Chapter III: Preface (2)

But this mental imbecility is not characteristic of any age or country. England has, indeed, by a late continental writer,[33] been accused of possessing a larger share of credulity than its neighbours, and it has been emphatically called “_The Paradise of Quacks_,” but with as little truth as candour. If we refer to the works of Ætius, written more than 1300 years ago, we shall discover the existence of a similar infirmity with regard to physic. This author has collected a multitude of receipts, particularly those that had been celebrated, or used as _Nostrums_,[34] many of which he mentions with no other view than to expose their folly, and to inform us at what an extravagant price they were purchased. We accordingly learn from him that the collyrium of Danaus was sold at Constantinople for 120 numismata, and the cholical antidote of Nicostratus for two talents; in short, we shall find an unbounded credulity with respect to the powers of inert medicines, from the elixir and _alkahest_ of Paracelsus and Van-Helmont, to the tar water of bishop Berkeley, the metallic tractors of Perkins, the animal magnetism of Miss Prescott, and may I not add, with equal justice, to the nitro-muriatic acid bath of Dr. Scott? The description of Thessalus, the Roman empiric in the reign of Nero, as drawn by Galen, applies with equal fidelity and force to the medical Charlatan of the present day; and, if we examine the writings of Scribonius Largus, we shall obtain ample evidence that the same ungenerous selfishness of keeping medicines secret, prevailed in ancient no less than in modern times; while we have only to read the sacred orations of Aristides to be satisfied, that the flagrant conduct of the Asclepiades, from which he so severely suffered,[35] was the very prototype of the cruel and remorseless frauds, so wickedly practised by the unprincipled Quack Doctors and advertising “_Medical Boards_,” of our own times: and I challenge the apologist of ancient purity to produce a more glaring instance of empirical effrontery and success, in the annals of the nineteenth century, than that of the sacred impostor described in the Alexander of Lucian, who established himself in the deserted temple of Esculapius, and entrapped in his snares some of the most eminent of the Roman senators.

SCEPTICISM.

Credulity has been justly defined, _Belief without Reason_. Scepticism is its opposite, _Reason without Belief_ and is the natural and invariable consequence of credulity: for it may be generally observed, that men who believe without reason, are succeeded by others whom no reasoning can convince; a fact which has occasioned many extraordinary and violent revolutions in the _Materia Medica_, and a knowledge of it will enable us to explain the otherwise unaccountable rise and fall of many useless, as well as important articles. It will also suggest to the reflecting practitioner, a caution of great moment, to avoid the dangerous fault imputed to Galen by Dioscorides, of ascribing too many and too great virtues to one and the same medicine. _By bestowing unworthy and extravagant praise upon a remedy, we in reality do but detract from its reputation,[36] and run the risk of banishing it from practice_; for when the sober practitioner discovers by experience that a medicine falls so far short of the efficacy ascribed to it, he abandons its use in disgust, and is even unwilling to concede to it that degree of merit to which in truth and justice it may be entitled; the inflated eulogiums bestowed upon the operation of _Digitalis_ in pulmonary diseases, excited, for a time, a very unfair impression against its use; and the injudicious manner in which the antisyphilitic powers of _Nitric Acid_ have been aggrandised, had very nearly exploded a valuable auxiliary from modern practice.

It is well known with what avidity the public embraced the expectations given by Stöerk of Vienna in 1760, with respect to the efficacy of _Hemlock_; every body, says Dr. Fothergill, made the extract, and every body prescribed it, but finding that it would not perform the wonders ascribed to it, and that a multitude of discordant diseases refused to yield, as it was asserted they would, to its narcotic powers, practitioners fell into the opposite extreme of absurdity, and declaring that it could do nothing at all, dismissed it at once as inert and useless. Can we not then predict the fate of the _Cubebs_, which has been lately restored to notice with such extravagant praise and unqualified approbation? May the sanguine advocates for the virtues of the Colchicum derive a useful lesson of practical caution from these precepts: it would be a matter of regret that a remedy which, under skilful management, certainly possesses considerable virtue, should again fall into obscurity and neglect from the disgust excited by the extravagant zeal of its supporters.

