Chaps. 14-29.

Chap. 14. (6.)—How the Several Varieties of the Violet Are Respectively Produced, Grown, and Cultivated. The Three Different Colours of the Violet. The Five Varieties of the Yellow Violet.

Next after the roses and the lilies, the violet is held in the highest esteem: of this there are several varieties, the purple, [The Viola odorata of Linnæus.] the yellow, and the white, all of them reproduced from plants, like the cabbage. The purple violet, which springs up spontaneously in sunny spots, with a thin, meagre soil, has larger petals than the others, springing immediately from the root, which is of a fleshy substance. This violet has a name, too, distinct from the other wild kinds, being called “ion,” [The Greek name.] and from it the ianthine [“Ianthina vestis,” violet-coloured.] cloth takes its name.

Among the cultivated kinds, the yellow [Desfontaines identifies this with the Cheiranthus Cheiri; but Fée says that there is little doubt that it belongs to the Viola tricolor herbensis (pansy, or heart’s-ease), in the petals of which the yellow predominates, and the type of which is the field violet, or Viola arvensis, the flowers of which are extremely small, and entirely yellow.] violet is held in the greatest esteem. The Tusculan violet, and that known as the “marine” [This has been identified with the Cheiranthus incanus, the Cheiranthus tricuspidatus of the shores of the Mediterranean, the Hesperis maritima of Linnæus; also, by some commentators, with the Campanula Medium of Linnæus.] violet, have petals somewhat broader than the others, but not so odoriferous; the Calatian [So called, according to Pintianus and Salmasius, from Calatia, a town of Italy. Fée adopts the reading “Calathiana,” and considers it to have received that name from its resemblance to the Caltha mentioned in the next Chapter. Dalechamps identifies it with the Digitalis purpurea; Gessner, Dodonæus, and Thalius, with the Gentiana pneumonanthe, others with the Gentiana ciliata and Pannonica, and Sprengel with the Gentiana verna of Linnæus. Fée admits himself totally at a loss on the subject.] violet, too, which has a smaller leaf, is entirely destitute of smell. This last is a present to us from the autumn, the others from the spring.

Chap. 15.—The Caltha. The Scopa Regia.

Next to it comes the caltha, the flowers of which are of similar colour and size; [“Concolori amplitudine.” Gronovius, with considerable justice, expresses himself at a loss as to the exact meaning of these words. If Sprengel and Salmasius are right in their conjectures that the Caltha of Pliny and Virgil is the marigold, our Calendula officinalis, the passage cannot mean that the flower of it is of the same size and colour with any variety of the violet mentioned in the preceding Chapter. From the description given of it by Dioscorides, it is more than probable that the Caltha of the ancients is not the marigold, and Hardouin is probably right in his conjecture that Pliny intends to describe a variety of the violet under the name. Fée is at a loss as to its identification.] in the number of its petals, however, it surpasses the marine violet, the petals of which are never more than five in number. The marine violet is surpassed, too, by the other in smell; that of the caltha being very powerful. The smell, too, is no less powerful in the plant known as the “scopa regia;” [Or “royal broom.” Sprengel thinks that this is the Chenopodium scoparia, a plant common in Greece and Italy; and Fée is inclined to coincide with that opinion, though, as he says, there are numerous other plants with odoriferous leaves and pliant shoots, as its name, broom, would seem to imply. Other writers would identify it with a Sideritis, and others, again, with an Achillæa.] but there it is the leaves of the plant, and not the flowers, that are odoriferous.

Chap. 16.—The Bacchar. The Combretum. Asarum.

