"Caecatis pullis hac lumina mater hirundo (Plinius ut scripsit) quamvis sint eruta, reddit."

The ancients entertained a strong belief that birds are gifted with a knowledge of herbs; the woodpecker, for instance, seeking out the Springwort to remove obstructions, and the linnet making use of the Eyebright to restore its vision.

Queen Elizabeth in the forty-sixth year of her age was attacked with such a grievous toothache that she could obtain no rest by night or day because of the torture she endured. The lords of her council decided on sending for an "outlandish physician" named Penatus, who was famous for curing this agonising pain. He advised that when all was said and done, if the tooth was hollow, it were best to have it drawn; but as Her Majesty could not bring herself to submit to the use of [93] chirugical instruments, he suggested that the Chelidonius major—our greater Celandine— should be put into the tooth, and this stopped with wax, which would so loosen the tooth that in a short time it might be pulled out with the fingers. Aylmer, Bishop of London, tried to encourage the Queen by telling her that though he was an old man, and had not many teeth to spare, she should see a practical experiment made on himself. Thereupon he bade the surgeon who was in attendance extract one of his teeth in Her Majesty's presence.

This plant, the Chelidonium majus, is still used in Suffolk for toothache by way of fomentation. It goes also by the name of "Fenugreek" (Foenum Groecum), Yellow Spit, Grecian Hay, and by that of Tetterwort. The root contains chemically "chelidonin" and "sanguinarin."

On the doctrine of signatures the herb, because of its bright orange-coloured juice, was formerly believed to be curative of jaundice. A medicinal tincture (H.) made from the entire plant with spirit of wine is at the present time held in high esteem by many physicians for overcoming torpid conditions of the liver. Eight or ten drops of this tincture, or of the fresh juice of the plant, may be given for a dose three times in the day in sweetened water when bilious yellowness of the skin is present, with itching, and with clayey stools, dark thick urine, constipation, and a pain in the right shoulder; also for neuralgia of the head and face on the right side. It is certainly remarkable that though the fanciful theory of choosing curative plants by their signatures has been long since exploded, yet doctors of to-day select several yellow medicines for treating biliary disorders—to wit, this greater Celandine with its ochreous juice; the Yellow Barberry; the Dandelion; [94] the Golden Seal (Hydrastis); the Marigold; Orange; Saffron; and Tomato. Animals poisoned by the greater Celandine have developed active and pernicious congestion of the lungs and liver. Clusius found by experience that the juice of the greater Celandine, when squeezed into small green wounds of what sort so ever, wonderfully cured them. "If the juice to the bigness of a pin's head be dropped into the eye in the morning in bed, it takes away outward specks, and stops incipient suffusions." Also if the yellow juice is applied to warts, or to corns, first gently scraped, it will cure them promptly and painlessly. The greater Celandine is by genus closely allied to the horned Poppy which grows so abundantly on our coasts. Its tincture given in small doses proves of considerable service in whooping-cough when very spasmodic.

Curious remedies for this complaint have found rustic favour: in Yorkshire owl broth is considered to be a specific; again in Gloucestershire a roasted mouse is given to be eaten by the patient; and in Staffordshire the child is made to look at the new moon whilst the right hand of the nurse is rubbed up and down its bare belly.



CELERY.

The Parsleys are botanically named Selinon, and by some verbal accident, through the middle letter "n" in this word being changed into "r," making it Seliron, or, in the Italian, Celeri, our Celery (which is a Parsley) obtained its title. It is a cultivated variety of the common Smallage (Small ache) or wild Celery (Apium graveolens), which grows abundantly in moist English ditches, or in water. This is an umbelliferous herb, unwholesome as a food, and having a coarse root, with [95] a fetid smell. But, like many others of the same natural order, when transplanted into the garden, and bleached, it becomes aromatic and healthful, making an excellent condimentary vegetable. But more than this, the cultivated Celery may well take rank as a curative Herbal Simple. Dr. Pereira has shown us that it contains sulphur (a known preventive of rheumatism) as freely as do the cruciferous plants, Mustard, and the Cresses. In 1879, Mr. Gibson Ward, then President of the Vegetarian Society, wrote some letters to the Times, which commanded much attention, about Celery as a food and a medicament. "Celery," said he, "when cooked, is a very fine dish, both as a nutriment and as a purifier of the blood; I will not attempt to enumerate all the marvellous cures I have made with Celery, lest medical men should be worrying me en masse. Let me fearlessly say that rheumatism is impossible on this diet; and yet English doctors in 1876 allowed rheumatism to kill three thousand six hundred and forty human beings, every death being as unnecessary as is a dirty face."

The seeds of our Sweet Celery are carminative, and act on the kidneys. An admirable tincture is made from these seeds, when bruised, with spirit of wine; of which a teaspoonful may be taken three times a day, with a spoonful or two of water. The root of the Wild Celery, Smallage, or Marsh Parsley, was reckoned, by the ancients, one of the five great aperient roots, and was employed in their diet drinks. The Great Parsley is the Large Age, or Large Ache; as a strange inconsistency the Romans adorned the heads of their guests, and the tombs of their dead with crowns of the Smallage. Our cultivated Celery is a capital instance of fact that most of the poisonous plants call, by [96] human ingenuity, be so altered in character as to become eminently serviceable for food or medicine. Thus, the Wild Celery, which is certainly poisonous when growing exposed to daylight, becomes most palatable, and even beneficial, by having its edible leaf stalks earthed up and bleached during their time of cultivation.

Dr. Pereira says the digestibility of Celery is increased by its maceration in vinegar. As taken at table, Celery possesses certain qualities which tend to soothe nervous irritability, and to relieve sick headaches. "This herb Celery [Sellery] is for its high and grateful taste," says John Evelyn, in his Acetaria, "ever placed in the middle of the grand sallet at our great men's tables, and our Praetor's feasts, as the grace of the whole board." It contains some sugar and a volatile odorous principle, which in the wild plant smells and tastes strongly and disagreeably. The characteristic odour and flavour of the cultivated plant are due to this essential oil, which has now become of modified strength and qualities; also when freshly cut it affords albumen, starch, mucilage, and mineral matter. Why Celery accompanies cheese at the end of dinner it is not easy to see. This is as much a puzzle as why sucking pig and prune sauce should be taken in combination,—of which delicacies James Bloomfield Rush, the Norwich murderer, desired that plenty should be served for his supper the night before he was hanged, on April 20th, 1849.



CENTAURY.

Of all the bitter appetising herbs which grow in our fields and hedgerows, and which serve as excellent simple tonics, the Centaury, particularly its white flowered variety, belonging to the Gentian order of [97] plants, is the most efficacious. It shares in an abundant measure the restorative antiseptic virtues of the Field Gentian and the Buckbean. There are four wild varieties of the Centaury, square stemmed, and each bearing flat tufts of flowers which are more or less rose coloured. The ancients named this bitter plant the Gall of the Earth, and it is now known as Christ's Ladder, or Felwort.

Though growing commonly in dry pastures, in woods, and on chalky cliffs, yet the Centaury cannot be reared in a garden. Of old its tribe was called "Chironia," after Chiron, the Greek Centaur, well skilled in herbal physic; and most probably the name of our English plant was thus originated. But the Germans call the Centaury Tausendgulden kraut—"the herb of a thousand florins,"—either because of its medicinal value, or as a corruption of Centum aureum, "a hundred golden sovereigns." Centaury has become popularly reduced in Worcestershire to Centre of the Sun. Its generic adjective "erythroea" signifies red. The flowers open only in fine weather, and not after twelve o'clock (noon) in the day. Chemically the herb contains erythrocentaurin—a bitter principle of compound character,—together with the usual herbal constituents, but with scarcely any tannin. The tops of the Centaury, especially of that flore albo—with the light coloured petals—are given in infusion, or in powder, or when made into an extract. For languid digestion, with heartburn after food, and a want of appetite, the infusion prepared with cold water, an ounce of the herb to a pint is best; but for muscular rheumatism the infusion should be made with boiling water. A wineglass of either will be the proper dose, two or three times a day.



[98] CHERRY.

The wild Cherry (Cerasus), which occurs of two distinct kinds, has by budding and grafting begotten most of our finest garden fruits of its genus. The name Cerasus was derived from Kerasous, a city of Cappadocia, where the fruit was plentiful. According to Pliny, Cherries were first brought to Rome by Lucullus after his great victory over Mithridates, 89 B.C. The cultivated Cherry disappeared in this country during the Saxon period, and was not re-introduced until the reign of Henry VIII. The Cerasus sylvestris is a wild Cherry tree rising to the height of thirty or forty feet, and producing innumerable small globose fruits; whilst the Cerasus vulgaris, another wild Cherry, is a mere shrub, called Cerevisier in France, of which the fruit is sour and bitter. Cherry stones have been found in the primitive lake dwellings of Western Switzerland. There is a tradition that Christ gave a Cherry to St. Peter, admonishing him not to despise little things. In the time of Charles the First, Herrick, the clergyman poet, wrote a simple song, to which our well-known pretty "Cherry Ripe" has been adapted:—

"Cherry ripe! ripe! I cry, Full and fair ones I come, and buy! If so be you ask me where They do grow: I answer there Where my Julia's lips do smile, There's the land: a cherry isle."

"Cherries on the ryse" (or, on twigs) was well known as a London street cry in the fifteenth century; but these were probably the fruit of the wild Cherry, or Gean tree. In France soup made from Cherries, and taken with bread, is the common sustenance of the wood cutters and charcoal burners of the forest during the [99] winter. The French distil from Cherries a liqueur named Eau de Cerises, or, in German, Kirschwasser; whilst the Italians prepare from a Cherry called Marusca the liqueur noted as Marasquin. Cherries termed as Mazzards are grown in Devon and Cornwall, A gum exudes from the bark of the Cherry tree which is equal in value to gum arabic. A caravan going from Ethiopia to Egypt, says Husselquist, and a garrison of more than two hundred men during a siege which lasted two months, were kept alive with no other food than this gum, "which they sucked often and slowly." It is known chemically as "cerasin," and differs from gum acacia in being less soluble.

