A saying goes that it is not Spring until a person can put his foot on twelve of these flowers. In the cultivated red Daisies used for bordering our gardens, the yellow central boss of each compound flower has given place to strap-shaped florets like the outer rays, and without pollen, so that the entire flower consists of this purple inflorescence. But such aristocratic culture has made the blossom unproductive of seed. Like many a proud and belted Earl, each of the pampered and richly coloured Daisies pays the penalty of its privileged luxuriance by a disability from perpetuating its species.

The Moon Daisy, or Oxeye Daisy (Leucanthemum Orysanthemum), St. John's flower, belonging to the same tribe of plants, grows commonly with an erect stem about two feet high, in dry pastures and roads, bearing large solitary flowers which are balsamic and make a [147] useful infusion for relieving chronic coughs, and for bronchial catarrhs. Boiled with some of the leaves and stalks they form, if sweetened with honey, or barley sugar, an excellent posset drink for the same purpose. In America the root is employed successfully for checking the night sweats of pulmonary consumption, a fluid extract thereof being made for this object, the dose of which is from fifteen to sixty drops in water.

The Moon Daisy is named Maudlin-wort from St. Mary Magdalene, and bears its lunar name from the Grecian goddess of the moon, Artemis, who particularly governed the female health. Similarly, our bright little Daisy, "the constellated flower that never sets," owns the name Herb Margaret. The Moon Daisy is also called Bull Daisy, Gipsies' Daisy, Goldings, Midsummer Daisy, Mace Flinwort, and Espilawn. Its young leaves are sometimes used as a flavouring in soups and stews. The flower was compared to the representation of a full moon, and was formerly dedicated to the Isis of the Egyptians. Tom Hood wrote of a traveller estranged far from his native shores, and walking despondently in a distant land:—

"When lo! he starts with glad surprise, Home thoughts come rushing o'er him, For, modest, wee, and crimson-tipped A flower he sees before him. With eager haste he stoops him down, His eyes with moisture hazy; And as he plucks the simple bloom He murmurs, 'Lawk, a Daisy'"!



DANDELION.

Owing to long years of particular evolutionary sagacity in developing winged seeds to be wafted from the silky pappus of its ripe flowerheads over wide areas of land, [148] the Dandelion exhibits its handsome golden flowers in every field and on every ground plot throughout the whole of our country. They are to be distinguished from the numerous hawkweeds, by having the outermost leaves of their exterior cup bent downwards whilst the stalk is coloured and shining. The plant-leaves have jagged edges which resemble the angular jaw of a lion fully supplied with teeth; or, some writers say, the herb has been named from the heraldic lion which is vividly yellow, with teeth of gold-in fact, a dandy lion! Again, the flower closely resembles the sun, which a lion represents. It is called by some Blowball, Time Table, and Milk "Gowan" (or golden).

"How like a prodigal does Nature seem, When thou with all thy gold so common art."

In some of our provinces the herb is known as Wiggers, and Swinesnout; whilst again in Devon and Cornwall it is called the Dashelflower. Botanically it belongs to the composite order, and is named Taraxacum Leontodon, or eatable, and lion-toothed. This latter when Latinised is dens leonis, and in French dent de lion. The title Taraxacum is an Arabian corruption of the Greek trogimon, "edible"; or it may have been derived from the Greek taraxos, "disorder," and akos, "remedy." It once happened that a plague of insects destroyed the harvest in the island of Minorca, so that the inhabitants had to eat the wild produce of the country; and many of them then subsisted for some while entirely on this plant. The Dandelion, which is a wild sort of Succory, was known to Arabian physicians, since Avicenna of the eleventh century mentions it as taraxacon. It is found throughout Europe, Asia, and North America; possessing a root which abounds with milky juice, and [149] this varying in character according to the time of year in which the plant is gathered.

During the winter the sap is thick, sweet, and albuminous; but in summer time it is bitter and acrid. Frost causes the bitterness to diminish, and sweetness to take its place; but after the frost this bitterness returns, and is intensified. The root is at its best for yielding juice about November. Chemically the active ingredients of the herb are taraxacin, and taraxacerine, with inulin (a sort of sugar), gluten, gum, albumen, potash, and an odorous resin, which is commonly supposed to stimulate the liver, and the biliary organs. Probably this reputed virtue was assigned at first to the plant largely on the doctrine of signatures, because of its bright yellow flowers of a bilious hue. But skilled medical provers who have experimentally tested the toxical effects of the Dandelion plant have found it to produce, when taken in excess, troublesome indigestion, characterized by a tongue coated with a white skin which peels off in patches, leaving a raw surface, whilst the kidneys become unusually active, with profuse night sweats and an itching nettle rash. For these several symptoms when occurring of themselves, a combination of the decoction, and the medicinal tincture will be invariably curative.

To make a decoction of the root, one part of this dried, and sliced, should be gently boiled for fifteen minutes in twenty parts of water, and strained off when cool. It may be sweetened with brown sugar, or honey, if unpalatable when taken alone, several teacupfuls being given during the day. Dandelion roots as collected for the market are often adulterated with those of the common Hawkbit (Leontodon hispidus); but these are more tough and do not give out any milky juice.

[150] The tops of the roots dug out of the ground, with the tufts of the leaves remaining thereon, and blanched by being covered in the earth as they grow, if gathered in the spring, are justly esteemed as an excellent vernal salad. It was with this homely fare the good wise Hecate entertained Theseus, as we read in Evelyn's Acetaria. Bergius says he has seen intractable cases of liver congestion cured, after many other remedies had failed, by the patients taking daily for some months, a broth made from Dandelion roots stewed in boiling water, with leaves of Sorrel, and the yelk of an egg; though (he adds) they swallowed at the same time cream of tartar to keep their bodies open.

Incidentally with respect to the yelk of an egg, as prescribed here, it is an established fact that patients have been cured of obstinate jaundice by taking a raw egg on one or more mornings while fasting. Dr. Paris tells us a special oil is to be extracted from the yelks (only) of hard boiled eggs, roasted in pieces in a frying pan until the oil begins to exude, and then pressed hard. Fifty eggs well fried will yield about five ounces of this oil, which is acrid, and so enduringly liquid that watch-makers use it for lubricating the axles and pivots of their most delicate wheels. Old eggs furnish the oil most abundantly, and it certainly acts as a very useful medicine for an obstructed liver. Furthermore the shell, when finely triturated, has served by its potentialised lime to cure some forms of cancer. Sweet are the uses of adversity! even such as befell the egg symbolised by Humpty-Dumpty:—

"Humptius in muro requievit Dumptius alto, Humptius e muro Dumptius—heu! cecidit! Sed non Regis equi, Reginae exercitus omnis Humpti, te, Dumpti, restituere loco."

[151] The medicinal tincture of Dandelion is made from the entire plant, gathered in summer, employing proof spirit which dissolves also the resinous parts not soluble in water. From ten to fifteen drops of this tincture may be taken with a spoonful of water three times in the day.

Of the freshly prepared juice, which should not be kept long as it quickly ferments, from two to three teaspoonfuls are a proper dose. The leaves when tender and white in the spring are taken on the Continent in salads or they are blanched, and eaten with bread and butter. Parkinson says: "Whoso is drawing towards a consumption, or ready to fall into a cachexy, shall find a wonderful help from the use thereof, for some time together." Officially, according to the London College, are prepared from the fresh dried roots collected in the autumn, a decoction (one ounce to a pint of boiling water), a juice, a fresh extract, and an inspissated liquid extract.

Because of its tendency to provoke involuntary urination at night, the Dandelion has acquired a vulgar suggestive appellation which expresses this fact in most homey terms: quasi herba lectiminga, et urinaria dicitur: and this not only in our vernacular, but in most of the European tongues: quia plus lotii in vesicam derivat quam puerulis retineatur proesertim inter dormiendum, eoque tunc imprudentes et inviti stragula permingunt.

At Gottingen, the roots are roasted and used instead of coffee by the poorer folk; and in Derbyshire the juice of the stalk is applied to remove warts. The flower of the Dandelion when fully blown is named Priest's Crown (Caput monachi), from the resemblance of its naked receptacle after the winged seeds have been all blown away, to the smooth shorn head of a Roman [152] cleric. So Hurdis sings in his poem The Village Curate:—

"The Dandelion this: A college youth that flashes for a day All gold: anon he doffs his gaudy suit, Touched by the magic hand of Bishop grave, And all at once by commutation strange Becomes a reverend priest: and then how sleek! How full of grace! with silvery wig at first So nicely trimmed, which presently grows bald. But let me tell you, in the pompous globe Which rounds the Dandelion's head is fitly couched Divinity most rare."

Boys gather the flower when ripe, and blow away the hall of its silky seed vessels at the crown, to learn the time of day, thus sportively making:—

"Dandelion with globe of down The school-boy's clock in every town."



DATE.

Dates are the most wholesome and nourishing of all our imported fruits. Children especially appreciate their luscious sweetness, as afforded by an abundant sugar which is easily digested, and which quickly repairs waste of heat and fat. With such a view, likewise, doctors now advise dates for consumptive patients; also because they soothe an irritable chest, and promote expectoration; whilst, furthermore, they prevent costiveness. Dates are the fruit of the Date palm (Phoenix dactylifera), or, Tree of Life.

In old English Bibles of the sixteenth century, the name Date-tree is constantly given to the Palm, and the fruit thereof was the first found by the Israelites when wandering in the Wilderness.

Oriental writers have attributed to this tree a certain semi-human consciousness. The name Phoenix was [153] bestowed on the Date palm because a young shoot springs always from the withered stump of an old decayed Date tree, taking the place of the dead parent; and the specific term Dactylifera refers to a fancied resemblance between clusters of the fruit and the human fingers.

