MILKWORT.—In olden times, the Milkwort (Polygala vulgaris), bore the names of Cross-flower, Rogation-flower, Gang-flower, and Procession-flower, which were given it because, according to ancient usage, maidens made garlands of the flower, and carried them in procession during Rogation Week. At this period it was customary to offer prayers against plagues, fires, and wild beasts, and as the bounds of the parish were traversed on one of the days, it was also termed Gang Week. This custom was a relic of the ancient Ambarvalia. The bishop, or one of the clergy, perambulated the limits of the parish with the Holy Cross and Litanies, and invoked the blessing of God upon the crops; on which occasion, Bishop Kennett tells us, the maidens made garlands and nosegays of the Milkwort, which blossomed in Rogation Week, the next but one before the Whitsuntide.——Gerarde relates that, in Queen Elizabeth’s time, Milkwort-flowers were “vulgarly knowne in Cheapside to the herbe women by the name of Hedge Hyssop.” The plant was called Milkwort from an old belief that it increased the milk of mothers who took it.——A Javanese species, Polygala venenata, is greatly dreaded by the natives of Java for its poisonous effects; violent sneezing and faintness seizes anyone touching the leaves of this ill-omened plant.
MILLET.—According to Schlegel, Millet has, among the Chinese, given its name to the constellation Tien-tzi, “Celestial Millet,” which is composed of five stars, and presides at the grain harvest. Its clearness and brilliance presage an abundant harvest, its absence foretells famine. This constellation the Chinese consider as the residence of the King of the Cereals.——The grain of Millet has become proverbial as indicative of anything minute: possibly on this account, Millet portends misery if seen in a dream.——There is a legend in North Germany, that, long ago, a rich merchant had a fine garden, in which was a piece of land sown with Millet. One day the merchant discovered that a part of the Millet had been shorn during the preceding night, so he set his three sons to watch in case the theft should be repeated. Both the eldest and the second son fell asleep during their respective vigils; and on each occasion the theft was repeated, and further portions of the Millet disappeared. On the third night, the youngest son, John, agreed to watch: he surrounded himself with Thorns and Thistles, so that if he felt sleepy, and began to nod, the Thorns should prick him, and thus keep him awake. At midnight he heard a tramping, and then a sound of munching among the Millet: pushing aside the Thorns, John sprang out from his hiding-place, and saw a beautiful little colt feeding on the Millet. To catch the little animal was an easy task, and it was soon safely locked up in the stable. The merchant, overjoyed at the capture his vigilant son John had made, made him a present of the colt, which he named Millet-thief. Soon after this, the brothers heard of a beautiful princess who was kept by enchantment confined in a palace that stood on the top of a glass mountain, which no one, on account of its being so slippery, could ascend; but it was said that whosoever should be so fortunate as to reach its summit, and ride thrice round the palace, would disenchant the princess and obtain her hand in marriage. Numbers had already endeavoured to ride up the slippery mountain, but were precipitated to its foot; and their skeletons lay bleaching all around. The three brothers determined to try and ascend the mountain, but, alas, the two eldest fell with their horses down the treacherous mountain side, and lay sorely hurt. Then John saddled his little colt Millet-thief, and to his delight, when ridden to the mountain, he easily rattled up to its summit, and trotted round the palace three times as though he knew the road perfectly. Soon they stood in front of the palace-gates, which opened spontaneously, and the lovely princess stepped forth with a cry of joy, as she recognised in Millet-thief her own little colt, who had been accustomed to take her by night down the steep mountain, so that she might enjoy a gallop across the green fields—the only indulgence permitted her by the cruel enchanter. Then the princess bestowed her hand upon her deliverer, and they lived happily, far removed from worldly cares, in the palace on the glass mountain.
MIMOSA.—The Mimosa Catechu, according to Indian mythology, was the tree which sprang from the claw lost by a falcon whilst engaged in purloining the heavenly Soma, or Amrita, the drink of immortality. The Vedas recount that, when the gods were pining for the precious beverage, the falcon undertook to steal it from the demons who kept it shut up: the attempt was successful, but the falcon, whilst flying off with its prize, was wounded by an arrow discharged by one of the demons, and lost a claw and a feather. They fell to earth, and struck root there; the claw becoming the Indian Thorn-tree, or Mimosa Catechu—the younger branches of which have straight thorns, that afterwards become hooked, and bear a strong resemblance to a bird’s claw.——Bishop Heber tells us that, whilst travelling in Upper India, he saw, near Boitpoor, a Mimosa-tree, with leaves at a little distance so much resembling those of the Mountain Ash, that he was for a moment deceived, and asked if it did not bear fruit. The Bishop says: “They answered no; but that it was a very noble tree, being called the Imperial Tree for its excellent properties. That it slept all night, and awakened, and was alive all day, withdrawing its leaves if any one attempted to touch them. Above all, however, it was useful as a preservative against magic. A sprig worn in the turban, or suspended over the bed, was a perfect security against all spells, Evil Eye, &c., insomuch that the most formidable wizard would not, if he could help it, approach its shade. One, indeed, they said, who was very renowned for his power (like Lorinite, in the Kehama) of killing plants and drying up their sap with a look, had come to this very tree and gazed on it intently; but, said the old man, who told me this with an air of triumph, look as he might, he could do the tree no harm. I was amazed and surprised to find the superstition which in England and Scotland attaches to the Rowan-tree here applied to a tree of nearly similar form. What nation has, in this case, been the imitator? Or from what common centre are these common notions derived?”——The Mimosa sensitiva is the true Sensitive Plant, which collapses its leaflets upon the slightest touch (see [Sensitive Plant]); and another member of this singular family droops its branches whenever anyone approaches; hence Moore has called it
“That courteous tree
Which bows to all who seek its canopy.”
Frankincense is the product of the Egyptian Mimosa, a tree spoken of by Theophrastus as an Acanthus, and referred to by Virgil.
MIMUSOPS.—The Mimusops Elengi is one of the sacred trees of India, and dedicated to the god Krishna. An odoriferous water, highly prized, is distilled from the flowers, and the astringent bark of the tree is used medicinally.
MINT.—Ovid tells us, in his ‘Metamorphoses,’ that the nymph Minthe, a daughter of Cocytus, was beloved of Pluto, and that Proserpine, discovering her husband’s infidelity, transformed his mistress into the herb which is called by her name.——In olden times, Mint (Mentha) was called Herba bona and Herba sancta, and the ancients were wont to weave garlands of its foliage to be worn by brides—corona Veneris. In later days, the herb was dedicated to the Virgin, under the name of Herba Sanctæ Mariæ.——It was formerly customary to strew the churches with Mint or other herbs or flowers. In ‘Appius and Virginia,’ an old play, is an illustration of this custom:—
“Thou knave, but for thee ere this time of day
My lady’s fair pew had been strewed full gay