The leaves of the tree and the kernels of the fruit contain a basis of prussic acid.

The American wild Cherry (Prunus virginiana) yields from its bark a larger quantity of the prussic acid principle, which is sedative to the nervous centres, and also some considerable tannin. As an infusion, or syrup, or vegetable extract, it will allay nervous palpitation of the heart, and will quiet the irritative hectic cough of consumption, whilst tending to ameliorate the impaired digestion. Its preparations can be readily had from our leading druggists, and are found to be highly useful. A teaspoonful of the syrup, with one or two tablespoonfuls of cold water, is a dose for an adult every three or four hours. The oozing of the gum-tears from the trunk and boughs is due to the operation of a minute parasitic fungus. Helena, in the Midsummer Night's Dream, paints a charming picture of the close affection between Hermia and herself—

"So we grew together Like to a double Cherry-seeming parted, But yet a union in partition: Two lovely berries moulded on one stem."



CHERVIL, or BEAKED PARSLEY.

"There is found," writes Parkinson, "during June and July, in almost every English hedge, a certain plant called Choerophyllum, in show very like unto Hemlockes, of a good and pleasant smell and taste, which have caused us to term it 'Sweet Chervill.'" And in modern times this plant has taken rank as a pot herb in our gardens, though its virtues and uses are not sufficiently known. "The root is great, thick and long, exceedingly sweet in smell, and tasting like unto anise seeds. This root is much used among the Dutch people in a kind of loblolly or hotchpot, which they do eat, calling it warmus. The seeds taken as a salad whilst they are yet green, exceed all other salads by many degrees in pleasantness of taste, sweetness of smell, and wholesomeness for the cold and feeble stomach." In common with other camphoraceous and strongly aromatic herbs, by reason of its volatile oil and its terebinthine properties, the Scandix, or Sweet Chervil, was entitled to make one of the choice spices used for composing the holy oil with which the sacred vessels of the Tabernacle were anointed by Moses. It belongs to the particular group of umbelliferous plants which is endowed with balsamic gums, and with carminative essences appealing powerfully to the sense of smell.

The herb Chervil was in the mind of Roman Catullus when discoursing sweet verses of old to his friend Fabullus:—

"Nam unguentum dabo quod meoe puelloe Donarunt veneres, cupidinesque. Quod tu quum olfacies deo rogabis Totum ut te faciat. Fabulle! nasum."

"I will give you a perfume my damsels gave me, Sweet daughters of Venus, sad hoydens are ye! Which the moment you smell will incite you to pray My Fabullus! to live as 'all nose' from that day."

Evelyn taught (1565) that "the tender tops of Cherville should never be wanting in our sallets, being exceeding wholesome, and chearing the spirits; also that the roots boiled and cold are to be much commended for aged persons." But in 1745 several Dutch soldiers were poisoned by eating the rough wild Chervil, from which the cultivated sweet variety is to be distinguished by its having its stems swollen beneath the joints—much as our blue-blooded patricians are signalised by gouty knuckles and bunioned feet.

The botanical name of the Sweet Chervil (Choerophyllum) signifies a plant which rejoices the heart—Kairei-phyllum. "The roots," said an old writer, "are very good for old people that are dull and without courage; they gladden and comfort the spirits, and do increase their lusty strength." The juice is slightly aperient, and abundantly lacteal when mixed with goat's milk, or in gruel. Physicians formerly held this herb in high esteem, as capable of curing most chronic disorders connected with the urinary passages, and gravel. Some have even asserted that if these distempers will not yield to a constant use of Chervil, they win be scarcely curable by any other medicine. The Wild Chervil will "help to dissolve any tumours or swellings in all parts of the body speedily, if applied to the place, as also to take away the spots and marks in the flesh and skin, of congealed blood by blows or bruises." The feathery leaves of Chervil, which are of a bright emerald hue in the spring, become of a rich purple in the autumn, just as the objectionably carroty locks of Tittlebat Titmouse, in Ten Thousand a Year, became vividly green under "Cyanochaitanthropopoin," and were afterwards strangely empurpled by "Tetragmenon abracadabra," at nine and sixpence the bottle.



[102] CHESTNUTS (Horse, and Sweet).

Ever since 1633 the Horse Chestnut tree has grown and flourished in England, having been brought at first from the mountains of Northern Asia. For the most part it is rather known and admired for its wealth of shade, its large handsome floral spikes of creamy, pink-tinted blossom, and its white, soft wood, than supposed to exercise useful medicinal properties. But none the less is this tree remarkable for the curative virtues contained in its large nuts of mahogany polish, its broad palmate leaves, and its smooth silvery bark. These virtues have been discovered and made public especially by physicians and chemists of the homoeopathic school. From the large digitated leaves an extract is made which has proved of service in whooping-cough, and of which from one-third to half a teaspoonful may be given for a dose. On the Continent the bark is held in estimation for cutting short attacks of intermittent fever and ague by acting in the same way as Peruvian bark, though it is much more astringent. But the nuts are chiefly to be regarded as the medicinal belongings of the Horse Chestnut tree; and their bodily sphere of action is the rectum, or lower bowel, in cases of piles, and of obstinate constipation. Their use is particularly indicated when the bottom of the back gives out on walking, with aching and a sense of weariness in that region. Likewise, signal relief is found to be wrought by the same remedy when the throat is duskily red and dry, in conjunction with costiveness, and piles. A tincture is made (H.) from the ripe nuts with spirit of wine, for the purposes described above, or the nuts themselves are finely powdered and given in that form. These nuts are starchy, and contain so much potash, that they may be used when boiled for washing purposes. [103] In France and Switzerland they are employed for cleansing wool and bleaching linen, on account of their "saponin." Botanically, the Horse Chestnut is named AEsculus hippocastanea—the first word coming from esca, food; and the second from hippos, a horse; and Castana, the city, so called. The epithet "horse" does not imply any remedial use in diseases of that animal, but rather the size and coarseness of this species as compared with the Sweet Spanish Chestnut. In the same way we talk of the horse radish, the horse daisy, and the horse leech. In Turkey the fruit is given to horses touched or broken in the wind, but in this country horses will not eat it. Nevertheless, Horse Chestnuts may be used for fattening cattle, particularly sheep, the nuts being cut up, and mixed with oats, or beans. Their bitterness can be removed by first washing the Chestnuts in lime water. Medicinally, the ripe nut of this tree is employed, being collected in September or October, and deprived of its shell. The odour of the flowers is powerful and peculiar. No chemical analysis of them, or of the nuts, has been made, but they are found to contain tannin freely. Rich-coloured, of a reddish brown, and glossy, these nuts have given their name to a certain shade of mellow dark auburn hair. Rosalind, in As You Like It, says "Orlando's locks are of a good colour: I' faith your Chestnut was ever the only colour."

Of the Horse Chestnut tincture, two or three drops, with a spoonful of water, taken before meals and at bedtime, will cure almost any simple case of piles in a week. Also, carrying a Horse Chestnut about the person, is said to obviate giddiness, and to prevent piles.

Taken altogether, the Horse Chestnut, for its splendour of blossom, and wealth of umbrageous leaf, [104] its polished mahogany fruit, and its special medicinal virtues, is facile princeps the belle of our English trees. But, like many a ball-room beauty, when the time comes for putting aside the gay leafy attire, it is sadly untidy, and makes a great litter of its cast-off clothing.

It has been ingeniously suggested that the cicatrix of the leaf resembles a horse-shoe, with all its nails evenly placed.

The Sweet Spanish Chestnut tree is grown much less commonly in this country, and its fruit affords only material for food, without possessing medicinal properties; though, in the United States of America, an infusion of the leaves is thought to be useful for staying the paroxysms of whooping-cough. Of all known nuts, this (the Sweet Chestnut, Stover Nut, or Meat Nut) is the most farinaceous and least oily; hence it is more easy of digestion than any other. To mountaineers it is invaluable, so that on the Apennines and the Pyrenees the Chestnut harvest is the event of the year. The Italian Chestnut-cakes, called necci, contain forty per cent. of nutritious matter soluble in cold water; and Chestnut flour, when properly prepared, is a capital food for children.

To be harvested the Chestnuts are spread on a frame of lattice-work overhead, and a fire is kept burning underneath. When dry the fruit is boiled, or steamed, or roasted, or ground into a kind of flour, with which puddings are made, or an excellent kind of bread is produced. The ripe Chestnut possesses a fine creamy flavour, and when roasted it becomes almost aromatic. A good way to cook Chestnuts is to boil them for twenty minutes, and then place them for five minutes more in a Dutch oven.

It was about the fruit of the Spanish tree Shakespeare [105] said: "A woman's tongue gives not half so great a blow to the ear as will a Chestnut in a farmer's fire." In the United States of America an old time-worn story, or oft repeated tale, is called in banter a "Chestnut," and a stale joker is told "not to rattle the Chestnuts."

For convalescents, after a long serious illness, the French make a chocolate of sweet Chestnuts, which is highly restorative. The nuts are first cooked in eau de vie until their shells and the pellicle of the kernels can be peeled off; then they are beaten into a pulp together with sufficient milk and sugar, with some cinnamon added. The mixture is afterwards boiled with more milk, and frothed up in a chocolate pot.



CHICKWEED.

Chickweed—called Alsine or Stellaria media, a floral star of middle magnitude—belongs to the Clove-pink order of plants, and, despite the most severe weather, grows with us all the year round, in waste places by the roadsides, and as a garden weed. It is easily known by its fresh-looking, juicy, verdant little leaves, and by its tiny white star-like flowers; also by a line of small stiff hairs, which runs up one side of the stalk like a vegetable hog-mane, and when it reaches a pair of leaves immediately shifts its position, and runs up higher on the opposite side.