The bacchar, [See B. xii. c. 26. Fée is inclined to coincide with Ruellius, and to identify this with the Digitalis purpurea, clown’s spikenard, or our Lady’s gloves. The only strong objection to this is the fact that the root of the digitalis has a very faint but disagreeable smell, and not at all like that of cinnamon. But then, as Fée says, we have no positive proof that the “cinnamomum” of the ancients is identical with our cinnamon. See Vol. iii. p. 138. Sprengel takes the “bacchar” of Virgil to be the Valeriana Celtica, and the “baccharis” of the Greeks to be the Gnaphalium sanguineum, a plant of Egypt and Palestine. The bacchar has been also identified with the Asperula odorata of Linnæus, the Geum urbanum of Linnæus (the root of which has the smell of cloves), the Inula Vaillantii, the Salvia Sclarea, and many other plants.] too, by some persons known as “field nard,” is odoriferous in the root only. In former times, it was the practice to make unguents of this root, as we learn from the poet Aristophanes, a writer of the Ancient Comedy; from which circumstance some persons have erroneously given the name of “exotic” [“Barbaricam.” Everything that was not indigenous to the territory of Rome, was “barbarum,” or “barbaricum.”] to the plant. The smell of it strongly resembles that of cinnamomum; and the plant grows in thin soils, which are free from all humidity.

The name of “combretum” [Cæsalpinus says that this is a rushy plant, called, in Tuscany, Herba luziola; but Fée is quite at a loss for its identification.] is given to a plant that bears a very strong resemblance to it, the leaves of which taper to the fineness of threads; in height, however, it is taller than the bacchar. These are the only [Sillig is most probably right in his surmise that there is an hiatus here.] * * * * The error, however, ought to be corrected, on the part of those who have bestowed upon the bacchar the name of “field nard;” for that in reality is the surname given to another plant, known to the Greeks as “asaron,” the description and features of which we have already [In B. xii. c. 27. Asarum Europæum, or foal-foot.] mentioned, when speaking of the different varieties of nard. I find, too, that the name of “asaron” has been given to this plant, from the circumstance of its never [Probably meaning that it comes from ἀ, “not,” and σαίρω, “to adorn.”] being employed in the composition of chaplets.

Chap. 17.—Saffron: In What Places It Grows Best. What Flowers Were Known at the Time of the Trojan War.

The wild saffron [Or Crocus, the Crocus sativus of Linnæus, from the prepared stigmata of which the saffron of commerce is made. It is still found growing wild on the mountains in the vicinity of Athens, and is extensively cultivated in many parts of Europe.] is the best; indeed, in Italy it is of no use whatever to attempt to propagate it, the produce of a whole bed of saffron being boiled down to a single scruple; it is reproduced by offsets from the bulb. The cultivated saffron is larger, finer, and better looking than the other kinds, but has much less efficacy. This plant is everywhere degenerating, [“Degenerans ubique.” Judging from what he states below, he may possibly mean, if grown repeatedly on the same soil.] and is far from prolific at Cyrenæ even, a place where the flowers are always of the very finest quality. The most esteemed saffron, however, is that of Cilicia, and there of Mount Corycus in particular; next comes the saffron of Mount Olympus, in Lycia, and then of Centuripa, in Sicily; some persons, however, have given the second rank to the Phlegræan [He may allude either to the city of Phlegra of Macedonia, or to the Phlegræan Plains in Campania, which were remarkable for their fertility. Virgil speaks of the saffron of Mount Tmolus in Cilicia.] saffron.

There is nothing so much adulterated [It is very extensively adulterated with the petals of the marigold, as also the Carthamus tinctorius, safflower, or bastard saffron.] as saffron: the best proof of its goodness is when it snaps under pressure by the fingers, as though it were friable; [This is the case; for when it is brittle it shows that it has not been adulterated with water, to add to its weight.] for when it is moist, a state which it owes to being adulterated, it is limp, and will not snap asunder. Another way of testing it, again, is to apply it with the hand to the face, upon which, if good, it will be found to be slightly caustic to the face and eyes. There is a peculiar kind, too, of cultivated saffron, which is in general extremely mild, being only of middling [Perhaps the reading here, “Cum sit in medio candidum,” is preferable; “because it is white in the middle.”] quality; the name given to it is “dialeucon.” [“White throughout.”] The saffron of Cyrenaica, again, is faulty in the opposite extreme; for it is darker than any other kind, and is apt to spoil very quickly. The best saffron everywhere is that which is of the most unctuous quality, and the filaments of which are the shortest; the worst being that which emits a musty smell.