There are, moreover, those who cherish a spirit of scepticism, from an idea that it denotes the exercise of a superior intellect; it must be admitted, that at that period in the history of Europe, when reason first began to throw off the yoke of authority, it required superiority of understanding as well as intrepidity of conduct, to resist the powers of that superstition which had so long held it in captivity; but in the present age, observes Mr. Dugald Stewart, “_unlimited scepticism is as much the child of imbecility as implicit credulity_.” “He who at the end of the eighteenth century,” says Rousseau, “has brought himself to abandon all his early principles, without discrimination, would probably have been a bigot in the days of the league.”

FALSE THEORIES, AND ABSURD CONCEITS.

He who is governed by preconceived opinions, may be compared to a spectator who views the surrounding objects through coloured glasses, each assuming a tinge similar to that of the glass employed; thus have crowds of inert and insignificant drugs been indebted to an ephemeral popularity, from the prevalence of a false theory; the celebrated hypothesis of Galen respecting the virtues and operation of medicines, may serve as an example; it is a web of philosophical fiction, which was never surpassed in absurdity. He conceives that the properties of all medicines are derived from what he calls their elementary or _cardinal_ qualities, HEAT, COLD, MOISTURE, and DRYNESS. Each of these qualities is again sub-divided into four degrees, and a plant or medicine, according to his notion, is cold or hot, in the first, second, third, or fourth gradation; if the disease be hot, or cold in any of these four stages, a medicine possessed of a contrary quality, and in the same proportionate degree of elementary heat or cold, must be prescribed. Saltness, bitterness, and acridness depend, in his idea, upon the relative degrees of heat and dryness in different bodies. It will be easily seen how a belief in such an hypothesis must have multiplied the list of inert articles in the materia medica, and have corrupted the practice of physic. The variety of seeds derived its origin from this source, and until lately, medical writers, in the true jargon of Galen, spoke of the _four_ greater and lesser _hot_ and _cold_ seeds; and in the London Dispensatory of 1721, we find the powders of _hot_ and _cold_ precious stones, and those of the _hot_ and _cold_ compound powders of pearl. Several of the ancient combinations of opium, with various aromatics, are also indebted to Galen for their origin, and to the blind influence of his authority for their existence and lasting reputation. Galen asserted that opium was _cold in the fourth degree_, and must therefore require some corresponding hot medicine to moderate its frigidity.[37]

THE METHODIC SECT, which was founded by the Roman physician Themison,[38] a disciple of Asclepiades, as they conceived all diseases to depend upon _overbracing_, or on _relaxation_, so did they class all medicines under the head of _relaxing_ and _bracing_ remedies; and although this theory has been long since banished from the schools, yet it continues at this day to exert a secret influence on medical practice, and to preserve from neglect some unimportant medicines. The general belief in the relaxing effect of the _warm_, and the equally strengthening influence of the _cold_ bath, may be traced to conclusions deduced from the operations of hot and cold water upon parchment and other inert bodies.[39]

THE STAHLIANS, under the impression of their ideal system, introduced _Archœal_ remedies, and many of a superstitious and inert kind; whilst, as they on all occasions trusted to the constant attention and wisdom of nature, so did they zealously oppose the use of some of the most efficacious instruments of art, as the Peruvian _bark_; and few physicians were so reserved in the use of general remedies, as bleeding, vomiting, and the like; their practice was therefore imbecile, and it has been aptly enough denominated, “_a meditation upon death_.” They were however vigilant in observation and acute in discernment, and we are indebted to them for some faithful and minute descriptions.