The fact of our finding Chickweed (and Groundsel) in England, as well as on the mainland of Europe, affords a proof that Britain, when repeopled after the great Ice age, must have been united somewhere to the continent; and its having lasted from earliest times throughout Europe, North America, and Siberia, seems to show that this modest plant must be possessed of some universal utility which has enabled it to hold its own [106] until now in the great evolutionary struggle. It grows wild allover the earth, and serves as food for small birds, such as finches, linnets, and other feathered songsters of the woods. Moreover, we read in the old herbal of Turner: Qui alunt aviculas caveis inclusas hoc solent illas si quando cibos fastigiant recreare—or, as Gerard translates this: "Little birds in cages are refreshed with Chickweed when they loath their meat."

The Chickweed is termed Alsine—quia lucos, vel alsous amat— because it loves to grow in shady places This small herb abounds with the earthy salts of potash, which are admirable against scurvy when thus found in nature's laboratory, and a continued deprivation from which always proves disastrous to mankind. "The water of Chickweed," says an old writer, "is given to children for their fits, and its juice is used for their gripes." When boiled, the plant may be eaten instead of Spinach. Its fresh juice if rubbed on warts, first pared to the quick, will presently cause them to fall off.

Fresh Chickweed juice, as proved medicinally in 1893, produced sharp rheumatic pains and stitches in the head and eyes, with a general feeling of being bruised; also pressure about the liver and soreness there, with sensations of burning, and of bilious indigestion. Subsequently, the herb, when given in quite small doses of tincture, or fresh juice, or infusion, has been found by its affinity to remove the train of symptoms just described, and to act most reliably in curing obstinate rheumatism allied therewith. Furthermore, a poultice prepared from the fresh green juicy leaves, is emollient and cooling, whilst an ointment made from them with hog's lard, is manifestly healing.

When rain is impending, the flowers remain closed; [107] and the plant teaches an exemplary matrimonial lesson, seeing that at night its leaves approach one another in loving pairs, and sleep with the tender buds protected between them. Culpeper says: "Chickweed is a fine, soft, pleasing herb, under the dominion of the moon, and good for many things." Parkinson orders thus: "To make a salve fit to heal sore legs, boil a handful of Chickweed with a handful of red rose leaves in a pint of the oil of trotters or sheep's feet, and anoint the grieved places therewith against a fire each evening and morning; then bind some of the herb, if ye will, to the sore, and so shall ye find help, if God will."



CHRISTMAS ROSE—BLACK HELLEBORE.

This well-known plant, a native of Southern Europe, and belonging to the Ranunculus order, is grown commonly in our gardens for the sake of its showy white flowers, conspicuous in winter, from December to February. The root has been famous since time immemorial as a remedy for insanity. From its abundant growth in the Grecian island of Anticyra arose the proverb: Naviget Anticyram—"Take a voyage to Anticyra," as applied by way of advice to a man who has lost his reason.

When fresh the root is very acrid, and will blister the skin. If dried and given as powder it will cause vomiting and purging, also provoking sneezing when smelt, and inducing the monthly flow of a woman. This root contains a chemical glucoside—"helleborin," which, if given in full doses, stimulates the kidneys to such an excess that their function becomes temporarily paralyzed. It therefore happens that a medicinal tincture (H.) made from the fresh root collected at Christmas, just before the plant would flower, when [108] taken in small doses, will promptly relieve dropsy, especially a sudden dropsical swelling of the skin, with passive venous congestion of the kidneys, as in scrofulous children.

A former method of administering the root was by sticking a particularly sweet apple full of its fibres, and roasting this under hot embers; then the fibres were withdrawn, and the apple was eaten by the patient.

Taken by mischance in any quantity the root is highly poisonous: one ounce of a watery decoction has caused death in eight hours, with vomiting, giddiness, insensibility, and palsy. Passive dropsy in children after scarlet fever may be effectually cured by small doses of the tincture, third decimal strength.

The name Hellebore, as applied to the plant, comes from the Greek Elein—to injure, and Bora—fodder. It is also known as Melampodium, being thus designated because Melampus, a physician in the Peloponnesus (B.C. 1530) watched the effect on his goats when they had eaten the leaves, and cured therewith the insane daughters of Proetus, King of Argos.

It was famous among the Egyptian and Greek doctors of old as the most effectual remedy for the diseases of mania, epilepsy, apoplexy, dropsy, and gout. The tincture is very useful in mental stupor, with functional impairment of the hearing and sight; likewise for strumous water on the brain.

The original reputation of this herb was acquired because of its purgative properties, which enabled it to carry off black bile which was causing insanity.

No tannin is contained in the root. A few drops of the juice obtained therefrom, if dropped warm into the ear each night and morning, will cure singing and noises in the ears. A proper dose of the powdered root [109] is from five to ten grains. Snuff made with this powder has cured night blindness, as among the French prisoners at Norman Cross in 1806. The Gauls used to rub the points of their hunting spears with Hellebore, believing the game they killed was thus rendered more tender. Hahnemann said that at least one third of the cases of insanity occurring in lunatic asylums may be cured by this and the white Hellebore (an allied plant) in such small doses as of the tincture twelfth dilution, given in the patient's drink.

A bastard Hellebore, which is foetidus, or, "stinking," and is known to rustics as Bearsfoot, because of its digitate leaves, grows frequently near houses in this country, though a doubtful native. The sepals of its flowers are purple, and the leaves are evergreen; the petals are green and leaf-like, whilst the nectaries are large and tubular, often containing small flies. The nectar is reputed to be poisonous. Again, this plant bears the names Pegroots, Oxbeel, Oxheal, and Setterwort, because used for "settering" cattle. A piece of the root is inserted as a seton (so-called from seta—a hank of silk) into the dewlap, and this is termed "pegging," or, "settering," for the benefit of diseased lungs. "The root," says Gerard, "consists of many small black strings, involved or wrapped one within another very intricately." The smell of the fresh plant is extremely fetid, and, when taken, it will purge, or provoke vomiting. The leaves are very useful for expelling worms. Dr. Woodville says their juice made into a syrup, with coarse sugar, is almost the only vermifuge he had used against round worms for three years past. "If these leaves be dried in an oven after the bread is drawne out, and the powder thereof be taken in a figge, or raisin, or strewed upon a piece of [110] bread spread with honey, and eaten, it killeth worms in children exceedingly." A decoction made with one drachm of the green leaves, or about fifteen grains of the dried leaves in powder, is the usual dose for a child between four and six years of age; but a larger dose will provoke sickness, or diarrhoea. The medicine should be repeated on two or three consecutive mornings; and it will be found that the second dose acts more powerfully than the first, "never failing to expel round worms by stool, if there be any lodged in the alimentary tube."



CLOVER.

In this country we possess about twenty species of the trefoil, or Clover, which is a plant so well known in its general features by its abundance in every field and on every grass plot, as not to need any detailed description. The special variety endowed with medicinal and curative virtues, is the Meadow Clover (Trifolium pratense), or red clover, called by some, Cocksheads, and familiar to children as Suckles, or Honey-suckles, because of the abundant nectar in the long tubes of its corollae. Other names for it are Bee-bread, and Smere. An extract of this red clover is now confidently said to have the power of healing scrofulous sores, and of curing cancer. The New York Tribune of September, 1884, related a case of indisputable cancer of the breast of six years' standing, with an open fetid sore, which had penetrated the chest-wall between the ribs, and which was radically healed by a prolonged internal use of the extract of red clover. Four years afterwards, in September, 1888, "the breast was found to be restored to its normal condition, all but a small place the size of half a dollar, which will in every probability become absorbed like [111] the rest, so that the patient is considered by her physicians to be absolutely cured."

The likelihood is that whatever virtue the red clover can boast for counteracting a scrofulous disposition, and as antidotal to cancer, resides in its highly-elaborated lime, silica, and other earthy salts. Moreover, this experience is not new. Sir Spencer Wells, twenty years ago, recorded some cases of confirmed cancer cured by taking powdered and triturated oyster shells; whilst egg shells similarly reduced to a fine dust have proved equally efficacious. It is remarkable that if the moorlands in the North of England, and in some parts of Ireland, are turned up for the first time, and strewed with lime, white clover springs up there in abundance.

Again, a syrup is made from the flowers of the red clover, which has a trustworthy reputation for curing whooping-cough, and of which a teaspoonful may be taken three or four times in the day. Also stress is laid on the healing of skin eruptions in children, by a decoction of the purple and white meadow trefoils.

The word clover is a corruption of the Latin clava a club; and the "clubs" on our playing cards are representations of clover leaves; whilst in France the same black suit is called trefle.

A conventional trefoil is figured on our coins, both Irish and English, this plant being the National Badge of Ireland. Its charm has been ever supposed there as an unfailing protection against evil influences, as is attested by the spray in the workman's cap, and in the bosom of the cotter's wife.

The clover trefoil is in some measure a sensitive plant; "its leaves," said Pliny, "do start up as if afraid of an assault when tempestuous weather is at hand."

[112] The phrase, "living in clover," alludes to cattle being put to feed in rich pasturage.

A sworn foe to the purple clover cultivated by farmers, is the Dodder (Cuscuta trifolii), a destructive vegetable parasite which strangles the plants in a crafty fashion, and which goes by the name of "hellweed," or "devil's guts." It lies in ambush like a pigmy field octopus, with deadly suckers for draining the sap of its victims. These it mats together in its wiry, sinuous coils, and chokes relentlessly by the acre. Nevertheless, the petty garotter— like a toad, "ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in its head." "If boiled," says Hill, "with a little ginger, the dodder in decoction works briskly as a purge. Also, the thievish herb, when bruised and applied externally to scrofulous tumours, is an excellent remedy."

The word "dodder" signifies the plural of "dodd," a bunch of threads. The parasite is sometimes called "Red tangle" and "Lady's laces."