The Date palm is remarkably fond of water, and will not thrive unless growing near it, so that the Arabs say: "In order to flourish, its feet must be in the water, and its head in the fire (of a hot sun)." Travellers across the desert, when seeing palm Dates in the horizon, know that wells of water will be found near at hand: at the same time they sustain themselves with Date jam.

In some parts of the East this Date palm is thought been the tree of the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. It is mystically represented as the tree of life in the sculptured foliage of early French churches, and on the primitive mosaics found in the apses of Roman Basilicas. Branches of this tree are carried about in Catholic countries on Palm Sunday. Formerly Dates were sent to England and elsewhere packed in mats from the Persian gulf; but now they arrive in clean boxes, neatly laid, and free from duty; so that a wholesome, sustaining, and palatable meal may be had for one penny, if they are eaten with bread.

The Egyptian Dates are superior, being succulent and luscious when new, but apt to become somewhat hard after Christmas.

The Dates, however, which surpass all others in their general excellence, are grown with great care at Tafilat, two or three hundred miles inland from Morocco, a region to which Europeans seldom penetrate.

These Dates travel in small packages by camel, rail, and steamer, being of the best quality, and highly valued. Their exportation is prohibited by the African [154] authorities at Tafilat, unless the fruit crop has been large enough to allow thereof after gathering the harvest with much religious ceremony.

Dates of a second quality are brought from Tunis, being intermixed with fragments of stalk and branch; whilst the inferior sorts come in the form of a cake, or paste (adjoue!), being pressed into baskets. In this shape they were tolerably common with us in Tudor times, and were then used for medicinal purposes. Strutt mentions a grocer's bill delivered in 1581, in which occurs the item of six pounds of dates supplied at a funeral for two shillings; and we read that in 1821 the best kind of dates cost five shillings a pound.

If taken as a portable refection by jurymen and others who may be kept from their customary food Dates will prevent exhaustion, and will serve to keep active the energies of mind and body. The fruit should be selected when large and soft, being moist, and of a reddish yellow colour outside, and not much wrinkled, whilst having within a white membrane between the flesh and the stone.

Beads for rosaries are made in Barbary from Date stones turned in a lathe; or when soaked in water for a couple of days the stones may be given to cattle as a nutritious food, being first ground in a mill. The fodder being astringent will serve by its tannin, which is abundant, to cure or prevent looseness.

In a clever parody on Bret Harte's "Heathen Chinee," an undergraduate is detected in having primed himself before examination thus:—

"Inscribed on his cuffs were the Furies, and Fates, With a delicate map of the Dorian States: Whilst they found in his palms, which were hollow, What are common in Palms—namely, Dates."

[155] Again, a conserve is prepared by the Egyptians from unripe Dates whole with sugar. The soft stones are edible: and this jam, though tasteless, is very nourishing. The Arabs say that Adam when driven out of Paradise took with him three things—the Date, chief of all fruits, Myrtle, and an ear of Wheat.

Another Palm—the Sagus, or, Cycus revolute,—which grows naturally in Japan and the East Indian Islands, being also cultivated in English hot-houses, yields by its gummy pith our highly nutritious sago. This when cooked is one of the best and most sustaining foods for children and infirm old persons. The Indians reserve their finest sago for the aged and afflicted. A fecula is washed from the abundant pith, which is chemically a starch, very demulcent, and more digestible than that of rice. It never ferments in the stomach, and is very suitable for hectic persons. By the Arabs the pith of the Date-bearing Palm is eaten in like manner. The simple wholesome virtues of this domestic substance have been told of from childhood in the well-known nursery rhyme, which has been playfully rendered into Latin and French:—

"There was an old man of Iago Whom they kept upon nothing but sago; Oh! how he did jump when the doctor said plump: 'To a roast leg of mutton you may go.'"

"Jamdudum senior quidam de rure Tobagus Invito mad das carpserat ore dapes; Sed medicus tandem non injucunda locutus: 'Assoe' dixit 'oves sunt tibi coena, senex.'"

"J'ai entendu parler d'un veillard de Tobag Qui ne mangea longtemps que du ris et du sague; Mais enfin le medecin lui dit ces mots: 'Allez vous en, mon ami, au gigot.'"



[156] DILL.

Cordial waters distilled from the fragrant herb called Dill are, as every mother and monthly nurse well know, a sovereign remedy for wind in the infant; whilst they serve equally well to correct flatulence in the grown up "gourmet." This highly scented plant (Anethum graveolens) is of Asiatic origin, growing wild also in some parts of England, and commonly cultivated in our gardens for kitchen or medicinal uses.

It "hath a little stalk of a cubit high, round, and joyned, whereupon do grow leaves very finely cut, like to those of Fennel, but much smaller." The herb is of the umbelliferous order, and its fruit chemically furnishes "anethol," a volatile empyreumatic oil similar to that contained in the Anise, and Caraway. Virgil speaks of the Dill in his Second Eclogue as the bene olens anethum, "a pleasant and fragrant plant." Its seeds were formerly directed to be used by the Pharmacopoeias of London and Edinburgh. Forestus extols them for allaying sickness and hiccough. Gerard says: "Dill stayeth the yeox, or hicquet, as Dioscorides has taught."

The name Anethum was a radical Greek term (aitho—to burn), and the herb is still called Anet in some of our country districts. The pungent essential oil which it yields consists of a hydrocarbon, "carvene," together with an oxygenated oil; It is a "gallant expeller of the wind, and provoker of the terms." "Limbs that are swollen and cold if rubbed with the oil of Dill are much eased; if not cured thereby."

A dose of the essential oil if given for flatulent indigestion should be from two to four drops, on sugar, or with a tablespoonful of milk. Of the distilled water sweetened, one or two teaspoonfuls may be given to an infant.

[157] The name Dill is derived from the Saxon verb dilla, to lull, because of its tranquillizing properties, and its causing children to sleep. This word occurs in the vocabulary of Oelfric, Archbishop of Canterbury, tenth century. Dioscorides gave the oil got from the flowers for rheumatic pains, and sciatica; also a carminative water distilled from the fruit, for increasing the milk of wet nurses, and for appeasing the windy belly-aches of babies. He teaches that a teaspoonful of the bruised seeds if boiled in water and taken hot with bread soaked therein, wonderfully helps such as are languishing from hardened excrements, even though they may have vomited up their faeces.

The plant is largely grown in the East Indies, where is known as Soyah. Its fruit and leaves are used for flavouring pickles, and its water is given to parturient women.

Drayton speaks of the Dill as a magic ingredient in Love potions; and the weird gipsy, Meg Merrilies, crooned a cradle song at the birth of Harry Bertram in it was said:—

"Trefoil, vervain, John's wort, Dill, Hinder witches of their will."



DOCK.

The term Dock is botanically a noun of multitude, meaning originally a bundle of hemp, and corresponding to a similar word signifying a flock. It became in early times applied to a wide-spread tribe of broad-leaved wayside weeds. They all belong to the botanical order of Polygonaceoe, or "many kneed" plants, because, like the wife of Yankee Doodle, famous in song, they are "double-jointed;" though he, poor man! expecting to find Mistress Doodle doubly active in her household [158] duties, was, as the rhyme says, "disappointed." The name "Dock" was first applied to the Arctium Lappa, or Bur-dock, so called because of its seed-vessels becoming frequently entangled by their small hooked spines in the wool of sheep passing along by the hedge-rows. Then the title got to include other broad-leaved herbs, all of the Sorrel kind, and used in pottage, or in medicine.

Of the Docks which are here recognized, some are cultivated, such as Garden Rhubarb, and the Monk's Rhubarb, or herb Patience, an excellent pot herb; whilst others grow wild in meadows, and by river sides, such as the round-leafed Dock (Rumex obtusifolius), the sharp-pointed Dock (Rumex acutus), the sour Dock (Rumex acetosus), the great water Dock (Rumex hydrolapathum), and the bloody-veined Dock (Rumex sanguineus).

All these resemble our garden rhubarb more or less in their general characteristics, and in possessing much tannin. Most of them chemically furnish "rumicin," or crysophanic acid, which is highly useful in several chronic diseases of the skin among scrofulous patients. The generic name of several Docks is rumex, from the Hebrew rumach, a "spear"; others arc called lapathum, from the Greek verb lapazein, to cleanse, because they act medicinally as purgatives.

The common wayside Dock (Rumex obtusifolius) is the most ordinary of all the Docks, being large and spreading, and so coarse that cattle refuse to eat it. The leaves are often applied as a rustic remedy to burns and scalds, and are used for dressing blisters. Likewise a popular cure for nettle stings is to rub them with a Dock leaf, saying at the same time:—

"Out nettle: in Dock; Dock shall have a new smock."

[159] or:

"Nettle out: Dock in; Dock remove the nettle sting."

A tea made from the root was formerly given for the cure of boils, and the plant is frequently called Butterdock, because its leaves are put into use for wrapping up butter. This Dock will not thrive in poor worthless soil; but its broad foliage serves to lodge the destructive turnip fly. The root when dried maybe added to tooth powder.

It was under the broad leaf of a roadside Dock that Hop o' My Thumb, famous in nursery lore, sought refuge from a storm, and was unfortunately swallowed whilst still beneath the leaf by a passing hungry cow.