Mucianus informs us that in Lycia, at the end of seven or eight years, the saffron is transplanted into a piece of ground which has been prepared for the purpose, and that in this way it is prevented from degenerating. It is never [He contradicts himself here; for in c. 79 of this Book, he says that chaplets of saffron are good for dispelling the fumes of wine.] used for chaplets, being a plant with an extremely narrow leaf, as fine almost as a hair; but it combines remarkably well with wine, sweet wine in particular. Reduced to a powder, it is used to perfume [“Ad theatra replenda.” It was the custom to discharge saffron-water over the theatres with pipes, and sometimes the saffron was mixed with wine for the purpose. It was discharged through pipes of very minute bore, so that it fell upon the spectators in the form of the finest dust. See Lucretius, B. ii. l. 416; Lucan, Phars. ix. l. 808-810; and Seneca, Epist. 92.] the theatres.

Saffron blossoms about the setting of the Vergiliæ, for a few days [It flowers so rapidly, in fact, that it is difficult to avoid the loss of a part of the harvest.] only, the leaf expelling the flower. It is verdant [The whole of this passage is from Theophrastus, De Odorib.] at the time of the winter solstice, and then it is that they gather it; it is usually dried in the shade, and if in winter, all the better. The root of this plant is fleshy, and more long-lived [This statement, though borrowed from Theophrastus, is not consistent with fact. The root of saffron is not more long-lived than any other bulbs of the Liliaceæ.] than that of the other bulbous plants. It loves to be beaten and trodden [Because, Dalechamps says, all the juices are thereby thrown back into the root, which consequently bears a stronger flower the next year.] under foot, and in fact, the worse it is treated the better it thrives: hence it is, that it grows so vigorously by the side of foot-paths and fountains. (7.) Saffron was already held in high esteem in the time of the Trojan War; at all events, Homer, [Il. xiv. l. 348.] we find, makes mention of these three flowers, the lotus, [see B. xiii. c. 32.] the saffron, and the hyacinth.

Chap. 18.—The Nature of Odours.

All the odoriferous [All these statements as to the odours of various substances, are from Theophrastus, De Causis, B. vi. c. 22.] substances, and consequently the plants, differ from one another in their colour, smell, and juices. It is but rarely [He does not say, however, that it is but rarely that a bitter substance is not odoriferous; a sense in which Fée seems to have understood him, as he says, “This assertion is not true in general, and there are numerous exceptions; for instance, quassia wood, which is inodorous and yet intensely bitter.” The essential oil, he remarks, elaborated in the tissue of the corolla, is the ordinary source of the emanations of the flower.] that the taste of an odoriferous substance is not bitter; while sweet substances, on the other hand, are but rarely odoriferous. Thus it is, too, that wine is more odoriferous than must, and all the wild plants more so than the cultivated ones. [Fée remarks that cultivation gives to plants a softer and more aqueous consistency, which is consequently injurious to the developement of the essential oil.] Some flowers have a sweet smell at a distance, the edge of which is taken off when they come nearer; such is the case with the violet, for instance. The rose, when fresh gathered, has a more powerful smell at a distance, and dried, [Theophrastus, from whom this is borrowed, might have said with more justice, Fée remarks, that certain roses have more odour when dried than when fresh gathered. Such is the case, he says, with the Provence rose. Fresh roses, however, have a more pronounced smell, the nearer they are to the olfactory organs.] when brought nearer. All plants have a more penetrating odour, also, in spring [This is by no means invariably the case: in fact, the smell of most odoriferous plants is most powerful in summer.] and in the morning; as the hour of midday approaches, the scent becomes gradually weakened. [Because the essential oils evaporate more rapidly.] The flowers, too, of young plants are less odoriferous than those of old ones; but it is at mid-age [With Littré, we adopt the reading “ætate,” “mid-age,” and not “æstate,” “midsummer,” for although the assertion would be in general correct, Pliny would contradict the statement just made, that all plants have a more penetrating odour in spring. This reading is supported also by the text of Theophrastus.] that the odour is most penetrating in them all.

