leave those strings to make a broad beard down to the foot."
The witchcraft literature of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
contains numerous allusions to the diabolical practice--a superstition
immortalised by Shakespeare. The mandrake, from its supposed mysterious
character, was intimately associated with witches, and Ben Jonson, in
his "Masque of Queens," makes one of the hags who has been gathering
this plant say,

"I last night lay all alone
On the ground, to hear the mandrake groan;
And plucked him up, though he grew full low,
And, as I had done, the cock did crow."

We have already incidentally spoken of the vervain, St. John's wort,
elder, and rue as antagonistic to witchcraft, but to these may be added
many other well-known plants, such as the juniper, mistletoe, and
blackthorn. Indeed, the list might be greatly extended--the vegetable
kingdom having supplied in most parts of the world almost countless
charms to counteract the evil designs of these malevolent beings. In our
own country the little pimpernel, herb-paris, and cyclamen were formerly
gathered for this purpose, and the angelica was thought to be specially
noisome to witches. The snapdragon and the herb-betony had the
reputation of averting the most subtle forms of witchcraft, and dill and
flax were worn as talismans against sorcery. Holly is said to be
antagonistic to witches, for, as Mr. Folkard[24] says, "in its name they
see but another form of the word 'holy,' and its thorny foliage and
blood-red berries are suggestive of the most Christian associations."
Then there is the rowan-tree or mountain-ash, which has long been
considered one of the most powerful antidotes against works of darkness
of every kind, probably from its sacred associations with the worship of