CHAPTER XVI. 



iJuneraP Wreej ar^ QPant/. 



HE association of certain trees and plants with 

 death and its gloomy surroundings dates from 

 a period remote and shadowy in its antiquity. 

 Allusions to it are found in the most ancient 

 writings and records, and through one of these 

 (the Sanscrit Mahdbhdmta) we learn that Pita 

 Maha, the great Creator, after having created the 

 world, reposed under the tree Salmali, the leaves 

 of which the winds cannot stir. One of the Sanscrit names applied 

 to this tree is Kantakadruma, Tree of Thorns; and on account of the 

 great size and strength of its spines, it is stated to have been 

 placed as a tree of punishment in the infernal regions, and to 

 have been known as the Tree of Yama (the Hindu god of death). 

 Yama is also spoken of as the dispenser of the ambrosia of immor- 

 tality, which flows from the fruit of the celestial tree in Paradise 

 (Ficus Indica), and which is known in India as the tree dear to Yama. 

 As king of the spirits of the departed, Yama dwells near the tree. 

 Hel, the Scandinavian goddess of death, has her abode among the 

 roots of Yggdrasill, by the side of one of the fountains. Mimir, who, 

 according to Scandinavian mythology, gives his name to the foun- 

 tain of life, is also a king of the dead. The ancients entertained the 

 belief that, on the road traversed by the souls of the departed, 

 there grew a certain tree, the fruit of which was the symbol of 

 eternal life. In the Elysian Fields, where dwelt the spirits of the 

 virtuous in the gloomy regions reigned over by Pluto, whole plains 

 were covered with Asphodel, flowers which were placed by the 

 Greeks and Romans on the graves of the departed as symbolic of 

 the future life. In France, at the beginning of the Christian era, 

 the faithful, with some mystical idea, were wont to scatter on the 

 bottom of coffins, beneath the corpses, seeds of various plants — 

 probably to typify life from the dead. 



The belief in a future existence doubtless led to the custom 

 of planting trees on tombs, especially the Cypress, which was 

 regarded as typical both of life and death. The tree growing over 

 the grave, one can easily imagine, was looked upon by the ancient 

 races as an emblem of the soul of the departed become immortal. 

 Evelyn remarks, on this point, that trees and perennial plants 

 are the most natural and instrucftive hieroglyphics of our expecfted 

 resurretftion and immortality, and that they conduce to the medi- 