The rose and the crocus [Or saffron.] have a more powerful smell when gathered in fine weather, and all plants are more powerfully scented in hot climates than in cold ones. In Egypt, however, the flowers are far from odoriferous, owing to the dews and exhalations with which the air is charged, in consequence of the extended surface of the river. Some plants have an agreeable, though at the same time extremely powerful smell; some, again, while green, have no [This is a just observation, but the instances might be greatly extended, as Fée says.] smell at all, owing to the excess of moisture, the buceros for example, which is the same as fenugreek. [See B. xviii. c..] Not all flowers which have a penetrating odour are destitute of juices, the violet, the rose, and the crocus, for example; those, on the other hand, which have a penetrating odour, but are destitute of juices, have all of them a very powerful smell, as we find the case with the two varieties [The white lily and the red lily. See c. of this Book.] of the lily. The abrotonum [As to the Abrotonum, see B. xiii. c. 2, and c. of this Book.] and the amaracus [See c. of this Book.] have a pungent smell. In some plants, it is the flower only that is sweet, the other parts being inodorous, the violet and the rose, for example.

Among the garden plants, the most odoriferous are the dry ones, such as rue, mint, and parsley, as also those which grow on dry soils. Some fruits become more odoriferous the older they are, the quince, for example, which has also a stronger smell when gathered than while upon the tree. Some plants, again, have no smell but when broken asunder, or when bruised, and others only when they are stripped of their bark. Certain vegetable substances, too, only give out a smell when subjected to the action of fire, such as frankincense and myrrh, for example. All flowers are more bitter to the taste when bruised than when left untouched. [Or in other words, the interior of the petals has a more bitter flavour than that of the exterior surface.] Some plants preserve their smell a longer time when dried, the melilote, for example; others, again, make the place itself more odoriferous where they grow, the iris [Pliny makes a mistake here, in copying from Theophrastus. De Causis, B. vi. c. 25. That author is speaking not of the flower, but of the rainbow, under the name of “iris.” Pliny has himself made a similar statement as to the rainbow, in B. xii. c. 52, which he would appear here to have forgotten.] for instance, which will even render the whole of a tree odoriferous, the roots of which it may happen to have touched. The hesperis [The Cheiranthus tristis of Linnæus, or sad gilliflower, Fée thinks.] has a more powerful odour at night, a property to which it owes its name.

Among the animals, we find none that are odoriferous, unless, indeed, we are inclined to put faith in what has been said about the panther. [See B. viii. c. 23. Pliny did not know of the existence of the musk-deer, the Muschus moschiferus of Eastern Asia: and he seems not to have thought of the civet, (if, indeed, it was known to him) the fox, the weasel, and the polecat, the exhalations from which have a peculiar smell. The same, too, with the urine of the panther and other animals of the genus Felis.]

Chap. 19.—The Iris.

There is still another distinction, which ought not to be omitted,—the fact, that many of the odoriferous plants never [For some superstitious reason, in all probability. Pliny mentions below, the formalities with which this plant ought to be gathered.] enter into the composition of garlands, the iris [See B. xiii. c. 2. The ancient type of this plant, our iris, sword-lily, or flower-de-luce, was probably the Iris Florentina or Florentine iris of modern botany.] and the saliunca, for example, although, both of them, of a most exquisite odour. In the iris, it is the root [At the present day, too, it is the root of the plant that is the most important part of it.] only that is held in esteem, it being extensively employed in perfumery and medicine. The iris of the finest quality is that found in Illyricum, [The Iris Florentina, probably, of Linnæus.] and in that country, even, not in the maritime parts of it, but in the forests on the banks of the river Drilon [Mentioned by Nicander, Theriaca, l. 43.] and near Narona. The next best is that of Macedonia, [Probably a variety only of the preceding kind.] the plant being extremely elongated, white, and thin. The iris of Africa [The most common varieties in Africa are the Iris alata of Lamarck, I. Mauritanica of Clusius, I. juncea, and I. stylosa of Desfontaines.] occupies the third rank, being the largest of them all, and of an extremely bitter taste.

