St. John’s Wort. 
(SUPERSTITION.) 
“ I must gather the mystic St. John’s wort to-night. 
The wonderful herb whose leaf will decide 
If the coming year shall make me a bride.” 
From the German. 
T HIS bright yellow blossom, with its glittering golden 
stamens, is very well known by its generic name of Hype¬ 
ricum, but as the floral symbol of superstition , its old English 
appellation of St. Johns wort seems most appropriate. In the 
earliest records of the wonderful properties assigned to this 
world-renowned emblem, it is styled fuga dcemonum, or devil's 
flight, because the virtue was ascribed to it of frightening away 
“auld Hornie,” and all his mischievous crew, of defending 
folks from spectres, and of generally putting all evil-disposed 
apparitions to the rout. “ For the same reason,” says one 
florigraphical authority, “ it was also called sol terristris, or the 
‘ terrestrial sun,’ because the spirits of darkness were believed 
to vanish at the approach of that luminary.” To the peasantry 
of France, and of the less educated countries of Germany, this 
flower is still endowed with marvellous qualities.* and on the 
nativity of St. John the Baptist—that is to say, on the 24th of 
June—it is customary for the villagers to gather and hang over 
the cottage doors and windows some of these blossoms, in the 
belief that its sanctity will deter malevolent spirits from en¬ 
tering the abode, and will also propitiate their patron saint in 
favour of the inmates. 
In Scotland this plant is still carried about as a charm 
against witchcraft and enchantment; and in some out-of-the- 
way parts the people fancy that it cures ropy milk, which, 
they suppose, is under some malignant influence. Sir Walter 
Scott’s ballad, “ The Eve of Saint John,” is a good illustration 