THE MECHANICAL THEORY, which recognised “_lentor and morbid viscidity of the blood_,” as the principal cause of all diseases, introduced attenuant and diluent medicines, or substances endued with some mechanical force; thus Fourcroy explained the operation of mercury by its specific gravity,[40] and the advocates of this doctrine favoured the general introduction of the preparations of iron, especially in schirrus of the spleen or liver, upon the same hypothetical principle; for, say they, whatever is most forcible in removing the obstruction, must be the most proper instrument of cure; such is _Steel_, which, besides the attenuating power with which it is furnished, has still a greater force in this case from the _gravity_ of its particles, which, being seven times specifically heavier than any vegetable, acts in proportion with a stronger impulse, and therefore is a more powerful deobstruent. This may be taken as a specimen of the style in which these mechanical physicians reasoned and practised.

THE CHEMISTS, as they acknowledged no source of disease but the presence of some hostile acid or alkali, or some deranged condition in the chemical composition of the fluid or solid parts, so they conceived all remedies must act by producing chemical changes in the body. We find Tournefort busily engaged in testing every vegetable juice, in order to discover in it some traces of an acid or alkaline ingredient, which might confer upon it medicinal activity. The fatal errors into which such an hypothesis was liable to betray the practitioner, receive an awful illustration in the history of the memorable fever that raged at Leyden in the year 1699, and which consigned two thirds of the population of that city to an untimely grave; an event which, in a great measure, depended upon the Professor Sylvius de la Boe, who having just embraced the chemical doctrines of Van Helmont, assigned the origin of the distemper to a prevailing acid, and declared that its cure could alone be effected by the copious administration of absorbent and testaceous medicines; an extravagance into which Van Helmont, himself, would hardly have been betrayed:—but thus it is in Philosophy, as in Politics, that the partisans of a popular leader are always more sanguine, and less reasonable, than their master; they are not only ready to delude the world, but most anxious to deceive themselves, and while they warmly defend their favourite system from the attacks of those that may assail it, they willingly close their own eyes, and conceal from themselves the different points that are untenable; or, to borrow the figurative language of a French writer, they are like the pious children of Noah,[41] who went backwards, that they might not see the nakedness which they approached for the purpose of covering.

Unlike the mechanical physicians, the chemists explain the beneficial operation of iron by supposing that it increases the proportion of red globules in the blood, on the erroneous[42] hypothesis that iron constitutes the principal element of these bodies. Thus has iron, from its acknowledged powers, been enlisted into the service of every prevailing hypothesis; and it is not a little singular, as a late writer has justly observed, that theories however different, and even adverse, do nevertheless often coincide in matters of practice, as well with each other as with long established empirical usages, each bending as it were, and conforming, in order to do homage to truth and experience. And yet iron, whose medicinal virtues have been so generally allowed, has not escaped those vicissitudes in reputation which almost every valuable remedy has been doomed to suffer: at one period the ancients imagined that wounds inflicted by iron instruments, were never disposed to heal, for which reason Porsenna, after the expulsion of the Tarquins, actually stipulated with the Romans that they should not use iron, except in agriculture; and Avicenna was so alarmed at the idea of its internal use as a remedy, when given in substance, that he seriously advised the exhibition of a magnet[43] after it to prevent any direful consequences. The fame even of Peruvian bark has been occasionally obscured by the clouds of false theory some condemned its use altogether, “because it did not evacuate the morbific matter,” others, “because it bred obstructions in the viscera,” others again, “because it only bound up the spirits, and stopped the paroxysms for a time, and favoured the translation of the peccant matter into the more noble parts.” Thus we learn from Morton,[44] that Oliver Cromwell fell a victim to an intermittent fever, because the Physicians were too timid to make a trial of the bark. It was sold first by the Jesuits for its weight in silver;[45] and Condamine relates that in 1690, about thirty years afterwards, several thousand pounds of it lay at Piura and Payta for want of a purchaser.