The iris of Illyricum comprehends two varieties—one of which is the raphanitis, so called from its resemblance to the radish, [“Raphanus.” C. Bauhin identifies the Rhaphanitis with the Iris biflora, and the Rhizotomus with the Iris angustifolia prunum redolens.] of a somewhat red colour, and superior [See c. of this Book.] in quality to the other, which is known as the “rhizotomus.” The best kind of iris is that which produces sneezing [No kind of iris, Fée says, fresh or dried, whole or powdered, is productive of this effect.] when handled. The stem of this plant is a cubit in length, and erect, the flower being of various colours, like the rainbow, to which circumstance it is indebted for its name. The iris, too, of Pisidia [Very similar, probably, to that of Illyria.] is far from being held in disesteem. Persons [All these superstitions are from Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. B. ix. c. 9.] who intend taking up the iris, drench the ground about it some three months before with hydromel, as though a sort of atonement offered to appease the earth; with the point of a sword, too, they trace three circles round it, and the moment they gather it, they lift it up towards the heavens.

The iris is a plant of a caustic nature, and when handled, it causes blisters like burns to rise. It is a point particularly recommended, that those who gather it should be in a state of chastity. The root, not only when dried, [This, Fée says, is quite consistent with modern experience.] but while still in the ground, is very quickly attacked by worms. In former times, it was Leucas and Elis that supplied us with the best oil [“Irinum.” See B. xiii. c. 2.] of iris, for there it has long been cultivated; at the present day, however, the best comes from Pamphylia, though that of Cilicia and the northern climates is held in high esteem.

Chap. 20.—The Saliunca.

The saliunca [Probably the Valeriana Celtica of Linnæus. See B. xii. c. 27, where it is mentioned as Gallic nard.] has a rather short leaf, which does not admit of its being plaited for garlands, and numerous roots, by which it is held together; being more of a herb than a flower, and so closely matted and tangled that it would almost appear to have been pressed together with the hand—in short, it is a turf [“Cæspes.”] of a peculiar nature. This plant grows in Pannonia and the sunny regions of Noricum and the Alps, as also the vicinity of the city of Eporedia; [See B. iii. c. 21.] the smell being so remarkably sweet that the crops of it have been of late quite as profitable as the working of a mine. This plant is particularly valued for the pleasant smell it imparts to clothes among which it is kept.

Chap. 21.—The Polium, or Teuthrion.

It is the same, too, with the polium, [Probably the Teucrium polium of Linnæus; the herb poley, or poley-mountain.] a herb employed for a similar purpose among the Greeks, and highly extolled by Musæus and Hesiod, who assert that it is useful for every purpose, and more particularly for the acquisition of fame and honour; [By those who carry it on their person.] indeed, it is a truly marvellous production, if it is the fact, as they state, that its leaves are white in the morning, a purple at midday, and azure [This marvel is related by Dioscorides in reference to the Tripolium, and not the Polium.] at sunset. There are two varieties of it, the field polium, which is larger, and the wild, [The Teucrium montanum, probably, of Linnæus.] which is more diminutive. Some persons give it the name of “teuthrion.” [This name belongs, properly, to the wild or mountain Polium.] The leaves resemble the white hairs of a human being; they take their rise immediately from the root, and never exceed a palm in height.

Chap. 22. (8.)—Fabrics Which Rival the Colours of Flowers.

