sense, "truly umbel." The diminutive florets on its flat disk are so shallow that lepidopterous and hymenopterous insects, with their long proboses, stand no chance of getting a meal. They fare as poorly as the stork did in the fable, whom the fox invited to dinner served on a soup plate. As Sir John Lubbock has shown, out of fifty-five visitants to the Caraway plant for nectar, one moth, nine bees, twenty-one flies, and twenty-four miscellaneous midges constituted the dinner party.



CHAMOMILE.

No Simple in the whole catalogue of herbal medicines is possessed of a quality more friendly and beneficial to the intestines than "Chamomile flowers." This herb was well known to the Greeks, who thought it had an odour like that of apples, and therefore they named it "Earth Apple," from two of their words, kamai—on the ground, and melon—an apple. The Spaniards call it Manzanilla, from a little apple, and they give the same name to one of their lightest sherries flavoured with this plant. The flowers, or "blows" of the Chamomile belong to the daisy genus, having an outer fringe of white ray florets, with a central yellow disk, in which lies the chief medicinal virtue of the plant. In the cultivated Chamomile the white petals increase, while the yellow centre diminishes; thus it is that the curative properties of the wild Chamomile are the more powerful. The true Chamomile is to be distinguished from the bitter Chamomile (matricaria chamomilla) which has weaker properties, and grows erect, with several flowers at a level on the same stalk. The true Chamomile grows prostrate, and produces but [85] one flower (with a convex, not conical, yellow disk) from each stem, whilst its leaves are divided into hair-like segments. The flowers exhale a powerful aromatic smell, and present a peculiar bitter to the taste. When distilled with water they yield a small quantity of most useful essential oil, which, if fresh and good, is always of a bluish colour. It should be green or blue, and not faded to yellow. This oil is a mixture of ethers, among which "chamomilline," or the valerianate of butyl, predominates. Medicinally it serves to lower nervous excitability reflected from some organ in trouble, but remote from the part where the pain is actually felt; so it is very useful for such spasmodic coughs as are due to indigestion; also for distal neuralgia, pains in the head or limbs from the same cause, and for nervous colic bowels. The oil may be given in doses of from two to four drops on a lump of sugar, or in a dessert-spoonful of milk. An officinal tincture (Tinctura anthemidis) is made from the flowers of the true Chamomile (Anthemis nobilis) with rectified spirit of wine. The dose of this is from three to ten drops with a spoonful of water. It serves usefully to correct the summer diarrhoea of children, or that which occurs during teething, when the stools are green, slimy and particoloured. The true Chamomile, the bitter Chamomile, and the Feverfew, are most obnoxious to flies and mosquitoes. An infusion of their respective leaves in spirit will, if used as a wash to the face, arms, or any exposed part of the body, protect effectually from all attack by these petty foes, which are quaintly described in an old version of our Bible as "the pestilence that walketh in the darkness, and the bug that destroyeth at noonday." Chamomile tea is an excellent stomachic when taken in moderate doses of half-a-teacupful at a [86] time. It should be made by pouring half-a-pint of boiling water on half-an-ounce of the dried flower heads, and letting this stand for fifteen minutes, A special tincture (H.) of Chammomilla is made from the bitter Chamomile (Matricaria), which, when given in small doses of three or four drops in a dessertspoonful of cold water every hour, will signally relieve severe neuralgic pains, particularly if they are aggravated at night. Likewise this remedy will quickly cure restlessness and fretfulness in children from teething, and who refuse to be soothed save by being carried about.

The name, Matricaria, of the bitter Chamomile is derived from mater cara, "beloved mother," because the herb is dedicated to St. Anne, the reputed mother of the Virgin Mary, or from matrix, as meaning "the womb." This herb may be known from the true Chamomile because having a large, yellow, conical disk, and no scales on the receptacles.