The herb Patience, or Monk's Rhubarb (Rumex alpinus), a Griselda among herbs, may be given with admirable effect in pottage, as a domestic aperient, "loosening the belly, helping the jaundice, and dispersing the tympany." This grows wild in some parts, by roadsides, and near cottages, but is not common except as a cultivated herb ill the kitchen-garden, known as "Patience-dock." It is a remarkable fact that the toughest flesh-meat, if boiled with the herb, or with other kindred docks, will become quite tender. The name Patience, or Passions, was probably from the Italian Lapazio, a corruption of Lapathum, which was mistaken for la passio, the passion of Christ.

Our Garden Rhubarb is a true Dock, and belongs to the "many-kneed," buckwheat order of plants. Its brilliant colouring is due to varying states of its natural pigment (chlorophyll), in combination with oxygen. For culinary purposes the stalk, or petiole of the broad leaf, is used. Its chief nutrient property is glucose, which is identical with grape-sugar. The agreeable taste and odour of the [160] plant are not brought out until the leaf stalks are cooked. It came originally from the Volga, and has been grown in this country since 1573. The sour taste of the stalks is due to oxalic acid, or rather to the acid oxalate of potash. This combines with the lime elaborated in the system of a gouty person (having an "oxalic acid" disposition), and makes insoluble and injurious products which have to be thrown off by the kidneys as oxalate crystals, with much attendant irritation of the general system. Sorrel (Rumex acetosus) acts with such a person in just the same way, because of the acid oxalate of potash which it contains.

Garden Rhubarb also possesses albumen, gum, and mineral matters, with a small quantity of some volatile essence. The proportion of nutritive substance to the water and vegetable fibre is very small. As an article of food it is objectionable for gouty persons liable to the passage of highly coloured urine, which deposits lithates and urates as crystals after it has cooled; and this especially holds good if hard water, which contains lime, is drunk at the same time.

The round-leaved Dock, and the sharp-pointed Dock, together with the bloody-veined Dock (which is very conspicuous because of its veins and petioles abounding in a blood-coloured juice), make respectively with their astringent roots a useful infusion against bleedings and fluxes; also with their leaves a decoction curative of several chronic skin diseases.

The Rumex acetosus (Sour Dock, or Sorrel), though likely to disagree with gouty persons, nevertheless supplies its leaves as the chief constituent of the Soupe aux herbes, which a French lady will order for herself after a long and tiring journey. Its title is derived as some think, from struma, because curative [161] thereof. This Dock further bears the names of Sour sabs, Sour grabs, Soursuds, Soursauce, Cuckoo sorrow, and Greensauce. Because of their acidity the leaves make a capital dressing with stewed lamb, veal, or sweetbread. Country people beat the herb to a mash, and take it mixed with vinegar and sugar as a green sauce with cold meat. When boiled by itself without water it serves as an excellent accompaniment to roast goose or pork instead of apple sauce. The root of Sorrel when dried has the singular property of imparting a fine red colour to boiling water, and it is therefore used by the French for making barley water look like red wine when they wish to avoid giving anything of a vinous character to the sick. In Ireland Sorrel leaves are eaten with fish, and with other alkalescent foods. Because corrective of scrofulous deposits, Sorrel is specially beneficial towards the cure of scurvy. Applied externally the bruised leaves will purify foul ulcers. Says John Evelyn in his noted Acetaria (1720), "Sorrel sharpens the appetite, assuages heat, cools the liver and strengthens the heart; it is an antiscorbutic, resisting putrefaction, and in the making of sallets imparts a grateful quickness to the rest as supplying the want of oranges and lemons. Together with salt it gives both the name and the relish to sallets from the sapidity which renders not plants and herbs only, but men themselves, and their conversations pleasant and agreeable. But of this enough, and perhaps too much! lest while I write of salts and sallets I appear myself insipid."

The Wood Sorrel (Oxalis acetosella) is a distinct plant from the Dock Sorrel, and is not one of the Polygonaceoe, but a geranium, having a triple leaf which is often employed to symbolise the Trinity. Painters of old [162] placed it in the foreground of their pictures when representing the crucifixion. The leaves are sharply acid through oxalate of potash, commonly called "Salts of Lemon," which is quite a misleading name in its apparent innocence as applied to so strong a poison. The petals are bluish coloured, veined with purple. Formerly, on account of its grateful acidity, a conserve was ordered by the London College to be made from the leaves and petals of Wood Sorrel, with sugar and orange peel, and it was called Conserva lujuoe.

The Burdock (Arctium lappa) grows very commonly in our waste places, with wavy leaves, and round heads of purple flowers, and hooked scales. From the seeds a medicinal tincture (H.) is made, and a fluid extract, of which from ten to thirty drops, given three times a day, with two tablespoonfuls of cold water, will materially benefit certain chronic skin diseases (such as psoriasis), if taken steadily for several weeks, or months. Dr. Reiter of Pittsburg, U.S.A., says the Burdock feed has proved in his hands almost a specific for psoriasis and for obstinate syphilis. The tincture is of special curative value for treating that depressed state of the general health which is associated with milky phosphates in the urine, and much nervous debility. Eight or ten drops of the reduced tincture should be given in water three times a day.

The root in decoction is an excellent remedy for other skin diseases of the scaly, itching, vesicular, pimply and ulcerative characters. Many persons think it superior to Sarsaparilla. The burs of this Dock are sometimes called "Cocklebuttons," or "Cucklebuttons," and "Beggarsbuttons." Its Anglo-Saxon name was "Fox's clote."

Boys throw them into the air at dusk to catch bats, which dart at the Bur in mistake for a moth or fly; [163] then becoming entangled with the thorny spines they fall helplessly to the ground. Of the botanical names, Arctium derived from arktos, a bear, in allusion to the roughness of the burs; and Lappa is from labein, to seize. Other appellations of the herb are Clot-bur (from sticking to clouts, or clothes), Clithe, Hurbur, and Hardock. The leaves when applied externally are highly resolvent for tumours, bruises, and gouty swellings. In the Philadelphia Recorder for January, 1893, a striking case is given of a fallen womb cured after twenty years' duration by a decoction of Burdock roots. The liquid extract acts as an admirable remedy in some forms (strumous) of longstanding indigestion. The roots contain starch; and the ashes of the plant burnt when green yield carbonate of potash abundantly, with nitre, and inulin.

The Yellow Curled Dock (Rumex crispus), so called because its leaves are crisped at their edges, grows freely in our roadside ditches, and waste places, as a common plant; and a medicinal tincture which is very useful (H.) is made from it before it flowers. This is of particular service for giving relief to an irritable tickling cough of the upper air-tubes, and the throat, when these passages are rough and sore, and sensitive to the cold atmosphere, with a dry cough occurring in paroxysms. It is likewise excellent for dispelling any obstinate itching of the skin, in which respect it was singularly beneficial against the contagious army-itch which prevailed during the last American war. It acts like Sarsaparilla chiefly, for curing scrofulous skin affections and glandular swellings. To be applied externally an ointment may be made by boiling the root in vinegar until the fibre is softened, and by then mixing the pulp with lard (to which some sulphur is [164] added at times). In all such cases of a scrofulous sort from five to ten drops of the tincture should be given two or three times a day with a spoonful of cold water.

Rumicin is the active principle of the Yellow Curled Dock; and from the root, containing chrysarobin, a dried extract is prepared officinally, of which from one to four grains may be given for a dose in a pill. This is useful for relieving a congested liver, as well as for scrofulous skin diseases.

"Huds," or the great Water Dock (Rumex hydrolapathum) is of frequent growth on our river banks, bearing numerous green flowers in leafless whorls, and being identical with the famous Herba Britannica of Pliny. This name does not denote British origin, but is derived from three Teuton words, brit, to tighten: tan, a tooth; and ica, loose; thus expressing its power of bracing up loose teeth and spongy gums. Swedish ladies employ the powdered root as a dentifrice; and gargles prepared therefrom are excellent for sore throat and relaxed uvula. The fresh root must be used, as it quickly turns yellow and brown in the air. The green leaves make a capital application for ulcers of the legs. They possess considerable acidity, and are laxative. Horace was aware of this fact, as we learn by his Sermonum, Libr. ii., Satir 4:—

"Si dura morabitur alvus, Mytulus, et viles pellent, obstantia conchae, Et Lapathi brevis herba, sed albo non sine Coo."



ELDER.

"'Arn,' or the common Elder," says Gerard, "groweth everywhere; and it is planted about cony burrows, for the shadow of the conies." Formerly it was much [165] cultivated near our English cottages, because supposed to afford protection against witches. Hence it is that the Elder tree may be so often seen immediately near old village houses. It acquired its name from the Saxon word eller or kindler, because its hollow branches were made into tubes to blow through for brightening up a dull fire. By the Greeks it was called Aktee. The botanical name of the Elder is Sambucus nigra, from sambukee, a sackbut, because the young branches, with their pith removed, were brought into requisition for making the pipes of this, and other musical instruments.

It was probably introduced as a medicinal plant at the time of the Monasteries. The adjective term nigra refers to the colour of the berries. These are without odour, rather acid, and sweetish to the taste. The French put layers of the flowers among apples, to which they impart, an agreeable odour and flavour like muscatel. A tract on Elder and Juniper Berries, showing how useful they may be in our Coffee Houses, is published with the Natural History of Coffee, 1682. Elder flowers are fatal to turkeys.

Hippocrates gave the bark as a purgative; and from his time the whole tree has possessed a medicinal celebrity, whilst its fame in the hands of the herbalist is immemorial. German writers have declared it contains within itself a magazine of physic, and a complete chest of medicaments.

The leaves when bruised, if worn in the hat, or rubbed on the face, will prevent flies from settling on the person. Likewise turnips, cabbages, fruit trees, or corn, if whipped with the branches and green leaves of Elder, will gain an immunity from all depredations of blight; but moths are fond of the blossom.