We have now said enough on the subject of the odoriferous flowers; in relation to which, luxury not only glories in having vanquished Nature in the composition of unguents, but has even gone so far as to challenge, in her fabrics, those flowers which are more particularly recommended by the beauty of their tints. I remark that the following are the three principal [“Principales.” The meaning of this term is explained at the end of this Chapter. Red, yellow, and blue—or else, red, green, and violet, are probably the primary colours of light.] colours; the red, that of the kermes [See B. ix. c. 65, and B. xvi. c. 12. He alludes to the Coccus ilicis of Linnæus.] for instance, which, beginning in the tints of the rose, reflects, when viewed [See B. xxxvii. c. 40, as to the meaning of the word “Suspectus.” This passage, however, as Sillig remarks, is hopelessly corrupt.] sideways and held up to the light, the shades that are found in the Tyrian purple, [See B. ix. cc. 60, 63.] and the colours of the dibapha [“Doubly-dyed,” or “twice dipped,” in purple. See B. ix. c. 63. Littré remarks here that, according to Doctor Bizio, it was the Murex brandaris that produced the Tyrian purple, and the Murex trunculus the amethystine purple.] and Laconian cloths: the amethystine colour, which is borrowed from the violet, and to which, bordering as it does on the purple, we have given the name of “ianthinum” [Or “violet-colour.” See B. xxxvii. c. 40.] —it must, however, be remembered, that we here give a general name to a colour which is subdivided into numerous tints [For further information on these tints, see B. ix. cc. 64, 65.] —and a third, properly known as the “conchyliated” colour, but which comprehends a variety of shades, such, for instance, as the tints of the heliotropium, and others of a deeper colour, the hues of the mallow, inclining to a full purple, and the colours of the late [Belonging, probably, Fée thinks, to the Cruciferæ of the genera Hesperis and Cheiranthus.] violet; this last being the most vivid, in fact, of all the conchyliated tints. The rival colours being now set side by side, Nature and luxury may enter the lists, to vie for the mastery.

I find it stated that, in the most ancient times, yellow was held in the highest esteem, but was reserved exclusively for the nuptial veils [“Flammeis” The “flammeum,” or flame-coloured veil of the bride, was of a bright yellow, or rather orange-colour, perhaps.] of females; for which reason it is perhaps that we do not find it included among the principal colours, those being used in common by males and females: indeed, it is the circumstance of their being used by both sexes in common that gives them their rank as principal colours.

Chap. 23.—The Amaranth.

There is no doubt that all the efforts of art are surpassed by the amaranth, [The Celosia cristata of Linnæus.] which is, to speak correctly, rather a purple ear [“Spica.” The moderns have been enabled to equal the velvety appearance of the amaranth in the tints imparted by them to their velvets. The Italians call it the “velvet-flower.”] than a flower, and, at the same time, quite inodorous. It is a marvellous feature in this plant, that it takes a delight in being gathered; indeed, the more it is plucked, the better it grows. It comes into flower in the month of August, and lasts throughout the autumn. The finest of all is the amaranth of Alexandria, which is generally gathered for keeping; for it is a really marvellous [The real fact is, that the amaranth, being naturally a dry flower, and having little humidity to lose, keeps better than most others.] fact, that when all the other flowers have gone out, the amaranth, upon being dipped in water, comes to life again: it is used also for making winter chaplets. The peculiar quality of the amaranth is sufficiently indicated by its name, it having been so called from the circumstance that it never fades. [From the Greek ἀ, “not,” and μαραίνεσθαι, “to fade.”]

Chap. 24.—The Cyanos: The Holochrysos.

The name, [Being the Greek for “blue” or “azure.”] too, of the cyanos [The Centaurea cyanus of Linnæus; our blue-bell.] indicates its colour, and so does that of the holochrysos. [Meaning “all gold.” It has been identified with the Gnaphalium stœchas of Linnæus, the immortelle of the French, which forms the ingredient for their funereal chaplets.] None of these flowers were in use in the time of Alexander the Great, for the authors, we find, who flourished at a period immediately after his decease, have made not the slightest mention of them; from which circumstance it is very clear that they only came into fashion at a later period. Still, however, who can entertain any doubt that they were first introduced by the Greeks, from the fact that Italy has only their Greek names by which to designate them?

Chap. 25.—The Petilium: The Bellio.

But, by Hercules! it is Italy herself that has given its name to the petilium, [Sprengel says that this is the Geum rivale of Linnæus; but then the Geum is a spring, and not an autumn flower, its blossoms bear no resemblance to those of the eglantine, and its seeds are not yellow.] an autumnal flower, which springs up in the vicinity of thorny brakes, and recommends itself solely by its colour, which is that of the wild rose. The petals of it are small, and five in number; and it is a remarkable circumstance in this plant, that the head of it droops at first, and it is only after it becomes erect that the petals make their appearance, forming a small corolla of various colours, enclosing a yellow seed.