Chamomile tea is also an excellent drink for giving to aged persons an hour or more before dinner. Francatelli directs that it should be made thus: "Put about thirty flowers into a jug, and pour a pint of boiling water on them; cover up the tea, and when it has stood for about ten minutes pour it off from the flowers into another jug, and sweeten with sugar or honey." A teacupful of this Chamomile tea, into which is stirred a large dessertspoonful of moist sugar, with a little grated ginger added, will answer the purpose now indicated. For outward application, to relieve inflammatory pains, or congestive neuralgia, hot fomentations made of the infused Chamomile "blows" are invaluable. Bags may be loosely stuffed with the flowers, and steeped well in boiling water before being applied. But for internal use the infusion and the extract of the herb are comparatively [87] useless, because much of the volatile essential oil is dissipated by boiling, or by dry heat. This oil made into pills with bread crumbs, and given whilst fasting two hours before a meal, will effectually dispel intestinal worms. True Chamomile flowers may be known from spurious ones (of the Feverfew) which have no bracts on the receptacle when the florets are removed.

It is remarkable that each Chamomile is a plant Physician, as nothing contributes so much to the health of a garden as a number of Chamomile herbs dispersed about it. Singularly enough, if another plant is drooping, and apparently dying, in nine cases out of ten it will recover if you place a herb of Chamomile near it.

The stinking Chamomile (Anthemis cotula) or Mayweed, grows in cornfields, having a foetid smell, and often blistering the hand which gathers it. Another name which it bears is "dog's fennel," because of the disagreeable odour, and the leaf resembling fennel. Similar uses may be made of it as with the other Chamomiles, but less effectively. It has solitary flowers with erect stems.

Dr. Schall declares that the Chamomile is not only a preventive of nightmare, but the sole certain remedy for this complaint. As a carminative injection for tiresome flatulence, it has been found eminently beneficial to employ Chamomile flowers boiled in tripe broth, and strained through a cloth, and with a few drops of the oil of Aniseed added to the decoction.

Falstaffe says in Henry IV.: "Though Chamomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows; yet youth, the more it is wasted the sooner it wears." For coarse feeders and drunkards Chamomile is peculiarly suitable. Its infusion will cut short an attack of delirium tremens in the early stage. Gerard found the oil of the flowers [88] a remedy against all weariness; and quaint old Culpeper reminds us that the Egyptians dedicated the Chamomile to the sun because it cured agues. He slyly adds: "They were like enough to do it, for they were the arrantest apes in their religion I ever read of."



CARROT.

Our garden Carrot, or Dauke, is a cultivated variety of the Dalucus sylvestris, or wild carrot, an umbelliferous plant, which groweth of itself in untoiled places, and is called philtron, because it serveth for love matters. This wild Carrot may be found abundantly in our fields and on the sea shore; the term Carrot being Celtic, and signifying "red of colour," or perhaps derived from caro, flesh, because this is a fleshy vegetable. Daucus is from the Greek daio, to burn, on account of the pungent and stimulating qualities. It is common also on our roadsides, being popularly known as "Bee's nest," because the stems of its flowering head, or umbel, form a concave semi-circle, or nest, which bees, when belated from the hive will use as a dormitory. The small purple flower which grows in the middle of the umbel has been found beneficial for the cure of epilepsy. The juice of the Carrot contains "carotine" in red crystals; also pectin, albumen, and a particular volatile oil, on which the medicinal properties of the root depend. The seeds are warm and aromatic to the taste, whilst they are slightly diuretic. A tea made from the whole plant, and taken each night and morning, is excellent when the lithic acid, or gouty disposition prevails, with the deposit of a brick-dust sediment in the urine on its becoming cool.

The chief virtues of Carrots lie in the strong antiseptic qualities they possess, which prevent all putrescent [89] changes within the body. In Suffolk they were given long since as a secret specific for preserving and restoring the wind of horses, but cows if fed long on them will make bloody urine. Wild Carrots are superior medicinally to those of the cultivated kind. Carrot sugar got from the inspissated juice of the roots may be used at table, and is good for the coughs of consumptive children. The seeds of the wild Carrot were formerly esteemed as a specific remedy for jaundice; and in Savoy the peasants now give an infusion of the roots for the same purpose; whilst this infusion has served to prevent stone in the bladder throughout several years when the patient had been previously subject to frequent attacks.