Its botanical name Cuscuta comes from the Greek Kassuo—to sew together. If the piece of land infested with it is closely mown (and the cut material carried away unshaken), being next covered with deal saw-dust, on which a ten per cent. solution of sulphate of iron is freely poured, then by combining with the tannin contained in the stems of the Dodder, this will serve to kill the parasite without doing any injury to the clover or lucerne. Although a parasite the plant springs every year from seed. It is a remedy for swooning or fainting fits.

The Sweet Clover (or yellow Melilot), when prepared as a tincture (H.), with spirit of wine, and given as a medicine in material doses, causes, in sensitive persons, a severe headache, sometimes with a determination of [113] blood to the head, and bleeding from the nose. When administered, on the principle of curative affinity, in much smaller doses, it is singularly beneficial against nervous headaches, with oppression of the brain, acting helpfully within five minutes. Dr. Hughes (Brighton) writes: "I value this medicine much in nervous headaches, and I always carry it in my pocket-case— as the mother tincture—which I generally administer by olfaction." For epilepsy, it is said in the United States of America to be "the one grand master-remedy," by giving a drop of the tincture every five minutes during the attack, and five drops five times a day in water, for some weeks afterwards.

The Melilot (from mel, honey, and lotus, because much liked by bees) is known as Plaster Clover from its use since Galen's time in plasters for dispersing tumours. Continental physicians still employ the same made of melilot, wax, resin, and olive oil. The plant contains, "Coumarin" in common with the Sweet Woodruff, and the Tonquin Bean. Other names for it are "Harts' Clover," because deer delight to feed on it and "King's Clover" or "Corona Regis," because "the yellow flouers doe crown the top of the stalkes as with a chaplet of gold." It is an herbaceous plant common in waste places, and having light green leaves; when dried it smells like Woodruff, or new hay.



CLUB MOSS.

Though not generally thought worth more than a passing notice, or to possess any claims of a medicinal sort, yet the Club Moss, which is of common growth in Great Britain on heaths and hilly pastures, exerts by its spores very remarkable curative effects, and [114] therefore it should be favourably regarded as a Herbal Simple. It is exclusively due to homoeopathic provings and practice, that the Lycopodium clavatum (Club Moss) takes an important position amongst the most curative vegetable remedies of the present day.

The word lycopodium means "wolf's claw," because of the claw-like ends to the trailing stems of this moss; and the word clavatum signifies that its inflorescence resembles a club. The spores of Club Moss constitute a fine pale-yellow, dusty powder which is unctuous, tasteless, inodorous, and only medicinal when pounded in all agate mortar until the individual spores, or nuts, are fractured.

By being thus triturated, the nuts give out their contents, which are shown to be oil globules, wherein the curative virtues of the moss reside. Sugar of milk is then rubbed up for two hours or more with the broken spores, so as to compose a medicinal powder, which is afterwards to be further diluted; or a tincture is made from the fractured spores, with spirit of ether, which will develop their specific medicinal properties. The Club Moss, thus prepared, has been experimentally taken by provers in varying material doses; and is found through its toxical affinities in this way to be remarkably useful for chronic mucous indigestion and mal-nutrition, attended with sallow complexion, slow, difficult digestion, flatulence, waterbrash, heartburn, decay of bodily strength, and mental depression. It is said that whenever a fan-like movement of the wings of the nostrils can be observed during the breathing, the whole group of symptoms thus detailed is specially curable by Club Moss.

As a dose of the triturated powder, reduced to a weaker dilution, ten grains may be taken twice a day [115] mixed with a dessertspoonful of water; or of the tincture largely reduced in strength, ten drops twice a day in like manner. Chemically, the oil globules extracted from the spores contain "alumina" and "phosphoric acid." The diluted powder has proved practically beneficial for reducing the swelling and for diminishing the pulsation of aneurism when affecting a main blood-vessel of the heart.

In Cornwall the Club Moss is considered good against most diseases of the eyes, provided it be gathered on the third day of the moon when first seen; being shown the knife whilst the gatherer repeats these words:—

"As Christ healed the issue of blood, Do thou cut what thou cut test for good."

"Then at sundown the Club Moss should be cut by the operator whilst kneeling, and with carefully washed hands. It is to be tenderly wrapped in a fair white cloth, and afterwards boiled in water procured from the spring nearest the spot where it grew," and the liquor is to be applied as a fomentation; or the Club Moss may be "made into an ointment with butter from the milk of a new cow." Such superstitious customs had without doubt a Druidic origin, and they identify the Club Moss with the Selago, or golden herb, "Cloth of Gold" of the Druids. This was reputed to confer the power of understanding the language of birds and beasts, and was intimately connected with some of their mysterious rites; though by others it is thought to have been a sort of Hedge Hyssop (Gratiola).

The Common Lycopodium bears in some, districts the name of "Robin Hood's hatband." Its unmoistenable powder from the spores is a capital absorbing application to weeping, raw surfaces. At the shops, this [116] powder of the Club Moss spores is sold as "witch meal," or "vegetable sulphur." For trade purposes it is obtained from the ears of a Wolfsfoot Moss, the Lycopodium clavatum, which grows in the forests of Russia and Finland. The powder is yellow of colour, dust-like and smooth to the touch. Half a drachm of it given during July in any proper vehicle has been esteemed "a noble remedy to cure stone in the bladder." Being mixed with black pepper, it was recognized by the College of Physicians in 1721 as a medicine of singular value for preventing and curing hydrophobia. Dr. Mead, who had repeated experience of its worth, declared that he never knew it to fail when combined with cold bathing.

Club Moss powder ignites with a flicker, and is used for stage lightning. It is the Blitzmehl, or lightning-meal of the Germans, who give it in doses of from fifteen to twenty grains for the cure of epilepsy in children.

When the "Mortal Struggle" was produced (see Nicholas Nickleby) by Mr. Vincent Crummles at Portsmouth, with the aid of Miss Snevelicci, and the Infant Phenomenon, lurid lightning was much in request to astonish the natives; and this was sufficiently well simulated by igniting, with a sudden flash and a hiss, highly inflammable spores of the Club Moss projected against burning tow within a hollow cone, producing weird scenic effects.



COLTSFOOT.

The Coltsfoot, which grows abundantly throughout England in places of moist, heavy soil, especially along the sides of our raised railway banks, has been justly termed "nature's best herb for the lungs, and her most eminent thoracic." Its seeds are supposed to have lain [117] dormant from primitive times, where our railway cuttings now upturn them and set them growing anew; and the rotting foliage of the primeval herb by retaining its juices, is thought to have promoted the development and growth of our common earthworm.

The botanical name of Coltsfoot is Tussilago farfara, signifying tussis ago, "I drive away a cold"; and farfar, the white poplar tree, which has a similar leaf. It is one of the Composite order, and the older authors named this plant, Filius ante patrem—"the son before the father," because the flowers appear and wither before the leaves are produced. These flowers, at the very beginning of Spring, stud the banks with gay, golden, leafless blossoms, each growing on a stiff scaly stalk, and resembling a dandelion in miniature. The leaves, which follow later on, are made often into cigars, or are smoked as British herbal tobacco, being mixed for this purpose with the dried leaves and flowers of the eye-bright, buckbean, betony, thyme, and lavender, to which some persons add rose leaves, and chamomile flowers. All these are rubbed together by the hands into a coarse powder, Coltsfoot forming quite one-half of the same; and this powder may be very beneficially smoked for asthma, or for spasmodic bronchial cough. Linnoeus said, "Et adhuc hodie plebs in Suecia, instar tabaci contra tussim fugit"—"Even to-day the Swiss people cure their coughs with Coltsfoot employed like tobacco." When the flowers are fully blown and fall off, the seeds with their "clock" form a beautiful head of white flossy silk, and if this flies away when there is no wind it is said to be a sure sign of coming rain. The Goldfinch often lines her nest with the soft pappus of the Coltsfoot. In Paris the Coltsfoot flower is painted on the doorposts of an apothecary's house.

[118] From earliest times, the plant has been found helpful in maladies of the chest. Hippocrates advised it with honey for "ulcerations of the lungs." Dioscorides, Pliny, and Galen, severally commended the use of its smoke, conducted into the mouth through a funnel or reed, for giving ease to cough and difficult breathing; they named it breechion, from breex, a cough.

In taste, the leaves are harsh, bitter, and mucilaginous. They appear late in March, being green above, with an undersurface which is white, and cottony. Sussex peasants esteem the white down of the leaves as a most valuable medicine.

All parts of the plant contain chemically tannin, with a special bitter principle, and free mucilage; so that the herb is to be considered emollient, demulcent, and tonic. Dr. Cullen employed a decoction of the leaves with much benefit in scrofula, where the use of sea water had failed. And Dr. Fuller tells about a girl cured of twelve scrofulous sores, by drinking daily, for four months, as much as she could of Coltsfoot tea, made so strong from the leaves as to be sweet and glutinous. A modern decoction is prepared from the herb with boiling water poured on the leaves, and with liquorice root and honey added.

But, "hark! I hear the pancake bell," said Poor Richard in his almanack, 1684; alluding to pancakes then made with Coltsfoot, like tansies, and fried with saged butter.

A century later it was still the fashion to treat consumptive young women with quaint remedies. Mrs. Delaney writes in 1758, "Does Mary cough in the Night? two or three snails boiled in her barley water may be of great service to her."