Dried Elder flowers have a dull yellow colour, being [166] shrivelled, and possessing a sweet faint smell, unlike the repulsive odour of the fresh leaves and bark. They have a somewhat bitter, gummy taste, and are sold in entire cymes, with the stalks. An open space now seen in Malvern Chase was formerly called Eldersfield, from the abundance of Elder trees which grew there. "The flowers were noted," says Mr. Symonds, "for eye ointments, and the berries for honey rob and black pigments. Mary of Eldersfield, the daughter of Bolingbroke, was famous for her knowledge of herb pharmacy, and for the efficacy of her nostrums."

Chemically the flowers contain a yellow, odorous, buttery oil, with tannin, and malates of potash and lime, whilst the berries furnish viburnic acid. On expression they yield a fine purple juice, which proves a useful laxative, and a resolvent in recent colds. Anointed on the hair they make it black.

A medicinal tincture (H.) is made from the fresh inner bark of the young branches. This, when given in toxical quantities, will induce profuse sweating, and will cause asthmatic symptoms to present themselves. When used in a diluted form it is highly beneficial for relieving the same symptoms, if they come on as an attack of illness, particularly for the spurious croup of children, which wakes them at night with a suffocative cough and wheezing. A dose of four or five drops, if given at once, and perhaps repeated in fifteen minutes, will straightway prove of singular service.

Sir Thomas Browne said that in his day the Elder had become a famous medicine for quinsies, sore throats, and strangulations.

The inspissated juice or "rob" extracted from the crushed berries, and simmered with white sugar, is cordial, aperient, and diuretic. This has long been a [167] popular English remedy, taken hot at bed-time, when a cold is caught. One or two tablespoonfuls are mixed with a tumblerful of very hot water. It promotes perspiration, and is demulcent to the chest. Five pounds of the fresh berries are to be used with one pound of loaf sugar, and the juice should be evaporated to the thickness of honey.

"The recent rob of the Elder spread thick upon a slice of bread and eaten before other dishes," says Dr. Blochwich, 1760, "is our wives' domestic medicine, which they use likewise in their infants and children whose bellies are stop't longer than ordinary; for this juice is most pleasant and familiar to children; or to loosen the belly drink a draught of the wine at your breakfast, or use the conserve of the buds."

Also a capital wine, which may well pass for Frontignac, is commonly made from the fresh berries, with raisins, sugar, and spices. When well brewed, and three years' old, it constitutes English port. "A cup of mulled Elder wine, served with nutmeg and sippets of toast, just before going to bed on a cold wintry night, is a thing," as Cobbet said, "to be run for." The juice of Elder root, if taken in a dose of one or two tablespoonfuls when fasting, acts as a strong aperient, being "the most excellent purger of watery humours in the world, and very singular against dropsy, if taken once in the week."

John Evelyn, in his Sylva (1729), said of the Elder: "If the medicinal properties of its leaves, bark, and berries, were fully known, I cannot tell what our countrymen could ail, for which he might not fetch a remedy from every hedge, either for sickness or wounds." "The buds boiled in water gruel have effected wonders in a fever," "and an extract composed [168] of the berries greatly assists longevity. Indeed,"—so famous is the story of Neander— "this is a catholicum against all infirmities whatever." "The leaves, though somewhat rank of smell, are otherwise, as indeed is the entire shrub, of a very sovereign virtue. The springbuds are excellently wholesome in pottage; and small ale, in which Elder flowers have been infused, are esteemed by many so salubrious, that this is to be had in most of the eating houses about our town."

"It were likewise profitable for the scabby if they made a sallet of those young buds, who in the beginning of the spring doe bud forth together with those outbreakings and pustules of the skin, which by the singular favour of nature is contemporaneous; these being sometimes macerated a little in hot water, together with oyle, salt, and vinegar, and sometimes eaten. It purgeth the belly, and freeth the blood from salt and serous humours" (1760). Further, "there be nothing more excellent to ease the pains of the haemorrhoids than a fomentation made of the flowers of the Elder and Verbusie, or Honeysuckle, in water or milk, for in a short time it easeth the greatest pain."

If the green leaves are warmed between two hot tiles, and applied to the forehead, they will promptly relieve nervous headache. In Germany the Elder is regarded with much respect. From its leaves a fever drink is made; from its berries a sour preserve, and a wonder-working electuary; whilst the moon-shaped clusters of its aromatic flowers, being somewhat narcotic, are of service in baking small cakes.

The Romans made use of the black Elder juice as a hair dye. From the flowers a fragrant water is now distilled as a perfume; and a gently stimulating ointment is prepared with lard for dressing burns and [169] scalds. Another ointment, concocted from the green berries, with camphor and lard, is ordered by the London College as curative of piles. "The leaves of Elder boiled soft, and with a little linseed oil added thereto, if then laid upon a piece of scarlet or red cloth, and applied to piles as hot as this can be suffered, being removed when cold, and replaced by one such cloth after another upon the diseased part by the space of an hour, and in the end some bound to the place, and the patient put warm to bed. This hath not yet failed at the first dressing to cure the disease, but if the patient be dressed twice, it must needs cure them if the first fail." The Elder was named Eldrun and Burtre by the Anglo-Saxons. It is now called Bourtree in Scotland, from the central pith in the younger branches which children bore out so as to make pop guns:—

"Bour tree—Bour tree: crooked rung, Never straight, and never strong; Ever bush, and never tree Since our Lord was nailed on thee."

The Elder is specially abundant in Kent around Folkestone. By the Gauls it was called "Scovies," and by the Britons "Iscaw."

This is the tree upon which the legend represents Judas as having hanged himself, or of which the cross was made at the crucifixion. In Pier's Plowman's Vision it is said:—

"Judas he japed with Jewen silver, And sithen an eller hanged hymselve."

Gerard says "the gelly of the Elder, otherwise called Jew's ear, taketh away inflammations of the mouth and throat if they be washed therewith, and doth in like Manner help the uvula." He refers here to a fungus [170] which grows often from the trunk of the Elder, and the shape of which resembles the human ear. Alluding to this fungus, and to the supposed fact that the berries of the Elder are poisonous to peacocks, a quaint old rhyme runs thus:—

"For the coughe take Judas' eare, With the paring of a peare, And drynke them without feare If you will have remedy."

"Three syppes for the hycocke, And six more for the chycocke: Thus will my pretty pycocke Recover bye and bye."

Various superstitions have attached themselves in England to the Elder bush. The Tree-Mother has been thought to inhabit it; and it has been long believed that refuge may be safely taken under an Elder tree in a thunderstorm, because the cross was made therefrom, and so the lightning never strikes it. Elder was formerly buried with a corpse to protect it from witches, and even now at a funeral the driver of the hearse commonly has his whip handle made of Elder wood. Lord Bacon commended the rubbing of warts with a green Elder stick, and then burying the stick to rot in the mud. Brand says it is thought in some parts that beating with an Elder rod will check the growth of boys. A cross made of the wood if affixed to cow-houses and stables was supposed to protect cattle from all possible harm.

Belonging to the order of Caprifoliaceous (with leaves eaten by goats) plants, the Elder bush grows to the size of a small tree, bearing many white flowers in large flat umbels at the ends of the branches. It gives off an unpleasant soporific smell, which is said to prove harmful to those that sleep under its shade. Our summer is [171] not here until the Elder is fully in flower, and it ends when the berries are ripe. When taken together with the berries of Herb Paris (four-leaved Paris) they have been found very useful in epilepsy. "Mark by the way," says Anatomie of the Elder (1760), "the berries of Herb Paris, called by some Bear, or Wolfe Grapes, is held by certain matrons as a great secret against epilepsie; and they give them ever in an unequal number, as three, five, seven, or nine, in the water of Linden tree flowers. Others also do hang a cross made of the Elder and Sallow, mutually inwrapping one another, about the children's neck as anti-epileptick." "I learned the certainty of this experiment (Dr. Blochwich) from a friend in Leipsick, who no sooner erred in diet but he was seized on by this disease; yet after he used the Elder wood as an amulet cut into little pieces, and sewn in a knot against him, he was free." Sheep suffering from the foot-rot, if able to get at the bark and young shoots of an Elder tree, will thereby cure themselves of this affection. The great Boerhaave always took off his hat when passing an Elder bush. Douglas Jerrold once, at a well-known tavern, ordered a bottle of port wine, which should be "old, but not Elder."

The Dwarf Elder (Sambucus ebulus) is quite a different shrub, which grows not infrequently in hedges and bushy places, with a herbaceous stem from two to three feet high. It possesses a smell which is less aromatic than that of the true Elder, and it seldom brings its fruit to ripeness. A rob made therefrom is actively purgative; one tablespoonful for a dose. The root, which has a nauseous bitter taste, was formerly used in dropsies. A decoction made from it, as well as from the inner bark, purges, and promotes free urination.

[172] The leaves made into a poultice will resolve swellings and relieve contusions. The odour of the green leaves will drive away mice from granaries. To the Dwarf Elder have been given the names Danewort, Danesweed, and Danesblood, probably because it brings about a loss of blood called the "Danes," or perhaps as a corruption of its stated use contra quotidianam. The plant is also known as Walewort, from wal—slanghter. It grows in great plenty about Slaughterford, Wilts, where there was a noted fight with the Danes; and a patch of it thrives on ground in Worcestershire, where the first blood was drawn in the civil war between the Parliament and the Royalists. Rumour says it will only prosper where blood has been shed either in battle, or in murder.