The bellio, [Generally supposed to be the Chrysanthemum segetum, or golden daisy.] too, is a yellow flower, formed of [“Pastillicantibus quinquagenis quinis barbulis coronatur.” Pliny is unusually verbose here.] fifty-five filaments circularly arranged, in the shape of a chaplet. These are, both of them, meadow flowers, which are mostly of no use whatever, and consequently without names: even the flowers just mentioned are known sometimes by one name, and sometimes by another.

Chap. 26.—The Chrysocome, or Chrysitis.

The chrysocome, [“Golden locks,” or “gold plant;” probably the Chrysocoma linosyris of Linnæus; though the name appears to have been given to numerous plants.] or chrysitis, has no Latin appellation: it is a palm in height, the flowers forming clusters of a golden colour. The root of it is black, and it has a taste both rough and sweet: it is found growing in stony and umbrageous spots.

Chap. 27. (9.)—Shrubs, the Blossoms of Which Are Used for Chaplets.

Having thus passed in review nearly all the best-known colours, we must now give our attention to the chaplets which are pleasing merely on account of the variety of their materials. Of such chaplets there are two kinds, one composed of flowers, the other of leaves. The flowers so employed, I may say, are those of broom [See B. xvi. c. 69, B. xviii. c., B. xix. c., B. xxiv. c. 40; also c. of the present Book.] —the yellow blossom gathered from it—the rhododendron, [The Nerium oleander of Linnæus. See B. xvi. c. 33, and B. xxiv. cc. 47, 49.] and the jujube, [As to the Zizyphum, or jujube, see B. xv. c. 14. The flower, as Pliny says, is not unlike that of the olive; but Fée remarks, that it may at the present day as justly be called the tree of Provence or of Italy, as in ancient times “the tree of Cappadocia.”] also known as the tree of Cappadocia, which bears an odoriferous flower similar to that of the olive. Among the brambles, too, we find the cyclaminum growing, of which we shall have to speak more at length on a future occasion: [B. xxv. c. 67.] its flower, which reflects the hues of the purple of Colossæ, [See B. v. c. 41.] is used as an ingredient in chaplets.

Chap. 28.—Shrubs, the Leaves of Which Are Used for Chaplets.

The leaves, also, of smilax and ivy are employed in chaplets; indeed, the clusters of these plants are held in the very highest esteem for this purpose: we have already [See B. xvi. cc. 62 and 63, and B. xxiv. cc. 47 and 49.] spoken of them at sufficient length when treating of the shrubs. There are also other kinds of shrubs, which can only be indicated by their Greek names, little attention having been paid by the framers of our language to this branch of nomenclature. Most of them grow in foreign countries, it is true; but still, it is our duty to make some mention of them, as it is of Nature in general that we are speaking, and not of Italy in particular.

Chap. 29.—The Melothron, Spiræa, and Origanum. The Cneorum or Cassia; Two Varieties of It. The Melissophyllum or Melittæna. The Melilote, Otherwise Known as Campanian Garland.

Thus it is, that we find employed for chaplets, the leaves of the melothron, [Or Vitis alba, “white vine,” the Bryonia dioica of modern botany. See B. xxiii. c..] spiræa, [The Spiræa salicifolia of Linnæus, or meadowsweet.] origanum, [See B. xx. c. 67, and c. of this Book.] cneorum, [The Daphne Cnidium of Linnæus. See B. xxiii. c.; also B. xii. c. 43. It is altogether different from the Laurus cassia, or genuine cassia.] by Hyginus called “cassia,” conyza or cunilago, [See B. xx. c..] melissophyllon or apiastrum, [See B. xx. c..] and melilote, known to us by the name of “Campanian [“Sertula Camapana.”] garland,” the best kind of melilote [Most probably, Fée thinks, the Trifolium Melilotus officinalis, a clover, or trefoil.] in Italy being that of Campania, in Greece that of Cape Sunium, and next to that the produce of Chalcidice and Crete: but wherever this plant grows it is only to be found in rugged and wild localities. The name “sertula” or “garland,” which it bears, sufficiently proves that this plant was formerly much used in the composition of chaplets. The smell, as well as the flower, closely resembles that of saffron, though the stem itself is white; the shorter and more fleshy the leaves, the more highly it is esteemed.