Again, the confectioner provides Coltsfoot rock, [119] concocted in fluted sticks of a brown colour, as a sweetmeat, and flavoured with some essential oil—as aniseed, or dill—these sticks being well beloved by most schoolboys. The dried leaves, when soaked out in warm water, will serve as an excellent emollient poultice. A certain preparation, called "Essence of Coltsfoot," found great favour with our grand sires for treating their colds. This consisted of Balsam of Tolu and Friar's Balsam in equal parts, together with double the quantity of Spirit of Wine. It did not really contain a trace of Coltsfoot, and the nostrum was provocative of inflammation, because of the spirit in excess. Dr. Paris said: "And this, forsooth, is a pectoral for coughs! If a patient with a catarrh should recover whilst using such a remedy, I should certainly designate it a lucky escape, rather than a skilful cure." Gerard wrote about Coltsfoot: "The fume of the dried leaves, burned upon coles, effectually helpeth those that fetch their winde thicke, and breaketh without peril the impostumes of the brest"; also "the green leaves do heal the hot inflammation called Saint Anthony's fire."

The names of the herb—Coltsfoot, and Horsehoof—are derived from the shape of the leaf. It is likewise known as Asses' foot, and Cough wort; also as Foal's foot, and Bull's foot, Hoofs, and (in Yorkshire) Cleats.

To make an infusion or decoction of the plant for a confirmed cough, or for chronic bronchitis, pour a pint of boiling water on an ounce of the dried leaves and flowers, and take half a teacupful of it when cold three or four times in the day. The silky down of the seed-heads is used in the Highlands for stuffing pillows, and the presence of coal is said to be indicated by an abundant growth of the herb.

Another species, the Butter bur (Tussilago petasites), [120] is named from petasus, an umbrella, or a broad covering for the head. It produces the largest leaves of any plant in Great Britain, which sometimes measure three feet in breadth. This plant was thought to be of great use in the time of the plague, and thus got the names of Pestilent wort, Plague flower and Bog Rhubarb. Both it, and the Coltsfoot, are specific remedies (H.) for severe and obstinate neuralgia in the small of the back, and the loins, a medicinal tincture being prepared from each herb.



COMFREY.

The Comfrey of our river banks, and moist watery places, is the Consound, or Knit-back, or Bone-set, and Blackwort of country folk; and the old Symphytum of Dioscorides. It has derived these names from the consolidating and vulnerary qualities attributed to the plant, from confirmo, to strengthen together, or the French, comfrie. This herb is of the Borage tribe, and is conspicuous by its height of from one to two feet, its large rough leaves, which provoke itching when handled, and its drooping white or purple flowers growing on short stalks. Chemically, the most important part of the plant is its "mucilage." This contains tannin, asparagin, sugar, and starch granules. The roots are sweet, sticky, and without any odour. "Quia tanta proestantia est," says Pliny, "ut si carnes duroe coquuntur conglutinet addita; unde nomen!"—"and the roots be so glutinative that they will solder or glew together meat that is chopt in pieces, seething in a pot, and make it into one lump: the same bruysed, and lay'd in the manner of a plaister, doth heale all fresh and green wounds." These roots are very brittle, and the least bit of them will start growing afresh.

[121] The whole plant, beaten to a cataplasm, and applied hot as a poultice, has always been deemed excellent for soothing pain in any tender, inflamed or suppurating part. It was formerly applied to raw indolent ulcers as a glutinous astringent, and most useful vulnerary. Pauli recommended it for broken bones, and externally for wounds of the nerves, tendons, and arteries. More recently surgeons have declared that the powdered root (which, when broken, is white within, and full of a slimy juice), if dissolved in water to a mucilage, is far from contemptible for bleedings, fractures, and luxations, whilst it hastens the callus of bones under repair. Its strong decoction has been found very useful in Germany for tanning leather. The leaves were formerly employed for giving a flavour to cakes and panada.

A modern medicinal tincture (H.) is made from the root-stock with spirit of wine; and ten drops of this should be taken three or four times a day with a tablespoonful of cold water. French nurses treat cracked nipples by applying a hollow section of the fresh root over the sore caruncle; and a decoction of the root made by boiling from two to four drachms in a pint of water, is given for bleedings from the lungs or bladder.

The name Consound, owned by the Common Comfrey, was given likewise to the daisy and the bugle, in the middle ages. "It joyeth," says Gerard, "in watery ditches, in fat and fruitful meadows." A solve concocted from the fresh herb will certainly tend to promote the healing of bruised and broken parts, suggesting as an appropriate motto for the salve box: "Behold how good and pleasant a thing it is to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment which ran down Aaron's beard." Some foreknowledge [122] of the Comfrey perhaps inspired the Prophet Isaiah to predict that after a time "the heart should rejoice and the bones flourish like a herb." The Poet Laureate tells of

"This, the Consound, Whereby the lungs are eased of their grief."

About a century ago, the Prickly Comfrey—a variety of our Consound—was naturalised in this country from the Caucasus, and has since proved itself amazingly productive to farmers, as, when cultivated, it will grow six crops in the year; and the plant is both preventive and curative of foot and mouth disease in cattle. It bears flowers of a rich blue colour.

From our Common Comfrey a sort of glue is got in Angora, which is used for spinning the famous fleeces of that country. Mr. Cockayne relates that the locksman at Teddington informed him how the bone of his little finger being broken, was grinding and grunching so sadly for two months, that sometimes he felt quite wrong in his head. One day he saw a doctor go by, and told him about the distress. The doctor said: "You see that Comfrey growing there? Take a piece of its root, and champ it, and put it about your finger, and wrap it up." The man did so, and in four days his finger was well.



CORIANDER.

Coriander comfits, sold by the confectioner as admirably warming to the stomach, and corrective of flatulence, consist of small aromatic seeds coated with white sugar. These are produced by the Coriander, an umbelliferous herb cultivated in England from early times for medicinal and culinary uses, though introduced at first from the Mediterranean. It has now [123] become wild as an escape, growing freely in our fields and waste places. Farmers produce it, especially about Essex, under the name of Col, the crops being mown down when ripe, and the fruits being then thrashed out to procure the seeds. The generic name has been derived from koros, a bug; alluding to the stinking odour of the bruised leaves, though these, when dried, are fragrant, and pleasant of smell. In some countries, as Egypt and Peru, they are taken in soups. The seeds are cordial, but become narcotic if used too freely. When distilled with water they yield a yellow essential oil of a very aromatic and strong odour.

Coriander water was formerly much esteemed as a carminative for windy colic. Being so aromatic and comfortably stimulating, the fruit is commended for aiding the digestion of savoury pastry, and to correct the griping tendencies of such medicines as senna and rhubarb. It contains malic acid, tannin, the special volatile oil of the herb, and some fatty matter.

Distillers of gin make use of this fruit, and veterinary surgeons employ it as a drug for cattle and horses. Alston says, "The green herb—seeds and all—stinks intolerably of bugs"; and Hoffman admonishes, "Si largius sumptura fuerit semen non sine periculo e sua sede et statu demovet, et qui sumpsere varia dictu pudenda blaterant." The fruits are blended with curry powder, and are chosen to flavour several liquors. By the Chinese a power of conferring immortality is thought to be possessed by the seeds. From a passage in the Book of Numbers where manna is likened to Coriander seed, it would seem that this seed was familiar to the Israelites and used by them for domestic purposes. Robert Turner says when taken in wine it stimulates the animal passions.



[124] COWSLIP.

Our English pastures and meadows, especially where the soil is of blue lias clay, become brilliantly gay, "with gaudy cowslips drest," quite early in the spring. But it is a mistake to suppose that these flowers are a favourite food with cows, who, in fact, never eat them if they can help it. The name Cowslip is really derived, says Dr. Prior, from the Flemish words, kous loppe, meaning "hose flap," a humble part of woollen nether garments. But Skeat thinks it arose from the fact that the plant was supposed to spring up where a patch of cow dung had fallen.

Originally, the Mullein—which has large, oval, woolly leaves— and the Cowslip were included under one common Latin name, Verbascum; for which reason the attributes of the Mullein still remain accredited by mistake to the second plant. Former medical writers called the Cowslip herba paralysis, or, "palsywort," because of its supposed efficacy in relieving paralysis. The whole plant is known to be gently narcotic and somniferous. Pope praised the herb and its flowers on account of their sedative qualities:—

"For want of rest, Lettuce and Cowslip wine—Probatum est."

Whilst Coleridge makes his Christabel declare with reference to the fragrant brew concocted from its petals, with lemons and sugar:—

"It is a wine of virtuous powers, My mother made it of wild flowers."

Physicians for the last two centuries have used the powdered roots of the Cowslip (and the Primrose) for wakefulness, hysterical attacks, and muscular rheumatism; and the cowslip root was named of old both [124] radix paralyseos, and radix arthritica. This root, and the flowers, have an odour of anise, which is due to their containing some volatile oil identical with mannite. Their more acrid principle is "saponin." Hill tells us that when boiled in ale, the roots are taken by country persons for giddiness, with no little success. "They be likewise in great request among those that use to hunt after goats and roebucks on high mountains, for the strengthening of the head when they pass by fearful precipices and steep places, in following their game, so that giddiness and swimming of the brain may not seize upon them." The dose of the dried and powdered flowers is from fifteen to twenty grains. A syrup of a fine yellow colour may also be made from the petals, which answers the same purposes. Three pounds of the fresh blossoms should be infused in five pints of boiling water, and then simmered down to a proper consistence with sugar.

Herbals of the Elizabethan date, say that an ointment made from cowslip flowers "taketh away the spots and wrinkles of the skin, and doth add beauty exceedingly, as divers ladies, gentlewomen, and she citizens—whether wives or widows—know well enough."

The tiny people were then supposed to be fond of nestling in the drooping bells of Cowslips, and hence the flowers were called fairy cups; and, in accordance with the doctrine of signatures, they were thought effective for removing freckles from the face.

"In their gold coats spots you see, These be rubies: fairy favours. In these freckles live their savours."

The cluster of blossoms on a single stalk sometimes bears the name of "lady's keys" or "St. Peter's wort," either because it resembles a bunch of keys as St. [126] Peter's badge, or because as primula veris it unlocks the treasures of spring.

Cowslip flowers are frequently done up by playful children into balls, which they call tisty tosty, or simply a tosty. For this purpose the umbels of blossoms fully blown are strung closely together, and tied into a firm ball.