ELECAMPANE.

"Elecampane," writes William Coles, "is one of the plants whereof England may boast as much as any, for there grows none better in the world than in England, let apothecaries and druggists say what they will." It is a tall, stout, downy plant, from three to five feet high, of the Composite order, with broad leaves, and bright, yellow flowers. Campania is the original source of the plant (Enula campana), which is called also Elf-wort, and Elf-dock. Its botanical title is Helenium inula, to commemorate Helen of Troy, from whose tears the herb was thought to have sprung, or whose hands were full of the leaves when Paris carried her off from Menelaus. This title has become corrupted in some districts to Horse-heal, or Horse-hele, or Horse-heel, through a double, blunder, the word inula being misunderstood for hinnula, a colt; and the term Hellenium being thought to have something to do with healing, or [173] heels; and solely on this account the Elecampane has been employed by farriers to cure horses of scabs and sore heels. Though found wild only seldom, and as a local production in our copses and meadows, it is cultivated in our gardens as a medicinal and culinary herb. The name inula is only a corruption of the Greek elenium; and the herb is of ancient repute, having been described by Dioscorides. An old Latin distich thus celebrates its virtues: Enula campana reddit proecordia sana—"Elecampane will the spirits sustain." "Julia Augusta," said Pliny, "let no day pass without eating some of the roots of Enula condired, to help digestion, and cause mirth."

The inula was noticed by Horace, Satire viii., 51:—

"Erucos virides inulas ego primus amaras Monstravi incoquere."

Also the Enula campana has been identified with the herb Moly (of Homer), "apo tou moleuein, from its mitigating pain."

Prior to the Norman Conquest, and during the Middle Ages, the root of Elecampane was much employed in Great Britain as a medicine; and likewise it was candied and eaten as a sweetmeat. Some fifty years ago the candy was sold commonly in London, as flat, round cakes, being composed largely of sugar, and coloured with cochineal. A piece was eaten each night and morning for asthmatical complaints, whilst it was customary when travelling by a river to suck a bit of the root against poisonous exhalations and bad air. The candy may be still had from our confectioners, but now containing no more of the plant Elecampane than there is of barley in barley sugar.

Gerard says: "The flowers of this herb are in all [174] their bravery during June and July; the roots should be gathered in the autumn. The plant is good for an old cough, and for such as cannot breathe freely unless they hold their necks upright; also it is of great value when given in a loch, which is a medicine to be licked on. It voids out thick clammy humors, which stick in the chest and lungs." Galen says further: "It is good for passions of the huckle-bones, called sciatica." The root is thick and substantial, having, when sliced, a fragrant aromatic odour.

Chemically, it contains a crystalline principle, resembling camphor, and called "helenin"; also a starch, named "inulin," which is peculiar as not being soluble in water, alcohol, or ether; and conjointly a volatile oil, a resin, albumen, and acetic acid. Inulin is allied to starch, and its crystallized camphor is separable into true helenin, and alantin camphor. The former is a powerful antiseptic to arrest putrefaction. In Spain it is much used as a surgical dressing, and is said to be more destructive than any other agent to the bacillus of cholera. Helenin is very useful in ulceration within the nose (ozoena), and in chronic bronchitis to lessen the expectoration. The dose is from a third of a grain to two grains.

Furthermore, Elecampane counteracts the acidity of gouty indigestion, and regulates the monthly illnesses of women. The French use it in the distillation of absinthe, and term it l'aulnee, d'un lieu plante d'aulnes ou elle se plait. To make a decoction, half-an-ounce of the root should be gently boiled for ten minutes in a pint of water, and then allowed to cool. From one to two ounces of this may be taken three times in the day. Of the powdered root, from half to one teaspoonful may be given for a dose.

[175] A medicinal tincture (H.) is prepared from the root, of which thirty or forty drops may be taken for a dose, with two tablespoonfuls of cold water; but too large a dose will induce sickness. Elecampane is specifically curative of a sharp pain affecting the right elbow joint, and recurring daily; also of a congestive headache coming on through costiveness of the lowest bowel. Moreover, at the present time, when there is so much talk about the inoculative treatment of pulmonary consumption by the cultivated virus of its special microbe, it is highly interesting to know that the helenin of Elecampane is said to be peculiarly destructive to the bacillus of tubercular disease.

In classic times the poet Horace told how Fundanius first taught the making of a delicate sauce, by boiling in it the bitter Inula (Elecampane); and how the Roman stomach, when surfeited with an excess of rich viands, pined for turnips, and the appetising Enulas acidas from frugal Campania:—

"Quum rapula plenus Atque acidas mavult inulas."



EYEBRIGHT.

Found in abundance in summer time on our heaths, and on mountains near the sea, this delicate little plant, the Euphrasia officinalis, has been famous from earliest times for restoring and preserving the eyesight. The Greeks named the herb originally from the linnet, which first made use of the leaf for clearing its vision, and which passed on the knowledge to mankind. The Greek word, euphrosunee, signifies joy and gladness. The elegant little herb grows from two to six inches high, with deeply-cut leaves, and numerous white or [176] purplish tiny flowers variegated with yellow; being partially a parasite, and preying on the roots of other plants. It belongs to the order of scrofula-curing plants; and, as proved by positive experiment (H.), the Eyebright has been recently found to possess a distinct sphere of curative operation, within which it manifests virtues which are as unvarying as they are truly potential. It acts specifically on the mucous lining of the eyes and nose, and the uppermost throat to the top of the windpipe, causing, when given so largely as to be injurious, a profuse secretion from these parts; and, if given of reduced strength, it cures the same troublesome symptoms when due to catarrh.

An attack of cold in the head, with copious running from the eyes and nose, may be aborted straightway by giving a dose of the infusion (made with an ounce of the herb to a pint of boiling water) every two hours; as, likewise, for hay fever. A medicinal tincture (H.) is prepared from the whole plant with spirit of wine, of which an admirably useful lotion may be made together with rose water for simple inflammation of the eyes, with a bloodshot condition of their outer coats. Thirty drops of the tincture should be mixed with a wineglassful of rosewater for making this lotion, which may be used several times in the day.

What precise chemical constituents occur in the Eyebright beyond tannin, mannite, and glucose, are not yet recorded. In Iceland its expressed juice is put into requisition for most ailments of the eyes. Likewise, in Scotland, the Highlanders infuse the herb in milk, and employ this for bathing weak, or inflamed eyes. In France, the plant is named Casse lunettes; and in Germany, Augen trost, or, consolation of the eye.

[177] Surely the same little herb must have been growing freely in the hedge made famous by ancient nursery tradition:—

"Thessalus acer erat sapiens proe civibus unus Qui medium insiluit spinets per horrida sepem. Effoditque oculos sibi crudelissimus ambos. Cum vero effosos orbes sine lumine vidit Viribus enisum totis illum altera sepes Accipit, et raptos oculos cito reddit egenti."

"There was a man of Thessuly, and he was wondrous wise; He jumped into a quick set hedge, and scratched out both his eyes; Then, when he found his eyes were out, with all his might and main He jumped into the quick set hedge, and scratched them in again."

Old herbals pronounced it "cephalic, ophthalmic, and good for a weak memory." Hildamus relates that it restored the sight of many persons at the age of seventy or eighty years. "Eyebright made into a powder, and then into an electuary with sugar, hath," says Culpeper, "powerful effect to help and to restore the sight decayed through years; and if the herb were but as much used as it is neglected, it would have spoilt the trade of the maker."

On the whole it is probable that the Eyebright will succeed best for eyes weakened by long-continued straining, and for those which are dim and watery from old age. Shenstone declared, "Famed Euphrasy may not be left unsung, which grants dim eyes to wander leagues around"; and Milton has told us in Paradise Lost, Book XI:—

"To nobler sights Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, Then purged with Euphrasy and rue The visual nerve, for he had much to see."

[178] The Arabians I mew the herb Eyebright under the name Adhil, It now makes an ingredient in British herbal tobacco, which is smoked most usefully for chronic bronchial colds. Some sceptics do not hesitate to say that the Eyebright owes its reputation solely to the fact that the tiny flower bears in its centre a yellow spot, which is darker towards the middle, and gives a close resemblance to the human eye; wherefore, on the doctrine of signatures, it was pronounced curative of ocular derangements. The present Poet Laureate speaks of the herb as:—

"The Eyebright this. Whereof when steeped in wine I now must eat Because it strengthens mindfulness."

Grandmother Cooper, a gipsy of note for skill in healing, practised the cure of inflamed and scrofulous eyes, by anointing them with clay, rubbed up with her spittle, which proved highly successful. Outside was applied a piece of rag kept wet with water in which a cabbage had been boiled. As confirmatory of this cure, we read reverently in the Gospel of St. John about the man "which was blind from his birth," and for whose restoration to sight our Saviour "spat on the ground, and made clay of the spittle, and anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay." More than one eminent oculist has similarly advised that weak, ailing eyes should be daily wetted on waking with the fasting saliva. And it is well known that "mothers' marks" of a superficial character, but even of a considerable size, become dissipated by a daily licking with the mother's tongue. Old Mizaldus taught that "the fasting spittle of a whole and sound person both quite taketh away all scurviness, or redness of the face, ringworms, tetters, and all kinds [179] of pustules, by smearing or rubbing the infected place therewith; and likewise it clean puts away thereby all painful swelling by the means of any venomous thing as hornets, spiders, toads, and such like." Healthy saliva is slightly alkaline, and contains sulphocyanate of potassium.



FENNEL.

