Chenopodium occasionally finds a footing here, too, although it prefers rich garden corners or near the barns where the soil is richer. It is just coming into bloom now, the bloom looking rather like greyish fungus stalagmites. It is curious how erect these July weeds are; single erect stems, perhaps branching toward the top, but spending their energies in perfecting their blooms and perpetuating their racial characteristics rather than wasting effort on beautifying the neighborhoods where they make their homes. The old, old strife for survival–how clearly it is pictured here!.
One might go on to great lengths speaking of a July road- side: the Lactuca just opening its small blossoms from six to ten feet aloft; Solidago, seemingly every member of the family to be found in New England, is getting ready to spread its yellow banner over the countryside; those troublesome fellows, Ambrosia artemisia folia, and Ambrosia trifida, who have the gift of inciting to distress uncounted sufferers of “ragweed fever,” are thrusting their buds upward; here and there an Asclepias syriaca (cornuti) hangs its numerous small blossoms in the heat.
Each one of these plants is an individual, with its own personality, from the proudest flower head to the lowliest ragamuffin of the kingdom, and aristocrat or vulgarian, each has a mighty task to perform for the healing art. Not all have been proven; there are still untouched fields of endeavor for the explorer in potentials. Not all that have been proven have their complete potentialities revealed.
If one knew these personalities thoroughly, might it not be that we would forget their commonness, their vulgarity, and remember them for their healing qualities, the peaceful sleep, the stanching of wounds, the relaxation of tension, and all the many virtues that the homoeopathic prescriber masters as he masters the knowledge of the art? Humble helpers these, perhaps; but invaluable nevertheless, and not to be overlooked.
It leads one to wonder if each countryside does not provide medicaments sufficient for the ills of the people around, if but enough were known of their possibilities. We know that Arnica grows on break neck mountain sides; Hypericum, too, thrives on rocky slopes as well as level ground. Eupatorium perfoliatum finds its best habitat low swampy ground, and its brother, the purpureum, also borders swampy meadows.
As we know, the character of the soil has much to do with the characteristics of the plants as brought out in the provings. Through the symptoms we find the relationship of the plant to the metals, and the character of the soil undoubtedly is the selective agency in the adaptation of the plant to new territory, or even in spreading in its own neighborhood. We know that the soil will vary greatly in elements within a few feet. Two driven wells in western Massachusetts were splendid illustrations of this.
These wells were within twenty-five feet of each other, yet one well was rich in iron so that it would rust clothes, washed in the water, while the other well was so rich in lime that it formed thick crusts on all vessels in which water was boiled. In the plant kingdom we find that Equisetum is almost pure silica; and that Pulsatilla is so closely related to Kali sulph. because Pulsatilla grows only on soil that is permeated with this salt combination. Digitalis grows only on gravely soil; and one might mention numerous instances among our remedial plants.
One wonders whence came the incentive to prove these plants, and one marvels at the patience and persistence that continued the provings against what often became great distress of body and mind, that little by little knowledge might be added to the materia medica. Like the Tale Without an End, “the ant went in and brought out one grain of wheat; and another ant went in and brought out another grain of wheat; and another . . . and another for many, many years; and who can tell how far it is from completion?
DERBY, CONN.