The leaves were at one time eaten in salad, and mixed with other herbs to stuff meat, whilst the flowers were made into a delicate conserve.

Yorkshire people call this plant the Cowstripling; and in Devonshire, where it is scarcely to be found, because of the red marl, it has come about that the foxglove goes by the name of Cowslip. Again, in some provincial districts, the Cowslip is known as Petty Mullein, and in others as Paigle (Palsywort). The old English proverb, "As blake as a paigle," means, "As yellow as a cowslip."

One word may be said here in medicinal favour of the poor cow, whose association with the flower now under discussion has been so unceremoniously disproved. The breath and smell of this sweet-odoured animal are thought in Flintshire to be good against consumption. Henderson tells of a blacksmith's apprentice who was restored to health when far advanced in a decline, by taking the milk of cows fed in a kirkyard. In the south of Hampshire, a useful plaster of fresh cow-dung is applied to open wounds. And even in its evolutionary development, the homely animal reads us a lesson; for Dat Deus immiti cornua curta bovi, says the Latin proverb—"Savage cattle have only short horns." So was it in "the House that Jack built," where the fretful creature that tossed the dog had but one horn, and this grew crumpled.



[127] CRESSES.

The Cress of the herbalist is a noun of multitude: it comprises several sorts, differing in kind but possessing the common properties of wholesomeness and pungency. Here "order in variety we see"; and here, "though all things differ, all agree." The name is thought by some to be derived from the Latin verb crescere, to grow fast.

Each kind of Cress belongs to the Cruciferous genus of plants; whence comes, perhaps, the common name The several varieties of Cress are stimulating and anti-scorbutic, whilst each contains a particular essential principle, of acrid flavour, and of sharp biting qualities. The whole tribe is termed lepidium, or "siliquose," scaly, with reference to the shape of the seed-pouches. It includes "Land Cress (formerly dedicated to St. Barbara); Broad-leaved Cress (or the Poor-man's pepper); Penny Cress (thlapsus); Garden, or Town Cress; and the well known edible Water Cress." Formerly the Greeks attached much value to the whole order of Cresses, which they thought very beneficial to the brain. A favourite maxim with them was, "Eat Cresses, and get wit."

In England these plants have long been cultivated as a source of profit; whence arose the saying that a graceless fellow is not worth a "kurse" or cress—in German, kers. Thus Chaucer speaks about a character in the Canterbury Tales, "Of paramours ne fraught he not a kers." But some writers have referred this saying rather to the wild cherry or kerse, making it of the same significance as our common phrase, "Not worth a fig."

As Curative Herbal Simples we need only consider the Garden or Town Cress, and the Water Cress: whilst regarding the other varieties rather as condiments, and [128] salad herbs to be taken by way of pleasant wholesome appetisers at table. These aromatic herbs were employed to season the homely dishes of our forefathers, before commerce had brought the spices of the East at a cheap rate to our doors; and Cresses were held in common favour by peasants for such a purpose. The black, or white pepper of to-day, was then so costly that "to promise a saint yearly a pound of it was considered a liberal bequest." And therefore the leaves of wild Cresses were eaten as a substitute for giving pungency to the food. Remarkable among these was the Dittander Sativus, a species found chiefly near the sea, with foliage so hot and acrid, that the plant then went by the name of "Poor-man's Pepper," or "Pepper Wort." Pliny said, "It is of the number of scorching and blistering Simples." "This herbe," says Lyte, "is fondly and unlearnedly called in English Dittany. It were better in following the Dutchmen to name it Pepperwort."

The Garden Cress, called Sativum (from satum, a pasture), is the sort commonly coupled with the herb Mustard in our familiar "Mustard and Cress." It has been grown in England since the middle of the sixteenth century, and its other name Town Cress refers to its cultivation in "tounes," or enclosures. It was also known as Passerage; from passer, to drive away—rage, or madness, because of its reputed power to expel hydrophobia. "This Garden Cress," said Wm. Coles in his Paradise of Plants, 1650, "being green, and therefore more qualified by reason of its humidity, is eaten by country people, either alone with butter, or with lettice and purslane, in Sallets, or otherwise."

It contains sulphur, and a special ardent volatile medicinal oil. The small leaves combined with those of [129] our white garden Mustard are excellent against rheumatism and gout. Likewise it is a preventive of scurvy by reason of its mineral salts. In which salutary respects the twin plants, Mustard and Cress, are happily consorted, and well play a capital common part, like the "two single gentlemen rolled into one" of George Colman, the younger.

The Water Cress (Nasturtium officinale) is among cresses, to use an American simile, the "finest toad in the puddle." This is because of its superlative medicinal worth, and its great popularity at table. Early writers called the herb "Shamrock," and common folk now-a-days term it the "Stertion." Zenophon advised the Persians to feed their children on Water-cresses (kardamon esthie) that they might grow in stature and have active minds.

The Latin name Nasturtium was given to the Watercress because of its volatile pungency when bruised and smelt; from nasus, a nose, and tortus, turned away, it being so to say, "a herb that wriths or twists the nose." For the same reason it is called Nasitord in France. When bruised its leaves affect the eyes and nose almost like mustard. They have been usefully applied to the scald head and tetters of children. In New Zealand the stems grow as thick as a man's wrist, and nearly choke some of the rivers. Like an oyster, the Water-cress is in proper season only when there is an "r" in the month.

According to an analysis made recently in the School of Pharmacy at Paris, the Water-cress contains a sulpho-nitrogenous oil, iodine, iron, phosphates, potash, certain other earthy salts, a bitter extract, and water. Its volatile oil which is rich in nitrogen and sulphur (problematical) is the sulpho-cyanide of allyl. Anyhow [130] there is much sulphur possessed by the whole plant in one form or another, together with a considerable quantity of mineral matter. Thus the popular plant is so constituted as to be particularly curative of scrofulous affections, especially in the spring time, when the bodily humours are on the ferment. Dr. King Chambers writes (Diet in Health and Disease), "I feel sure that the infertility, pallor, fetid breath, and bad teeth which characterise some of our town populations are to a great extent due to their inability to get fresh anti-scorbutic vegetables as articles of diet: therefore I regard the Water-cress seller as one of the saviours of her country." Culpeper said pithily long ago: "They that will live in health may eat Water-cress if they please; and if they won't, I cannot help it."

The scrofula to which the Water-cress and its allied plants are antidotal, got its name from scrofa, "a burrowing pig," signifying the radical destruction of important glands in the body by this undermining constitutional disease. Possibly the quaint lines which nurses have long been given to repeat for the amusement of babies while fondling their infantine fingers bear a hidden meaning which pointedly imports the scrofulous taint. This nursery distich, as we remember, personates the fingers one by one as five little fabulous pigs:—the first small piggy doesn't feel well; and the second one threatens the doctor to tell; the third little pig has to linger at home; and the fourth small porker of meat has none; then the fifth little pig, with a querulous note, cries "weak, weak, weak" from its poor little throat.

"oegrotat multis doloribus porculus ille: Ille rogat fratri medicum proferre salutem: Debilis ille domi mansit vetitus abire; Carnem digessit nunquam miser porculus ille; 'Eheu!' ter repetens, 'eheu!' perporculus, 'eheu!' Vires exiguas luget plorante susurro."

[131] On account of its medicinal constituents the herb has been deservedly extolled as a specific remedy for tubercular consumption of the lungs. Haller says: "We have seen patients in deep declines cured by living almost entirely on this plant;" and it forms the chief ingredient of the Sirop Antiscorbutique given so successfully by the French faculty in scrofula and other allied diseases. Its active principles are at their best when the plant is in flower; and the amount of essential oil increases according to the quantity of sunlight which the leaves obtain, the proportion of iron being determined according to the quality of the water, and the measure of phosphates by the supply of dressing afforded. The leaves remain green when grown in the shade, but become of a purple brown because of their iron when exposed to the sun. The expressed juice, which contains the peculiar taste and pungency of the herb, may be taken in doses of from one to two fluid ounces at each of the three principal meals, and it should always be had fresh. When combined with the juice of Scurvy grass and of Seville oranges it makes the popular antiscorbutic medicine known as "Spring juices."

A Water-cress cataplasm applied cold in a single layer, and with a pinch of salt sprinkled thereupon makes a most useful poultice to heal foul scrofulous ulcers; and will also help to resolve glandular swellings.

Water-cresses squeezed and laid against warts were said by the Saxon leeches to work a certain cure on these excrescences. In France the Water-cress is dipped in oil and vinegar to be eaten at table with chicken or a steak. The Englishman takes it at his morning or evening meal, with bread and butter, or at dinner in a salad. It loses some of its pungent flavour and of its curative qualities [132] when cultivated; and therefore it is more appetising and useful when freshly gathered from natural streams. But these streams ought to be free from contamination by sewage matter, or any drainage which might convey the germs of fever, or other blood poison: for, as we are admonished, the Water-cress plant acts as a brush in impure running brooks to detain around its stalks and leaves any dirty disease-bringing flocculi.

Some of our leading druggists now make for medicinal use a liquid extract of the Nasturtium officinale, and a spirituous juice (or succus) of the plant. These preparations are of marked service in scorbutic cases, where weakness exists without wasting, and often with spongy gums, or some skin eruption. They are best when taken with lemon juice.

The leaf of the unwholesome Water parsnep, or Fool's Cress, resembles that of the Water-cress, and grows near it not infrequently: but the leaves of the true Water-cress never embrace the stem of the plant as do the leaf stalks of its injurious imitators. Herrick the joyous poet of "dull Devonshire" dearly loved the Water-cress, and its kindred herbs. He piously and pleasantly made them the subject of a quaint grace before meat:—

"Lord, I confess too when I dine The pulse is Thine: And all those other bits that be There placed by Thee: The wurts, the perslane, and the mess of Water-cress."