We all know the pleasant taste of Fennel sauce when eaten with boiled mackerel. This culinary condiment is made with Sweet Fennel, cultivated in our kitchen gardens, and which is a variety of the wild Fennel growing commonly in England as the Finkel, especially in Cornwall and Devon, on chalky cliffs near the sea. It is then an aromatic plant of the umbelliferous order, but differing from the rest of its tribe in producing bright yellow flowers.

Botanically, it is the Anethum foeniculum, or "small fragrant hay" of the Romans, and the Marathron of the Greeks. The whole plant has a warm carminative taste, and the old Greeks esteemed it highly for promoting the secretion of milk in nursing mothers. Macer alleged that the use of Fennel was first taught to man by serpents. His classical lines on the subject when translated run thus:—

"By eating herb of Fennel, for the eyes A cure for blindness had the serpent wise; Man tried the plant; and, trusting that his sight Might thus be healed, rejoiced to find him right."

"Hac mansa serpens oculos caligine purgat; Indeque compertum est humanis posse mederi Illum hominibus: atque experiendo probatum est."

Pliny also asserts that the ophidia, when they cast their skins, have recourse to this plant for restoring their [180] sight. Others have averred that serpents wax young again by eating of the herb; "Wherefore the use of it is very meet for aged folk."

Fennel powder may be employed for making an eyewash: half-a-teaspoonful infused in a wineglassful of cold water, and decanted when clear. A former physician to the Emperor of Germany saw a monk cured by his tutor in nine days of a cataract by only applying the roots of Fennel with the decoction to his eyes.

In the Elizabethan age the herb was quoted as an emblem of flattery; and Lily wrote, "Little things catch light minds; and fancie is a worm that feedeth first upon Fennel." Again, Milton says, in Paradise Lost, Book XI:—

"The savoury odour blown, Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense Than smell of sweetest Fennel."

Shakespeare makes the sister of Laertes say to the King, in Hamlet, when wishing to prick the royal conscience, "There's Fennel for you." And Falstaff commends Poins thus, in Henry the Fourth, "He plays at quoits well, and eats conger, and Fennel."

The Italians take blanched stalks of the cultivated Fennel (which they call Cartucci) as a salad; and in Germany its seeds are added to bread as a condiment, much as we put caraways in some of our cakes. The leaves are eaten raw with pickled fish to correct its oily indigestibility. Evelyn says the peeled stalks, soft and white, when "dressed like salery," exercise a pleasant action conducive to sleep. Roman bakers put the herb under their loaves in the oven to make the bread taste agreeably.

Chemically, the cultivated Fennel plant furnishes a volatile aromatic oil, a fixed fatty principle, sugar, and some [181] in the root; also a bitter resinous extract. It is an admirable corrective of flatulence; and yields an essential oil, of which from two to four drops taken on a lump of sugar will promptly relieve griping of the bowels with distension. Likewise a hot infusion, made by pouring half-a-pint of boiling water on a teaspoonful of the bruised seeds will comfort belly ache in the infant, if given in teaspoonful doses sweetened with sugar, and will prove an active remedy in promoting female monthly regularity, if taken at the periodical times, in doses of a wineglassful three times in the day. Gerard says, "The green leaves of the Fennel eaten, or the seed made into a ptisan, and drunk, do fill women's brestes with milk; also the seed if drunk asswageath the wambling of the stomacke, and breaketh the winde." The essential oil corresponds in composition to that of anise, but contains a special camphoraceous body of its own; whilst its vapour will cause the tears and the saliva to flow. A syrup prepared from the expressed juice was formerly given for chronic coughs.

W. Coles teaches in Nature's Paradise, that "both the leaves, seeds, and roots, are much used in drinks and broths for those that are grown fat, to abate their unwieldinesse, and make them more gaunt and lank." The ancient Greek name of the herb, Marathron, from maraino, to grow thin, probably embodied the same notion. "In warm climates," said Matthiolus, "the stems are cut, and there exudes a resinous liquid, which is collected under the name of fennel gum."

The Edinburgh Pharmacopoeia orders "Sweet Fennel seeds, combined with juniper berries and caraway seeds, for making with spirit of wine, the 'compound spirit of juniper,' which is noted for promoting a copious flow of urine in dropsy." The bruised plant, if applied [182] externally, will speedily relieve toothache or earache. This likewise proves of service as a poultice to resolve chronic swellings. Powdered Fennel is an ingredient in the modern laxative "compound liquorice powder" with senna. The flower, surrounded by its four leaves, is called in the South of England, "Devil in a bush." An old proverb of ours, which is still believed in New England, says, that "Sowing Fennel is sowing sorrow." A modern distilled water is now obtained from the cultivated plant, and dispensed by the druggist. The whole herb has been supposed to confer longevity, strength and courage. Longfellow wrote a poem about it to this effect.

The fine-leaved Hemlock Water Dropwort (Oenanthe Phellandrium), is the Water Fennel.



FERNS.

Only some few of our native Ferns are known to possess medicinal virtues, though they may all be happily pronounced devoid of poisonous or deleterious properties. As curative simples, a brief consideration will be given here to the common male and female Ferns, the Royal Fern, the Hart's Tongue, the Maidenhair, the common Polypody, the Spleenwort, and the Wall Rue. Generically, the term "fern" has been referred to the word "feather," because of the pinnate leaves, or to farr, a bullock, from the use of the plants as litter for cattle. Ferns are termed Filices, from the Latin word filum, a thread, because of their filamentary fronds. Each of those now particularized owes its respective usefulness chiefly to its tannin; while the few more specially endowed with healing powers yield also a peculiar chemical acid "filicic," which is fatal to worms. In an old charter, A.D. 855, the [183] right of pasturage on the common Ferns was called "fearnleswe," or Pascua procorum, the pasturage of swine (from fearrh, a pig). Matthiolus when writing of the ferns, male and female, says, Utriusque radice sues pinguescunt. In some parts of England Ferns at large are known as "Devil's brushes"; and to bite off close to the ground the first Fern which appears in the Spring, is said, in Cornwall, to cure toothache, and to prevent its return during the remainder of the year.

The common Male Fern (Filix mas) or Shield Fern, grows abundantly in all parts of Great Britain, and has been known from the times of Theophrastus and Dioscorides, as a specific remedy for intestinal worms, particularly the tape worm. For medicinal purposes, the green part of the rhizome is kept and dried; this is then powdered, and its oleo-resin is extracted by ether. The green fixed oil thus obtained; which is poisonous to worms, consists of the glycerides of filocylic and filosmylic acids, with tannin, starch, gum, and sugar. The English oil of Male Fern is more reliable than that which is imported from the Continent. Twenty drops made into an emulsion with mucilage should be given every half-hour on an empty stomach, until sixty or eighty drops have been taken. It is imprudent to administer the full quantity in a single dose. The treatment should be thus pursued when the vigour of the parasite has been first reduced by a low diet for a couple of days, and is lying within the intestines free from alimentary matter; a purgative being said to assist the action of the plant, though it is, independently, quite efficacious. The knowledge of this remedy had become lost, until it was repurchased for fifteen thousand francs, in 1775, by the French king, under the advice of his principal physicians, from Madame Nouffer, [184] a surgeon's widow in Switzerland, who employed it as a secret mode of cure with infallible success. Her method consisted in giving from one to three drams of the powdered root, after using a clyster, and following the dose up with a purge of scammony and calomel. The rhizome should not be used medicinally if more than a year old. A medicinal tincture (H.) is now prepared from the root-stock with proof spirit, in the autumn when the fronds are dying.

The young shoots and curled leaves of the Male Fern, which is distinguished by having one main rib, are sometimes eaten like asparagus; whilst the fronds make an excellent litter for horses and cattle. The seed of this and some other species of Fern is so minute (one frond producing more than a million) as not to be visible to the naked eye. Hence, on the doctrine of signatures, the plant—like the ring of Gyges, found in a brazen horse—has been thought to confer invisibility. Thus Shakespeare says, Henry IV., Act II., Scene 1, "We have the receipt of Fern seed; we walk invisible."

Bracken or Brakes, which grows more freely than any other of the Fern tribe throughout England, is the Filix foemina, or common Female Fern. The fronds of this are branched, whilst the male plant having only one main rib, is more powerful as an astringent, and antiseptic; "the powder thereof freely beaten healeth the galled necks of oxen and other cattell." Bracken is also named botanically, Pteris aquilina, because the figure which appears in its succulent stem when cut obliquely across at the base, has been thought to resemble a spread eagle; and, therefore, Linnaeus termed the Fern Aquilina. Some call it, for the same reason, "King Charles in the oak tree"; and in Scotland the symbol is said to be an impression of the Devil's foot. [185] Again, witches are reputed to detest this Fern, since it bears on its cut root the Greek letter X, which is the initial of Christos.

In Ireland it is called the Fern of God, because of the belief that if the stem be cut into three sections, on the first of these will be seen the letter G; on the second O; and on the third D.

An old popular proverb says about this Bracken:—

"When the Fern is as high as a spoon You may sleep an hour at noon, When the Fern is as high as a ladle You may sleep as long as you're able, When the Fern is looking red Milk is good with faire brown bread."

The Bracken grows almost exclusively on waste places and uncultivated ground; or, as Horace testified in Roman days, Neglectis urenda filix innascitur agris. It contains much potash; and its ashes were formerly employed in the manufacture of soap. The young tops of the plant are boiled in Hampshire for hogs' food, and the peculiar flavour of Hampshire bacon has been attributed to this custom. The root affords much starch, and is used medicinally. "For thigh aches" [sciatica], says an old writer, "smoke the legs thoroughly with Fern braken."

