In the childhood of humanity, the earth was a very romantic place. In addition to the familiar human inhabitants, there were whole races of supernatural and invisible beings which wielded great influence over the every-day world of affairs. Every plant was considered good or evil, according to the character of the spirits which it was believed to harbour. People of this practical age are inclined to look upon these stories with contemptuous intolerance. “We have outgrown such baby-talk,” they say, and forthwith relegate whole kingdoms of elfin hosts to their children’s nurseries, or possibly refuse them their homes entirely. But to a few discerning minds, these idle dreams of a romantic past offer a most refreshing contrast to present-day utilitarianism. The airy fancies of our forefathers should have a larger share in our thought today. A single flower myth contains more beauty and enduring appeal than a hundred steel mills. We must go back to the youth of the race,--to the time of Shakespeare, Milton, and gentle Ben Jonson,--for our noblest literature. In those days, men actually believed in fairies, goblins, and all the rest, and were probably better for having done so. We, with our broader intellectual outlook, can congratulate ourselves that we have advanced beyond such things, but still appreciate their spirit and their beauty. In studying plant mythology, it is interesting to notice that certain traditions and legends are to be found in all parts of the world and in many widely separated localities, forming, as it were, the ground-work of a great universal system of folklore. This would suggest that plant myths are founded mainly on true and inherent facts rather than on passing fancies. Almost all the nations have chosen the Rose for the queen of the floral court, and therefore the most fitting symbol of love. The White Lily has purity written on its spotless petals, and could never stand for anything else, anywhere. The Poppy is a brilliant, sensuous flower, quite suggestive of the narcotic excesses which its opium induces. Many extravagant plant beliefs of the past had their foundation in medicine. In the Middle Ages, quacks and charlatans used herbs having curative powers to exhort money from the masses. A few of the correctives were of real value, but there were thousands of out-and-out deceptions. Even so redolent and simple a thing as the common Onion was sometimes suspended in a room in the belief that it would draw all troublesome maladies out of the inmates. The first herbalists were priests, but gradually their art passed into the hands of professional outsiders, where it suffered greater and greater abuse.