The true Nasturtium (Tropoeolum majus), or greater Indian Cress grows and is cultivated in our flower gardens as a brilliant ornamental creeper. It was brought from Peru to France in 1684, and was called La grande Capucine, whilst the botanical title tropoeolum, [133] a trophy, was conferred because of its shield-like leaves, and its flowers resembling a golden helmet. An old English name for the same plant was Yellow Lark's heels.

Two years later it was introduced into England. This partakes of the sensible and useful qualities of the other cresses. The fresh plant and the dark yellow flowers have an odour like that of the Water-cress, and its bruised leaves emit a pungent smell. An infusion made with water will bring out the antiscorbutic virtues of the plant which are specially aromatic, and cordial. The flowers make a pretty and palatable addition to salads, and the nuts or capsules (which resemble the "cheeses" of Mallow) are esteemed as a pickle, or as a substitute for Capers. Invalids have often preferred this plant to the Scurvy grass as an antiscorbutic remedy. In the warm summer months the flowers have been observed about the time of sunset to give out sparks, as of an electrical kind, which were first noticed by a daughter of Linnoeus.

The Water-cress is justly popular with persons who drink freely overnight, for its power of dissipating the fumes of the liquor, and of clearing away lethargic inaptitude for work in the morning: also for dispelling the tremors, and the foul taste induced by excessive tobacco smoking.

Closely allied thereto is another cruciferous plant, the Scurvy grass (Cochleare), named also "Spoon-wort" from its leaves resembling in shape the bowl of an old-fashioned spoon. This is thought to be the famous Herba Britannica of the ancients. Our great navigators have borne testimony to its never failing use in scurvy, and, though often growing many miles from the sea, yet the taste of the herb is always [134] found to be salt. If eaten in its fresh state, as a salad, it is the most effectual of all the antiscorbutic plants, the leaves being admirable also to cure swollen and spongy gums. It grows along the muddy banks of the Avon, likewise in Wales, and is found in Cumberland, more commonly near the coast; and again on the mountains of Scotland. It may be readily cultivated in the garden for medicinal use.

The Cuckoo flower, or "Ladies' Smock" (Cardamine) from Cardia damao, "I strengthen the heart," is another wholesome Cress with the same sensible properties as the Water-cress, only in an inferior degree, while the strong pungency of its flavour prevents it from being equally popular. This plant bears also the names of "Lucy Locket," and "Smell Smocks." In Cornwall the flowering tops have been employed for the cure of epilepsy throughout several generations with singular success; though the use of the leaves only for this purpose has caused disappointment. From one to three drams of these flowering tops are to be taken two or three times a day.

By the Rev. Mr. Gregor (1793) and by his descendants this remedy was given for inveterate epilepsy with much benefit. Lady Holt, and her sister Lady Bracebridge, of Aston Hall, Warwickshire, were long famous for curing severe cases of the same infirmity by administering this herb. They gave the powdered heads of the flowers when in full bloom-twelve grains three times a day for many weeks together.

Sir George Baker in 1767 read a paper before the London College of Physicians on the value of these flowers in convulsive disorders. He related five cures of St. Vitus' dance, spasmodic convulsions, and spasmodic asthma. Formerly the flowers were admitted into the [135] London Pharmacopoeia. The herb was named Ladies' Smock in honour of the Virgin Mary, because it comes first into flower about Lady Day, being abundant with its delicate lilac blossoms in our moist meadows and marshes:

"Lady Smocks all silver white Do paint the meadows with delight."

This plant is also named—"Milk Maids," "Bread and Milk," and "Mayflower." Gerard says "it flowers in April and May when the Cuckoo cloth begin to sing her pleasant notes without stammering." One of his characters is made by the Poet Laureate to—

"Steep for Danewulf leaves of Lady Smock, For they keep strong the heart."

"And so much," as says William Cole, herbalist, in his Paradise of Plants, 1650, "for such Plants as cure the Scurvy."



CUMIN.

Cumin (Cuminum cyminum) is not half sufficiently known, or esteemed as a domestic condiment of medicinal value, and culinary uses; whilst withal of ready access as one of our commonest importations from Malta and Sicily for flavouring purposes, and veterinary preparations. It is an umbelliferous plant, and large quantities of its seeds are brought every year to England. The herb has been cultivated in the East from early days, being called "Cuminum" by the Greeks in classic times. The seeds possess a strong aromatic odour with a penetrating and bitter taste; when distilled they yield a pungent powerful essential oil. The older herbalists esteemed them superior in comforting carminative [136] qualities to those of the fennel or caraway. They are eminently useful to correct the flatulence of languid digestion, serving also to relieve dyspeptic headache, to allay colic of the bowels, and to promote the monthly flow of women.

In Holland and Switzerland they are employed for flavouring cheese; whilst in Germany they are added to bread as a condiment.

Here the seeds are introduced in the making of curry powder, and are compounded to form a stimulating liniment; likewise a warming plaster for quickening the sluggish congestions of indolent parts. The odorous volatile oil of the fruit contains the hydro-carbons "Cymol," and "Cuminol," which are redolent of lemon and caraway odours. A dose of the seeds is from fifteen to thirty grains. Cumin symbolised cupidity among the Greeks: wherefore Marcus Antoninus was so nick-named because of his avarice; and misers were jocularly said to have eaten Cumin.

The herb was thought to specially confer the gift of retention, preventing the theft of any object which contained it, and holding the thief in custody within the invaded house; also keeping fowls and pigeons from straying, and lovers from proving fickle. If a swain was going off as a soldier, or to work a long way from his home, his sweetheart would give him a loaf seasoned with Cumin, or a cup of wine in which some of the herb had been mixed.

The ancients were acquainted with the power of Cumin to cause the human countenance to become pallid; and as a medicine the herb is well calculated to cure such pallor of the face when occurring as an illness. Partridges and pigeons [137] are extremely fond of the seeds: respecting the scriptural use of which in the payment of taxes we are reminded (Luke xi. v. 42)—"ye pay tithe of mint, and anise, and cummin." It has been discovered by Grisar that Cumin oil exercises a special action which gives it importance as a medicine. This is to signally depress nervous reflex excitability when administered in full doses, as of from two to eight drops of the oil on sugar. And when the aim is to stimulate such reflex sensibility as impaired by disease, small diluted doses of the oil serve admirably to promote this purpose.



CURRANTS.

The original Currants in times past were small grapes, grown in Greece at Zante, near Corinth, and termed Corinthians; then they became Corantes, and eventually Currants. But, as an old Roman proverb pertinently said: Non cuivis homini contingit adire Corinthum, "It was not for everyone to visit fashionable Corinth." And therefore the name of Currants became transferred in the Epirus to certain small fruit of the Gooseberry order which closely resembled the grapes of Zante, but were identical rather with the Currants of our modern kitchen gardens, such as we now use for making puddings, pies, jams, and jellies. The bushes which produce this fruit grow wild in the Northern part, of Great Britain, and belong to the Saxifrage order of plants. The wild Red Currant bears small berries which are intensely acid. In modern Italy basketsful are gathered in the woods of the Apennines, and the Alps.

Currants are not mentioned in former Greek or Roman literature, nor do they seem to have been cultivated by the Anglo-Saxons, or the Normans. Our several sorts [138] of Currants afford a striking illustration of the mode which their parent bushes have learnt to adopt so as to attract by their highly coloured fruits the birds which shall disperse their seeds. These colours are not developed until the seed is ripe for germination; because if birds devoured them prematurely the seed would fall inert. But simultaneously come the ripeness and the soft sweet pulp, and the rich colouring, so that the birds may be attracted to eat the fruit, and spread the seed in their droppings. Zeuxis, a famous Sicilian painter four hundred years before Christ, depicted currants and grapes with such fidelity that birds came and tried to peck them out from his canvas.

White Currants are the most simple in kind; and the Red are a step in advance. If equal parts of either fruit and of sugar are put over the fire, the liquid which separates spontaneously will make a very agreeable jelly because of the "pectin" with which it is chemically furnished. Nitric acid will convert this pectin into oxalic acid, or salts of sorrel. The juice of Red Currants also contains malic and citric acids, which are cooling and wholesome. In the Northern counties this red Currant is called Wineberry, or Garnetberry, from its rich ruddy colour, and transparency. Its sweetened juice is a favourable drink in Paris, being preferred there to the syrup of orgeat (almonds). When made into a jelly with sugar the juice of red Currants is excellent in fevers, and acts as an anti-putrescent; as likewise if taken at table with venison, or hare, or other "high" meats. This fruit especially suits persons of sanguine temperament. Both red and white Currants are without doubt trustworthy remedies in most forms of obstinate visceral obstruction, and they correct impurities of the blood, being certainly antiseptic.

[139] The black Currant is found growing wild in England, for the most part by the edges of brooks, and in moist grounds, from mid-Scotland southwards. Throughout Sussex and Kent the shrub is called "Gazles" as corrupted from the French Groseilles (Gooseberries). The fruit is cooling, laxative, and anodyne. Its thickened juice concocted over the fire, with, or without sugar, formed a "rob" of Old English times. The black Currant is often named by our peasantry "Squinancy," or "Quinsyberry," because a jelly prepared therefrom has been long employed for sore throat and quinsy. The leaf glands of its young leaves secrete from their under surface a fragrant odorous fluid. Therefore if newly gathered, and infused for a moment in very hot water and then dried, the leaves make an excellent substitute for tea; also these fresh leaves when applied to a gouty part will assuage pain, and inflammation. They are used to impart the flavour of brandy to common spirit. Bergius called the leaf, mundans, pellens, et diuretica. Botanically the black Currant, Ribes nigrum, belongs to the Saxifrage tribe, this generic term Ribes being applied to all fresh currants, as of Arabian origin, and signifying acidity. Grocers' currants come from the Morea, being small grapes dried in the sun, and put in heaps to cake together. Then they are dug out with a crow-bar, and trodden into casks for exportation. Our national plum pudding can no more be made without these currants than "little Tom Tucker who for his supper, could cut his bread without any knife or could find himself married without any wife." Former cooks made an odd use of grocers' currants, according to King, a poet of the middle ages, who says:—

"They buttered currants on fat veal bestowed, And rumps of beef with virgin honey strewed."