During the Seventeenth Century it was customary to set growing Brakes on fire with the belief that this would produce rain. A like custom of "firing the Bracken" still prevails to-day on the Devonshire moors. By an official letter the Earl of Pembroke admonished the High Sheriff of Stafford to forbear the burning of Ferns during a visit of Charles I., as "His Majesty desired that the country and himself may enjoy fair weather as long as he should remain in those parts."

In northern climates a coarse kind of bread is made [186] from the roots of the Brake Fern; whilst in the south the young shoots are often sold in bundles as a salad. (Some writers give the name of Lady Fern, not to the Bracken, but to the Asplenium filix foemina, because of its delicate and graceful foliage.) The Bracken has branched riblets, and is more viscid, mucilaginous, and diuretic, than the Male Fern.

Its ashes when burnt contain much vegetable alkali which has been used freely in making glass.

It was customary to "watch the Fern" on Midsummer eve, when the plant put forth at dusk a blue flower, and a wonderful seed at midnight, which was carefully collected, and known as "wish seed." This gave the power to discover hidden treasures, whilst to drink the sap conferred perpetual youth.

The Royal Fern (Osmunda regalis), grows abundantly in many parts of Great Britain, and is the stateliest of Ferns in its favourite watery haunts. It heeds a soil of bog earth, and is incorrectly styled "the flowering Fern," from its handsome spikes of fructification. One of its old English names is "Osmund, the Waterman"; and the white centre of its root has been called the heart of Osmund. This middle part boiled in some kind of liquor was supposed good for persons wounded, dry-beaten, and bruised, or that have fallen from some high place. The name "Osmund" is thought to be derived from os, the mouth, or os, bone, and mundare, to cleanse, or from gross mond kraut, the Greater Moonwort; but others refer it to Saint Osmund wading a river, whilst bearing the Christ on his shoulders. The root or rhizome has a mucilaginous slightly bitter taste. The tender sprigs of the plant at their first coming are "good to be put into balmes, oyles, and healing plasters." Dodonoeus says, "the harte of the root of [187] Osmonde is good against squattes, and bruises, heavie and grievous falles, and whatever hurte or dislocation soever it be." "A conserve of these buds," said Dr. Short of Sheffield, 1746, "is a specific in the rickets; and the roots stamped in water or gin till the liquor becometh a stiff mucilage, has cured many most deplorable pains of the back, that have confined the distracted sufferers close to bed for several weeks." This mucilage was to be rubbed over the vertebrae of the back each night and morning for five or six days together. Also for rickets, "take of the powdered roots with the whitest sugar, and sprinkle some thereof on the child's pap, and on all his liquid foods." "It maketh a noble remedy," said Dr. Bowles, "without any other medicine." The actual curative virtues of this Fern are most probably due to the salts of lime, potash, and other earths, which it derives in solution from the bog soil, and from the water in which it grows. On July 25th it is specially dedicated to St. Christopher, its patron saint.

The Hart's Tongue or Hind's Tongue, is a Fern of common English growth in shady copses on moist banks, it being the Lingua cervina of the apothecaries, and its name expressing the shape of its fronds. This, the Scolopendrium vulgare, is also named "Button-hole," "Horse tongue;" and in the Channel Islands "Godshair." The older physicians esteemed it as a very valuable medicine; and Galen gave it for diarrhoea or dysentery. By reason of its tannin it will restrain bleedings, "being commended," says Gerard, "against the bloody flux." People in rural districts make an ointment from its leaves for burns and scalds. It was formerly, in company with the common Maidenhair Fern, one of the five great capillary herbs. Dr. Tuthill Massy advises the drinking, in Bright's disease, of as much as three [188] half-pints daily of an infusion of this Fern, whilst always taking care to gather the young shoots. Also, in combination (H.) with the American Golden Seal (Hydrastis canadensis). the Hart's Tongue has served in not a few authenticated cases to arrest the progress of that formidable disease, diabetes mellitus. Its distilled water will quiet any palpitations of the heart, and will stay the hiccough; it will likewise help the falling of the palate (relaxed throat), or stop bleeding of the gums if the mouth be gargled therewith.

From the Ophioglossum vulgatum, "'Adder's tongue,' or 'Christ's Spear,' when boiled in olive oil is produced a most excellent greene oyle. Or rather a balsam for greene wounds, comparable to oyle of St. John's Wort; if it doth not far surpasse it." A preparation from this plant known as the "green oil of charity," is still in request as a vulnerary, and remedy for wounds.

The true Maidenhair Fern (Adiantum capillus veneris), of exquisite foliage, and of a dark crimson colour, is a stranger in England, except in the West country. But we have in greater abundance the common Maidenhair (Asplenium trichomanes), which grows on old walls, and which will act as a laxative medicine; whilst idiots are said to have taken it remedially, so as to recover their senses. The true Maidenhair is named Adiantum, from the Greek: Quod denso imbre cadente destillans foliis tenuis non insidet humor, "Because the leaves are not wetted even by a heavily falling shower of rain." "In vain," saith Pliny, "do you plunge the Adiantum into water, it always remains dry." This veracious plant doth "strengthen and embellish the hair." It, occurs but rarely with us; on damp rocks, and walls near the sea. The Maidenhair is called Polytrichon because it brings forth a multitude of hairs; [189] Calitrichon because it produces black and faire hair; Capillus veneris because it fosters grace and love.

From its fine hairlike stems, and perhaps from its attributed virtues in toilet use, this Fern has acquired the name of "Our Lady's Hair" and "Maria's Fern." "The true Maidenhair," says Gerard, "maketh the hair of the head and beard to grow that is fallen and pulled off." From this graceful Fern a famous elegant syrup is made in France called Capillaire; which is given as a favourite medicine in pulmonary catarrh. It is flavoured with orange flowers, and acts as a demulcent with slightly stimulating effects. One part of the plant is gently boiled with ten parts of water, and with nineteen parts of white sugar. Dr. Johnson says Boswell used to put Capillaire into his port wine. Sir John Hill instructed us that (as we cannot get the true Maidenhair fresh in England) the fine syrup made in France from their Fern in perfection, concocted with pure Narbonne honey, is not by any means to be thought a trifle, because barley water, sweetened with this, is one of the very best remedies for a violent cold. But a tea brewed from our more common Maidenhair will answer the same purpose for tedious coughs. Its leaves are sweet, mucilaginous, and expectorant, being, therefore, highly useful in many pulmonary disorders.

The common Polypody Fern, or "rheum-purging Polypody" grows plentifully in this country on old walls and stumps of trees, in shady places. In Hampshire it is called "Adder's Tongue," as derived from the word attor, poison; also Wall-fern, and formerly in Anglo-Saxon Ever-fern, or Boar-fern. In Germany it is said to have sprung from the Virgin's milk, and is named Marie bregue. The fresh root has been used successfully in decoction, or powdered, for melancholia; [190] also of late for general rheumatic swelling of the joints. By the ancients it was employed as a purgative. Six drachms by weight of the root should be infused for two hours in a pint of boiling water, and given in two doses. This is the Oak Fern of the herbalists; not that of modern botanists (Polypodium dryopteris); it being held that such Fern plants as grew upon the roots of an oak tree were of special medicinal powers, Quod nascit super radices quercus est efficacius. The true Oak Fern (Dryopteris) grows chiefly in mountainous districts among the mossy roots of old oak trees, and sometimes in marshy places. If its root is bruised and applied to the skin of any hairy part, whilst the person is sweating, this will cause the hair to come away. Dioscorides said, "The root of Polypody is very good for chaps between the fingers." "It serveth," writes Gerard, "to make the belly soluble, being boiled in the broth of an old cock, with beets or mallows, or other like things, that move to the stool by their slipperiness." Parkinson says: "A dram or two, it need be, of the powdered dry roots taken fasting, in a cupful of honeyed water, worketh gently as a purge, being a safe medicine, fit for all persons and seasons, which daily experience confirmeth." "Applied also to the nose it cureth the disease called polypus, which by time and sufferance stoppeth the nostrils." The leaves of the Polypody when burnt furnish a large proportion of carbonate of Potash.

The Spleenwort (Asplenium ceterach—an Arabian term), or Scaly Fern, or Finger Fern, grows on old walls, and in the clefts of moist rocks. It is also called "Miltwaste," because supposed to cure disorders of the milt, or spleen:—

"The Finger Fern, which being given to swine, It makes their milt to melt away in fine."

[191] Very probably this reputed virtue has mainly become attributed to the plant, because the lobular milt-like shape of its leaf resembles the form of the spleen. "No herbe maie be compared therewith," says one of the oldest Herbals, "for his singular virtue to help the sicknesse or grief of the splene." Pliny ordered: "It should not be given to women, because it bringeth barrenness." Vitruvius alleged that in Crete the flocks and herds were found to be without spleens, because they browsed on this fern. The plant was supposed when given medicinally to diminish the size of the enlarged spleen or "ague-cake."

The Wall Rue (Ruta muraria) is a white Maidenhair Fern, and is named by some Salvia vitoe. It is a small herb, somewhat nearly of the colour of Garden Rue, and is likewise good for them that have a cough, or are shortwinded, or be troubled with stitches in the sides. It stayeth the falling or shedding of the hair, and causeth them to grow thick, fair, and well coloured. This plant is held by those of judgment and experience, to be as effectual a capillary herb as any whatever. Also, it helpeth ruptures in children. Matthiolus "hath known of divers holpen therein by taking the powder of the herb in drink for forty days together." Its leaves are like those of Rue, and the Fern has been called Tentwort from its use as a specific or sovereign remedy for the cure of rickets, a disease once known as "the taint."