Nor has Sugar escaped the venom of fanciful hypothesis. Dr. Willis raised a popular outcry against its domestic use, declaring that “it contained within its particles a secret acid—a dangerous sharpness,—which caused scurvys, consumptions, and other dreadful diseases.”[46]

Although I profess to offer merely a few illustrations of those doctrines, whose perverted applications have influenced the history of the Materia Medica, I cannot pass over in silence that of John Brown, “the child of genius and misfortune.” As he generalized diseases, and brought all within the compass of two grand classes, those of _increased_ and _diminished_ excitement, so did he abridge our remedies, maintaining, that every agent which could operate on the human body was a _Stimulant_, having an identity of action, and differing only in the degree of its force; so that, according to his views, the lancet and the brandy bottle were but the opposite extremes of one and the same class: the mischievous tendency of such a doctrine is too obvious to require a comment.

But the most absurd and preposterous hypothesis that has disgraced the annals of medicine, and bestowed medicinal reputation upon substances of no intrinsic worth, is that of the DOCTRINE OF SIGNATURES, as it has been called, which is no less than a belief that _every natural substance which possesses any medicinal virtue, indicates by an obvious and well-marked external character, the disease for which it is a remedy, or the object for which it should be employed_![47] This extraordinary monster of the fancy has been principally adopted and cherished by Paracelsus, Baptista Porta, and Crollius, although traces of its existence may be certainly discovered in very ancient authors. The root of the _Mandrake_, from its supposed resemblance to the human form, was esteemed as a remedy for Sterility: thus did Rachael demand from her sister the Mandrakes (_Dudaim_) which Reuben had gathered in the field; impressed, as it would appear, with a belief in the efficacy of that plant against barrenness.[48] There would moreover appear in this case to have been some idea of additional virtue arising from the person who gathered it, for great stress was laid upon this circumstance, “_my son’s_ Mandrakes:” such a notion is by no means uncommon in the history of charms. The supposed virtues of the _Lapis Ætites_, or _Eagle stone_,[49] described by Dioscorides, Ætius and Pliny, who assert that if tied to the arm it will prevent abortion, and if fixed to the thigh forward delivery, were, as we learn from ancient authority, solely suggested by the manner in which the nodule contained within the stone moves and rattles, whenever it is shaken. “_Ætites lapis agitatus, sonitum edit, velut ex altero lapide prægnans._” The conceit however did not assume the importance of a theory until the end of the fourteenth century, at which period we find several authors engaged in the support of its truth, and it will not be unamusing to offer a specimen of their sophistry; they affirm, that since man is the lord of the creation, all other creatures are designed for his use, and _therefore_, that their beneficial qualities and excellencies must be expressed by such characters as can be seen and understood by every one; and as man discovers his reason by speech, and brutes their sensations by various sounds, motions, and gestures, so the vast variety and diversity of figures, colours, and consistencies, observable in inanimate creatures, is certainly designed for some wise purpose. It _must be_, in order to manifest these peculiar qualities and excellencies, which could not be so effectually done in any other way, not even by speech, since no language is universal. Thus, the lungs of a fox must be a specific for asthma, _because_ that animal is remarkable for its strong powers of respiration. _Turmerick_ has a brilliant yellow colour, which indicates that it has the power of curing the jaundice; by the same rule, _Poppies_ must relieve diseases of the head; _Agaricus_ those of the bladder; _Cassia fistula_ the affections of the intestines, and _Aristolochia_ the disorders of the uterus: the polished surface and stony hardness which so eminently characterise the seeds of the _Lithospermum Officinale_ (Common Gromwell) were deemed a certain indication of their efficacy in calculous and gravelly disorders; for a similar reason the roots of the _Saxifraga Granulata_ (White Saxifrage) gained reputation in the cure of the same disease; and the _Euphrasia_ (Eye-bright) acquired fame, as an application in complaints of the eye, because it exhibits a black spot in its corolla resembling the pupil.

