According to Crollius, the woody scales of which the cones of the pine-tree are composed "resemble the fore-teeth;" hence pine-leaves boiled in vinegar were used as a garlic for the relief of toothache. White-coral, from its resemblance to the teeth, was also in requisition, because "it keepeth children to heed their teeth, their gums being rubbed therewith." For improving the complexion, an ointment made of cowslip-flowers was once recommended, because, as an old writer observes, it "taketh away the spots and wrinkles of the skin, and adds beauty exceedingly." Mr. Burgess, in his handy little volume on "English Wild Flowers" (1868, 47), referring to the cowslip, says, "the village damsels use it as a cosmetic, and we know it adds to the beauty of the complexion of the town-immured lassie when she searches for and gathers it herself in the early spring morning." Some of the old herbalists speak of moss gathered from a skull as useful for disorders of the head, and hence it was gathered and preserved.

The rupture-wort (Herniaria glabra) was so called from its fancied remedial powers, and the scabious in allusion to the scaly pappus of its seeds, which led to its use in leprous diseases. The well-known fern, spleen-wort (Asplenium), had this name applied to it from the lobular form of the leaf, which suggested it as a remedy for diseases of the spleen. Another of its nicknames is miltwaste, because:—

"The finger-ferne, which being given to swine,
It makes their milt to melt away in fine—"

A superstition which seems to have originated in a curious statement made by Vitruvius, that in certain localities in the island of Crete the flocks and herds were found without spleen from their browsing on this plant, whereas in those districts in which it did not grow the reverse was the case. [20]

The yellow bark of the berberry-tree (Berberis vulgaris), [21] when taken as a decoction in ale, or white wine, is said to be a purgative, and to have proved highly efficacious in the case of jaundice, hence in some parts of the country it is known as the "jaundice-berry." Turmeric, too, was formerly prescribed—a plant used for making a yellow dye; [22] and celandine, with its yellow juice, was once equally in repute. Similar remedies we find recommended on the Continent, and in Westphalia an apple mixed with saffron is a popular curative against jaundice. [23] Rhubarb, too, we are told, by the doctrine of signatures, was the "life, soul, heart, and treacle of the liver." Mr. Folkard [24] mentions a curious superstition which exists in the neighbourhood of Orleans, where a seventh son without a daughter intervening is called a Marcon. It is believed that, "the Marcon's body is marked somewhere with a Fleur-de-Lis, and that if a patient suffering under king's-evil touch this Fleur-de-Lis, or if the Marcon breathe upon him, the malady will be sure to disappear."

As shaking is one of the chief characteristics of that tedious and obstinate complaint ague, so there was a prevalent notion that the quaking-grass (Briza media), when dried and kept in the house, acted as a most powerful deterrent. For the same reason, the aspen, from its constant trembling, has been held a specific for this disease. The lesser celandine (Ranunculus ficaria) is known in many country places as the pilewort, because its peculiar tuberous root was long thought to be efficacious as a remedial agent. And Coles, in his "Art of Simpling," speaks of the purple marsh-wort (Comarum palustre) as "an excellent remedy against the purples." The common tormentil (Tormentilla officinalis), from the red colour of its root, was nicknamed the "blood-root," and was said to be efficacious in dysentery; while the bullock's-lungwort derives its name from the resemblance of its leaf to a dewlap, and was on this account held as a remedy for the pneumonia of bullocks.[25] Such is the curious old folk-lore doctrine of signatures, which in olden times was regarded with so much favour, and for a very long time was recognised, without any questioning, as worthy of men's acceptation. It is one of those popular delusions which scientific research has scattered to the winds, having in its place discovered the true medicinal properties of plants, by the aid of chemical analysis.

Footnotes:

1. Pettigrew's "Medical Superstitions," 1844, p. 18.

2. Tylor's "Researches into the Early History of Mankind," 1865, p. 123;
Chapiel's "La Doctrine des Signatures," Paris, 1866.

3. "Flowering Plants of Great Britain," iv. 109; see Dr. Prior's
"Popular Names of British Plants," 1870-72.