The generic appellations of the several species of Ferns are derived thus: Aspidium, from aspis, a shield, because the spores are enclosed in bosses; Pteris, from pteerux, a wing, having doubly pinnate fronds; or from pteron, a feather, having feathery fronds; Scolopendrium, because the fructification is supposed to resemble the feet of Scoltpendra, a genus of mydrapods; and Polypody, many footed, by reason of the pectinate fronds.

[192] There grows in Tartary a singular polypody Fern, of which the hairy foot is easily made to simulate in form a small sheep. It rises above the ground with excrescences resembling a head and tail, whilst having four leg-like fronds. Fabulous stories are told about this remarkable Fern root; and in China its hairy down is so highly valued as a styptic for fresh bleeding cuts and wounds, that few families will be without it. Dr. Darwin, in his Loves of the Plants, says about this curious natural production, the Polypodium Barometz:—

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



FEVERFEW.

The Feverfew is one of the wild Chamomiles (Pyrethrum Parthenium), or Matricaria, so called because especially useful for motherhood. Its botanical names come from the Latin febrifugus, putting fever to flight, and parthenos, a virgin. The herb is a Composite plant, and grows in every hedgerow, with numerous small heads of yellow flowers, having outermost white rays, but with an upright stem; whereas that of the true garden Chamomile is procumbent. The whole plant has a pungent odour, and is particularly disliked by bees. A double variety is cultivated in gardens for ornamental purposes.

The herb Feverfew is strengthening to the stomach, preventing hysteria and promoting the monthly functions of women. It is much used by country mediciners, though insufficiently esteemed by the doctors of to-day.

[193] In Devonshire the plant is known as "Bachelor's buttons," and at Torquay as "Flirtwort," being also sometimes spoken of as "Feathyfew," or "Featherfull."

Gerard says it may be used both in drinks, and bound on the wrists, as of singular virtue against the ague.

As "Feverfue," it was ordered, by the Magi of old, "to be pulled from the ground with the left hand, and the fevered patient's name must be spoken forth, and the herbarist must not look behind him." Country persons have long been accustomed to make curative uses of this herb very commonly, which grows abundantly throughout England. Its leaves are feathery and of a delicate green colour, being conspicuous even in mid-winter. Chemically, the Feverfew furnishes a blue volatile oil; containing a camphoraceous stearopten, and a liquid hydrocarbon, together with some tannin, and a bitter mucilage.

The essential oil is medicinally useful for correcting female irregularities, as well as for obviating cold indigestion. The herb is also known as "Maydeweed," because useful against hysterical distempers, to which young women are subject. Taken generally it is a positive tonic to the digestive and nervous systems. Out chemists make a medicinal tincture of Feverfew, the dose of which is from ten to twenty drops, with a spoonful of water, three times a day. This tincture, if dabbed oil the parts with a small sponge, will immediately relieve the pain and swelling caused by bites of insects or vermin. In the official guide to Switzerland directions are given to take "a little powder of the plant called Pyrethrum roseum and make it into a paste with a few drops of spirit, then apply this to the hands and face, or any exposed part of the body, and let it [194] dry: no mosquito or fly will then touch you." Or if two teaspoonfuls of the tincture are mixed with half a pint of cold water, and if all parts of the body likely to be exposed to the bites of insects are freely sponged therewith they will remain unassailed. Feverfew is manifestly the progenitor of the true Chamomilla (Anthemis nobilis), from which the highly useful Camomile "blows," so commonly employed in domestic medicine, are obtained, and its flowers, when dried, may be applied to the same purposes. An infusion of them made with boiling water and allowed to become cold, will allay any distressing sensitiveness to pain in a highly nervous subject, and will afford relief to the faceache or earache of a dyspeptic or rheumatic person. This Feverfew (Chrysanthemum parthenium), is best calculated to pacify those who are liable to sudden, spiteful, rude irascibility, of which they are conscious, but say they cannot help it, and to soothe fretful children. "Better is a dinner or such herbs, where love is; than a stalled ox, and hatred therewith."



FIGS.

"In the name of the Prophet 'Figs'" was the pompous utterance ascribed to Dr. Johnson, whose solemn magniloquent style was simulated as Eastern cant applied to common business in Rejected Addresses, by the clever humorists, Horace and James Smith, 1812. The tree which produces this fruit belongs to the history of mankind. In Paradise Adam partook of figs, and covered his nakedness with the leaves.

Though indigenous to Western Asia, Figs have been cultivated in most countries from a remote period, and will ripen in England during a warm summer if screened from north-east winds. The fig tree flourishes best with [195] us on our sea coasts, bathed by the English Channel, by reason of the salt-laden atmosphere. Near Gosport, and at Fig Valleys, in the neighbourhood of Worthing, there are orchards of figtrees; but they remain barren in this country as far as affording seed to be raised anew from the ripened fruit. The first figtrees introduced into England are still alive and productive in the gardens of the Archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth, having been planted there by Cardinal Pole in the time of Henry the Eighth. We call the Sunday before Easter "Fig Sunday," probably because of our Saviour's quest of the fruit when going from Bethany the next day.

By the Jews a want of blossom on the Fig tree was considered a grievous calamity. On the Saturday preceding Palm Sunday (says Miss Baker), the market at Northampton is abundantly supplied with figs, and more of the fruit is purchased at this time than throughout the rest of the year. Even charity children are regaled in some parts with figs on the said Sunday; whilst in Lancashire fig pies made of dried figs with sugar and treacle are eaten beforehand in Lent.

In order to become fertilised, figs (of which the sexual apparatus lies within the fruit) must have their outer skin perforated by certain gnats of the Cynips tribe, which then penetrate to the interior whilst carrying with them the fertilising pollen; but these gnats are not found in this country. Producers of the fruit abroad bearing the said fact in view tie some of the wild fruit when tenanted by the Culex fly to the young cultivated figs.

Foreign figs are dried in the oven so as to destroy the larvae of the Cynips insect, and are then compressed into small boxes. They consist in this state almost exclusively of mucilage and sugar.

[196] Only one kind of Fig comes to ripeness with us in England, the great blue Fig, as large as a Catherine pear. "It should be grown," says Gerard, "under a hot wall, and eaten when newly gathered, with bread, pepper, and salt; or it is excellent in tarts." This fruit is soft, easily digested, and corrective of strumous disease. Dried Turkey Figs, as imported, contain glucose (sugar), starch, fat, pectose, gum, albumen, mineral matter, collulose, and water. They are used by our druggists as an ingredient in confection of senna for a gentle laxative effect. When split open, and applied as hot as they can be borne against gumboils, and similar suppurative gatherings, they afford ease, and promote maturation of the abscess; and likewise they will help raw, unhealthy sores to heal. The first poultice of Figs on record is that employed by King Hezekiah 260 years before Christ, at the instance of the prophet Isaiah, who ordered to "take a lump of Figs; and they took it, and laid it on the boil, and the King recovered" (2 Kings xx. 7).

The Fig is said to have been the first fruit, eaten as food by man. Among the Greeks it formed part of the ordinary Spartan fare, and the Athenians forbade exportation of the best Figs, which were highly valued at table. Informers against those who offended in this respect were called Suko phantai, or Fig discoverers—our Sycophants.

Bacchus was thought to have acquired his vigour and corpulency from eating Figs, such as the Romans gave to professed wrestlers and champions for strength and good sustenance.

Dodonoeus said concerning Figs, Alimentum amplius quam coeteri proebent; and Pliny spoke of them as the best restorative for those brought low by languishing [197] disease, with loss of their colour. It was under the Perpul tree (Ficus religiosa) Buddha attained Nirvada.

The botanical name ficus has been derived from the Greek verb phuo to generate, and the husbandry of Figs was called by the Latins "caprification." The little fig-bird of the Roman Campagna pays a yearly visit in September to the fig orchards on our Sussex coast.

When eaten raw, dried Figs prove somewhat aperient, and they are apt to make the mouth sore whilst masticating them. Their seeds operate mechanically against constipation, though sometimes irritating the lining membrane of the stomach and bowels. Grocers prepare from the pulp of these foreign dried figs, when mixed with honey, a jam called "figuine," which is wholesome, and will prevent costiveness if eaten at breakfast with bread.

The pulp of Turkey Figs is mucilaginous, and has been long esteemed as a pectoral emollient for coughs: also when stewed and, added to ptisans, for catarrhal troubles of the air passages, and of other mucous canals.

In its fresh green state the fruit secretes a mildly acrid juice, which will destroy warts; this afterwards becomes saccharine and oily. The dried Figs of the shops give no idea of the fresh fruit as enjoyed in Italy at breakfast, which then seem indeed a fruit of paradise, and which contain a considerable quantity of grape sugar. In the Regimen of the School of Salerno (eleventh century) we read:—

"Scrofa, tumor, glandes, ficus cataplasma sedet, Swines' evil, swellings, kernels, a plaster of figs will heal."

Barley water boiled with dried Figs (split open), liquorice root, and raisins, forms the compound decoction of barley prescribed by doctors as a capital demulcent; [198] and an admirable gargle for inflamed sore throat may be made by boiling two ounces of the Figs in half-a-pint of water, which is to be strained when cool. Figs cooked in milk make an excellent drink for costive persons.

In the French codex a favourite pectoral medicine is composed of Figs, stoned dates, raisins, and jujubes.

Formerly the poisoned Fig was used in Spain as a secret means for getting rid of an enemy. The fruit was so common there that to say "a fig for you!" and "I give you the fig" became proverbial expressions of contempt. In fiocchi (in gala costome), is an Italian phrase which we now render as "in full fig."