Carrots boiled sufficiently, and mashed into a pulp, when applied directly to a putrid, indolent sore, will sweeten and heal it. The Carrot poultice was first used by Sulzer for mitigating the pain, and correcting the stench of foul ulcers. Raw scraped Carrot is an excellent plaster for chapped nipples. At Vichy, where derangements of the liver and of the biliary digestion are particularly treated, Carrots in one or another form are served at every meal, whether in soup, or as a vegetable; and considerable efficacy of cure is attributed to them. In the time of Parkinson (1640) the leaves of the Carrot were thought to be so ornamental that ladies wore them as a head-dress instead of feathers. A good British wine may be brewed from the roots of the Carrot; and very tolerable bread may be prepared for travellers from these roots when dried and powdered. Pectic acid can be extracted by the chemist from Carrots, which will solidify plain sugared water into a wholesome appetising jelly. One part of this pectic acid dissolved in a little hot water, and added to make three hundred parts of warm water, [90] is soon converted into a mass of trembling jelly. The yellow core of the Carrot is the part which is difficult of digestion with some persons, not the outer red layer. Before the French Revolution the sale of Carrots and oranges was prohibited in the Dutch markets, because of the unpopular aristocratic colour of these commodities. In one thousand parts of a Carrot there are ninety-five of sugar, and (according to some chemists) only three of starch. In country districts raw Carrots are sometimes given to children for expelling worms, probably because the vegetable matter passes mechanically through the body unchanged, and scours it. "Remember, William," says Sir Hugh Evans in the Merry Wives of Windsor, "Focative is Caret," "and that" replies Mrs. Quickly, "is a good root."

"The man in the moon drinks claret, But he is a dull Jack-a-dandy; Would he know a sheep's head from a Carrot He should learn to drink cider and brandy." Song of Mad Tom in Midsummer Night's Dream.



CELANDINE (Greater, and Lesser).

This latter flower is a conspicuous herald of spring, which is strikingly welcome to everyone living in the country throughout England, and a stranger to none. The Pilewort, or lesser Celandine, bespangles all our banks with its brilliant, glossy, golden stars, coming into blossom on or about March 7th, St. Perpetua's day. They are a timely tocsin for five o'clock tea, because punctually at that hour they shut up their showy petals until 9.0 a.m. on the following morning. The well-known little herb, with its heart-shaped leaves, is a Ranunculus, and bears the affix ficaria from its curative value in the malady called ficus—a "red sore in the fundament". (Littleton, 1684).

[91] The popular title, Pilewort, from Pila, a ball, was probably first acquired because, after the doctrine of signatures, the small oval tubercles attached to its stringy roots were supposed to resemble and to cure piles. Nevertheless, it has been since proved practically that the whole plant, when bruised and made into an ointment with fresh lard, is really useful for healing piles; as likewise when applied to the part in the form of a poultice or hot fomentation. "There be those also who thinke that if the herbe be but carried about by one that hath the piles the paine forthwith ceaseth." It has sometimes happened that the small white tubercles collected about the roots of the plant, when washed bare by heavy rains, and lying free on the ground, have given rise to a supposed shower of wheat. After flowering the Pilewort withdraws its substance of leaf and stem into a small rounded tube underground, so as to withstand the heat of summer, and the cold of the subsequent winter.

With the acrid juice of this herb, and of others belonging to the same Ranunculous order, beggars in England used to produce sores about their body for the sake of exciting pity, and getting alms. They afterwards cured these sores by applying fresh mullein leaves to heal them. The lesser Celandine furnishes a golden yellow volatile oil, which is readily converted into anemonic acid.

Wordsworth specially loved this lesser Celandine, and turned his lyre to sing its praises:—

"There is a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine; I will sing as doth behove Hymns in praise of what I love."

In token of which affectionate regard these flowers have been carved on the white marble of his tomb.

[92] The greater Celandine, or Coeli donum (Chelidonium majus), though growing freely in our waste places and hedgerows, is, perhaps, scarcely so well known as its diminutive namesake. Yet most persons acquainted with our ordinary rural plants have repeatedly come across this conspicuous herb, which exudes a bright yellow juice when bruised. It has sharply cut vivid leaves of a dull green, with a small blossom of brilliant yellow, and is not altogether unlike a buttercup, though growing to the height of a couple of feet. But this Celandine belongs to the Poppy tribe, whilst the Buttercup is a Ranunculus. The technical name of the greater Celandine (Chelidonium) comes from the Greek word Chelidon, a swallow, because of an ancient tradition that the bird makes use of this herb to open the eyes of its young, or to restore their sight when it has been lost:—