[140] On the kitchen Currant a riddling rhyme was long ago to be found in the Children's Book of Conundrums:—

"Higgledy-piggledy, here I lie Picked and plucked, and put in a pie; My first is snapping, snarling, growling; My second noisy, ramping, prowling."

Eccles cakes are delicious Currant sandwiches which are very popular in Manchester.

Black Currant jelly should not be made with too much sugar, else its medicinal-virtues will be impaired. A teaspoonful of this jelly may be given three or four times in the day to a child with thrush. In Russia the leaves of the black Currant are employed to fabricate brandy made with a coarse spirit. These leaves and the fruit are often combined by our herbalists with the seeds of the wild carrot for stimulating the kidneys in passive dropsy. A medicinal wine is also brewed from the fruit together with honey. In this country we use a decoction of the leaf, or of the bark as a gargle. In Siberia black Currants grow as large as hazel nuts. Both the black and the red Currants afford a pleasant home-made wine. Ex eo optimum vinum fieri potest non deterius vinis vetioribus viteis, wrote Haller in 1750. White Currants, however, yield the best wine, and this may be improved by keeping, even for twenty years. Dr. Thornton says: "I have used old wine of white Currants for calculous affections, and it has surpassed all expectation."

A delicate jelly is made from the red Currant at Bas-le-duc; and a well-known nursery rhyme tells of the tempting qualities of "cherry pie, and currant wine." A rob of black Currant jam is taken in Scotland with whiskey toddy. Shakespeare in the Winter's Tale makes Antolycus, the shrewd "picker-up of unconsidered [141] trifles" talk of buying for the sheep-shearing feast "three pounds of sugar, five pounds of currants, and rice." In France a cordial called Liqueur de cassis is made from black Currants; and a refreshing drink, Eau de groseilles, from the red.

Some forty years ago, at the time of the Crimean war a patriotic song in praise of the French flag was most popular in our streets, and had for its refrain, "Hurrah for the Red, White, and Blue!" So valuable for food and physics are our tricoloured Currants that the same argot may be justly paraphrased in their favour, with a well-merited eulogium of "Hurrah for the White, Red, Black!"



DAFFODIL.

The yellow Daffodil, which is such a favourite flower of our early Spring because of its large size, and showy yellow color, grows commonly in English woods, fields, and orchards. Its popular names, Daffodowndilly, Daffodily, and Affodily, bear reference to the Asphodel, with which blossom of the ancient Greeks this is identical. It further owns the botanical name of Narcissus (pseudo-narcissus)—not after the classical youth who met with his death through vainly trying to embrace his image reflected in a clear stream because of its exquisite beauty, and who is fabled to have been therefore changed into flower—but by reason of the narcotic properties which the plant possesses, as signified by the Greek word, Narkao, "to benumb." Pliny described it as a Narce narcisswm dictum, non a fabuloso puero. An extract of the bulbs when applied to open wounds has produced staggering, numbness of the whole nervous system, and paralysis of the heart. Socrates called this plant the "Chaplet of the Infernal Gods," because of its [142] narcotic effects. Nevertheless, the roots of the asphodel were thought by the ancient Greeks to be edible, and they were therefore laid in tombs as food for the dead. Lucian tells us that Charon, the ferryman who rowed the souls of the departed over the river Styx, said: "I know why Mercury keeps us waiting here so long. Down in these regions there is nothing to be had but, asphodel, and oblations, in the midst of mist and darkness; whereas up in heaven he finds it all bright and clear, with ambrosia there, and nectar in plenty."

In the Middle Ages the roots of the Daffodil were called Cibi regis, "food for a king,"; but his Majesty must have had a disturbed night after partaking thereof, as they are highly stimulating to the kidneys: indeed, there is strong reason for supposing that these roots have a prior claim to those of the dandelion for lectimingous fame, (lectus, "the bed"; mingo, to "irrigate").

The brilliant yellow blossom of the Daffodil possesses, as is well known, a bell-shaped crown in the midst of its petals, which is strikingly characteristic. The flower-stalk is hollow, bearing on its summit a membranous sheath, which envelops a single flower of an unpleasant odour. But the Jonquil, which is a cultivated variety of the Daffodil, having white petals with a yellow crown, yields a delicious perfume, which modern chemistry can closely imitate by a hydrocarbon compound. If "naphthalin," a product of coal tar oil, has but the smallest particle of its scent diffused in a room, the special aroma of jonquil and narcissus is at once perceived.

When the flowers of the Daffodil are dried in the sun, if a decoction of them is made, from fifteen to thirty grains will prove emetic like that of Ipecacuanha. From five to six ounces of boiling water should be poured on this quantity of the dried [143] flowers, and should stand for twenty minutes. It will then serve most usefully for relieving the congestive bronchial catarrh of children, being sweetened, and given one third at a time every ten or fifteen minutes until it provokes vomiting. It is also beneficial in this way, but when given less often, for epidemic dysentery.

The chemical principles of the Daffodil have not been investigated; but a yellow volatile oil of disagreeable odour, and a brown colouring matter, have been got from the flowers.

Arabians commended this oil to be applied for curing baldness, and for stimulating the sexual organs.

Herrick alludes in his Hesperides to the Daffodil as death:—

"When a Daffodil I see Hanging down its head towards me, Guess I may what I must be— First I shall decline my head; Secondly I shall be dead; Lastly, safely buried."

Daffodils, popularly known in this country as Lent Lilies, are called by the French Pauvres filles de Sainte Clare. The name Junquillo is the Spanish diminutive of Junco, "the rush," and is given to the jonquil because of its slender rush-like stem. From its fragrant flowers a sweet-smelling yellow oil is obtained.

The medicinal influence of the daffodil on the nervous System has led to giving its flowers and its bulb for Hysterical affections, and even epilepsy, with benefit.



DAISY.

Our English Daisy is a composite flower which is called in the glossaries "gowan," or Yellow flower. Botanically [144] it is named Bellis perennis, probably from bellis, "in fields of battle," because of its fame in healing the wounds of soldiers; and perennis as implying that though "the rose has but a summer reign, the daisy never dies," The flower is likewise known as "Bainwort," "beloved by children," and "the lesser Consound." The whole plant has been carefully and exhaustively proved for curative purposes; and a medicinal tincture (H.) is now made from it with spirit of wine. Gerard says: "Daisies do mitigate all kinds of pain, especially in the joints, and gout proceeding from a hot humour, if stamped with new butter and applied upon the pained place." And, "The leaves of Daisies used among pot herbs do make the belly soluble." Pliny tells us the Daisy was used in his time with Mugwort as a resolvent to scrofulous tumours.

The leaves are acrid and pungent, being ungrateful to cattle, and even rejected by geese. These and the flowers, when chewed experimentally, have provoked giddiness and pains in the arms as if from coming boils: also a development of boils, "dark, fiery, and very sore," on the back of the neck, and outside the jaws. For preventing, or aborting these same distressing formations when they begin to occur spontaneously, the tincture of Daisies should be taken in doses of five drops three times a day in water. Likewise this medicine should be given curatively on the principle of affinity between it and the symptoms induced in provers who have taken the same in material toxic doses, "when the brain is muddled, the sight dim, the spirits soon depressed, the temper irritable, the skin pimply, the heart apt to flutter, and the whole aspect careworn; as if from early excesses." Then the infusion of the plant in tablespoonful doses, or the diluted tincture, will answer admirably [145] to renovate and re-establish the health and strength of the sufferer.

The flowers and leaves are found to afford a considerable quantity of oil and of ammoniacal salts. The root was named Consolida minima by older physicians. Fabricius speaks of its efficacy in curing wounds and contusions. A decoction of the leaves and flowers was given internally, and the bruised herb blended with lard was applied outside. "The leaves stamped do take away bruises and swellings, whereupon, it was called in old time Bruisewort." If eaten as a spring salad, or boiled like spinach, the leaves are pungent, and slightly laxative.

Being a diminutive plant with roots to correspond, the Daisy, on the doctrine of signatures, was formerly thought to arrest the bodily growth if taken with this view. Therefore its roots boiled in broth were given to young puppies so as to keep them of a small size. For the same reason the fairy Milkah fed her foster child on this plant, "that his height might not exceed that of a pigmy":—

"She robbed dwarf elders of their fragrant fruit, And fed him early with the daisy-root, Whence through his veins the powerful juices ran, And formed the beauteous miniature of man."

"Daisy-roots and cream" were prescribed by the fairy godmothers of our childhood to stay the stature of those gawky youngsters who were shooting up into an ungainly development like "ill weeds growing apace."

Daisies were said of old to be under the dominion of Venus, and later on they were dedicated to St. Margaret of Cortona. Therefore they were reputed good for the special-illnesses of females. It is remarkable there is no [146] Greek word for this plant, or flower. Ossian the Gaelic poet feigns that the Daisy, whose white investments figure innocence, was first "sown above a baby's grave by the dimpled hands of infantine angels."

During mediaeval times the Daisy was worn by knights at a tournament as an emblem of fidelity. In his poem the Flower and the Leaf, Chaucer, who was ever loud in his praises of the "Eye of Day"—"empresse and floure of floures all," thus pursues his theme:—

"And at the laste there began anon A lady for to sing right womanly A bargaret in praising the Daisie: For—as methought among her notes sweet, She said, 'Si doucet est la Margarete.'"

The French name Marguerite is derived from a supposed resemblance of the Daisy to a pearl; and in Germany this flower is known as the Meadow Pearl. Likewise the Greek word for a pearl is Margaritos.