In the curious work of _Chrysostom Magnenus_, we meet with a whimsical account of the _Signature_ of Tobacco. “In the first place,” says he, “the manner in which the flowers adhere to the head of the plant indicates the _Infundibulum Cerebri_, and _Pituitary Gland_. In the next place, the three membranes of which its leaves are composed announce their value to the stomach which has three membranes.”[50]

The blood-stone, the _Heliotropium_ of the ancients, from the occasional small specks or points of a blood red colour exhibited on its green surface, is even at this day employed in many parts of England and Scotland, to stop a bleeding from the nose; and nettle-tea continues a popular remedy for the cure of _Urticaria_. It is also asserted that some substances bear the SIGNATURES of the humours, as the petals of the red rose that of the blood, and the roots of rhubarb and the flowers of saffron, that of the bile.[51]

I apprehend that John of Gaddesden, in the fourteenth century, celebrated by Chaucer, must have been directed by some remote analogy of this kind, when he ordered the son of Edward the First, who was dangerously ill with the small-pox, to be wrapped in scarlet cloth, as well as all those who attended upon him, or came into his presence, and even the bed and room in which he was laid were covered with the same drapery; and so completely did it answer, say the credulous historians of that day, that the Prince was cured without having so much as a single mark left upon him.

In enumerating the conceits of Physic, as relating to the Materia Medica, we must not pass over the idea, so prevalent at one period, that _all poisonous substances possess a powerful and mutual elective attraction for each other_; and that consequently, if a substance of this kind were suspended around the neck, it would, by intercepting and absorbing every noxious particle, preserve the body from the virulence of contagious matter. Angelus Sala, accordingly, gives us a formula for what he terms his _Magnes Arsenicalis_, which he asserts will not only defend the body from the influence of poison, but will, from its powers of attraction, draw out the venom from an infected person. In the celebrated plague of London, we are informed that amulets of arsenic were upon this principle suspended over the region of the heart, as a preservative against infection.

There is yet to be mentioned another absurd conceit which long existed respecting the subject of Antidotes,—a belief that every natural poison carried within itself its own antidote; thus we learn from the writings of Dioscorides, Galen, and Pliny, that the _virus_ of the _Cantharis Vesicatoria_ existed in the body of the fly, and that the head, feet, and wings, contained its antidote; for the same potent reason were the hairs of the rabid dog esteemed the true specific for Hydrophobia.[52]

DEVOTION TO AUTHORITY, AND ESTABLISHED ROUTINE.

This has always been the means of opposing the progress of reason—the advancement of natural truths—and the prosecution of new discoveries; whilst, with effects no less baneful, has it perpetuated many of the stupendous errors which have been already enumerated, as well as others no less weighty, and which are reserved for future discussion.

To give general currency to an hypothetical opinion, or medicinal reputation to an inert substance, requires only the talismanic aid of a few great names; when once established upon such a basis, ingenuity, argument, and even experiment, may open their ineffectual batteries. The laconic sentiment of the Roman Satirist is ever opposed to our remonstrance—“Marcus dixit?—ita est.”

“Did Marcus say ’twas fact? then fact it is,
No proof so valid as a word of his.”

A physician cannot err, in the opinion of the public, if he implicitly obeys the dogmas of authority; in the most barbarous ages of ancient Egypt, he was punished or rewarded according to the extent of his success, but to escape the former, it was only necessary to shew that an orthodox plan of cure had been followed, such as was prescribed in the acknowledged writings of Hermes. It is an instinct in our nature to follow the track pointed out by a few leaders; we are gregarious animals, in a moral as well as a physical sense, and we are addicted to routine, because it is always easier to follow the opinions of others than to reason and judge for ourselves. “The mass of mankind,” as Dr. Paley observes, “act more from habit than reflection.” What, but such a temper could have upheld the preposterous system of Galen for more than thirteen centuries; and have enabled it to give universal laws in medicine to Europe—Africa—and part of Asia?[53] What, but authority, could have inspired a general belief, that the sooty washings of rosin[54] would act as an universal remedy? What, but a blind devotion to authority, or an insuperable attachment to established custom and routine, could have so long preserved from oblivion the absurd medicines which abound in our earlier dispensatories? for example, the “_Decoctum ad Ictericos_,” of the Edinburgh College, which never had any other foundation than the doctrine of signatures, in favour of the _Curcuma_ and _Chelidonium Majus_;[55] and it is only within a few years, that the _Theriaca Andromachi_, in its ancient absurd form, has been dismissed from the British Pharmocopœia.[56] The CODEX-MEDICAMENTARIUS of Paris, recently edited, still cherishes this many-headed[57] monster of pharmacy, in all its pristine deformity, under the appropriate title of “_Electuarium Opiatum Polupharmacum_.”

It is, however, evidently indebted for this unexpected rescue from oblivion to a cause very remote from that which may be at first imagined; not from any belief in its powers or reliance upon its efficacy, but from a disinclination to oppose the torrent of popular prejudice, and to reject what has been established by authority and sanctioned by time. For the same reason, and in violation of their better judgment, the editors have retained the absurd formula of Diest for the preparation of an extract of opium; which, after directing various successive operations, concludes by ordering the decoction to be boiled incessantly for six months, supplying the waste of water at intervals! Many of the compound formulæ in this new CODEX, it is frankly allowed, possess an unnecessary and unmeaning, if not an injurious complexity; and yet, such force has habit, and so paramount are the _verba magistri_, that the editors are satisfied in distinguishing the more important ingredients by printing them in _Italics_, leaving the rest to be supplied at the whim and caprice of the dispenser, and thus are the grand objects and use of a national Pharmacopœia defeated, which should above all things insure uniformity in the strength and composition of its officinal preparations.

The same devotion to authority which induces us to retain an accustomed remedy for pertinacity, will always oppose the introduction of a novel practice with asperity, unless indeed it be supported by authority of still greater weight and consideration. The history of various articles of diet and medicine will prove in a striking manner, how greatly their reputation and fate have depended upon authority. It was not until many years after _Ipecacuan_ had been imported into Europe, that Helvetius, under the patronage of Louis XIV. succeeded in introducing it into practice: and to the eulogy of Katharine, queen of Charles II. we are indebted for the general introduction of Tea into England.[58]

That most extraordinary plant,[59] _Tobacco_, notwithstanding its powers of fascination, has suffered romantic vicissitudes in its fame and character; it has been successively opposed, and commended by physicians—condemned, and eulogised by priests and kings—and proscribed, and protected by governments; whilst at length this once insignificant production of a little island, or an obscure district, has succeeded in diffusing itself through every climate, and in subjecting the inhabitants of every country to its dominion. The Arab cultivates it in the burning desert—The Laplander and Esquimaux risk their lives to procure a refreshment so delicious in their wintry solitude—the Seaman, grant him but this luxury, and he will endure with cheerfulness every other privation, and defy the fury of the raging elements; and in the higher walks of civilized society, at the shrine of fashion, in the palace, and in the cottage, the fascinating influence of this singular plant commands an equal tribute of devotion and attachment. The history of the Potatoe is perhaps not less extraordinary, and is strikingly illustrative of the omnipotent influence of authority; the introduction of this valuable plant received, for more than two centuries, an unexampled opposition from vulgar prejudice, which all the philosophy of the age was unable to dissipate, until Louis the XVth wore a bunch of the flowers of the potatoe in the midst of his court, on a day of festivity; the people then for the first time obsequiously acknowledged its utility, and ventured to express their astonishment at the apathy which had so long prevailed with regard to its general cultivation; that which authority thus established, time and experience have fully ratified, and scientific research has extended the numerous resources which this plant is so wonderfully calculated to furnish; thus, its stalk, considered as a textile plant, produces in Austria a cottony flax—in Sweden, sugar is extracted from its root—by combustion its different parts yield a very considerable quantity of potass,—its apples, when ripe, ferment and yield vinegar by exposure, or spirit by distillation—its tubercles made into a pulp, are a substitute for soap in bleaching,—cooked by steam, the potatoe is the most wholesome and nutritious, and, at the same time, the most economical of all vegetable aliments.[60]—by different manipulations it furnishes two kinds of flour, a gruel, and a parenchyma, which in times of scarcity may be made into bread, or applied to increase the bulk of bread made from grain,—to the invalid it furnishes both aliment and medicine; its starch is not in the least inferior to the Indian arrow root, and Dr. Latham has lately shown that an extract may be prepared from its leaves and flowers, which possesses valuable properties as an anodyne remedy.[61]

The history of the warm bath[62] presents us with another curious instance of the vicissitudes to which the reputation of our valuable resources are so universally exposed; that which for so many ages was esteemed the greatest luxury in health,[63] and the most efficacious remedy in disease, fell into total disrepute in the reign of Augustus, for no other reason than because Antonius Musa had cured the Emperor of a dangerous malady by the use of the _cold_ bath. The most frigid water that could be procured was, in consequence, recommended on every occasion: thus Horace, in his epistle to Vala, exclaims—

“——Caput ac stomachum supponere fontibus audent.
Clusinis, gabiosque petunt, et frigida rura.”—_Epist._ xv. _Lib._ 1.

This practice, however, was doomed but to an ephemeral popularity, for although it had restored the Emperor to health, it shortly afterwards killed his nephew and son in law, Marcellus; an event which at once deprived the remedy of its credit, and the physician of his popularity.

The history of the Peruvian Bark would furnish a very curious illustration of the overbearing influence of authority in giving celebrity to a medicine, or in depriving it of that reputation to which its virtues entitle it. This heroic remedy was first brought to Spain in the year 1632, and we learn from Villerobel that it remained for seven years in that country before any trial was made of its powers, a certain ecclesiastic of Alcala being the first person in Spain to whom it was administered in the year 1639; but even at this period its use was limited, and it would have sunk into oblivion but for the supreme power of the Roman church, by whose auspices it was enabled to gain a temporary triumph over the passions and prejudices which opposed its introduction; Innocent the Tenth, at the intercession of Cardinal de Lugo, who was formerly a Spanish Jesuit, ordered that the nature and effects of it should be duly examined, and upon being reported as both innocent and salutary, it immediately rose into public notice;[64] its career, however, was suddenly stopped by its having unfortunately failed in the autumn of 1652 to cure Leopold, Archduke of Austria, of a Quartan Intermittent; this disappointment kindled the resentment of the prince’s principal physician, Chifletius, who published a violent philippic against the virtues of Peruvian Bark, which so fomented the prejudices against its use, that it had nearly fallen into total neglect and disrepute.

Thus there exists a fashion in medicine, as in the other affairs of life, regulated by the caprice and supported by the authority of a few leading practitioners, which has been frequently the occasion of dismissing from practice valuable medicines, and of substituting others less certain in their effects and more questionable in their nature. As years and fashions revolve, so have these neglected remedies, each in its turn, risen again into favour and notice, whilst old receipts, like old almanacks, are abandoned until the period may arrive, that will once more adapt them to the spirit and fashion of the times. Thus it happens that most of our “_New Discoveries_” in the Materia Medica have turned out to be no more than the revival and adaptation of ancient practices. In the last century, the root of the _Aspidium Filix_, the Male Fern, was retailed as a secret nostrum by Madame Nouffleur, a French empiric, for the cure of tape worm; the secret was purchased for a considerable sum of money by Louis XV. and the physicians then discovered that the same remedy had been administered in that complaint by Galen.[65]

The history of popular medicines for the cure of Gout, will also furnish us with ample matter for the illustration of this subject. The celebrated Duke of Portland’s Powder was no other than the _Diacentaureon_ of Cælius Aurelianus, or the _Antidotos ex duobus Centaureæ generibus_ of Ætius,[66] the receipt for which a friend of his Grace brought from Switzerland; into which country it had been probably introduced by the early medical writers, who had transcribed its virtues from the Greek volumes soon after their arrival into the western parts of Europe. The active ingredient of a no less celebrated remedy for the same disease, _the Eau Medicinale_,[67] has been discovered to be the _Colchicum Autumnale_ or Meadow Saffron; upon investigating the properties of this medicine, it was observed that similar effects in the cure of the gout were ascribed to a certain plant, called _Hermodactyllus_[68] by Oribasius and Ætius, but more particularly by Alexander of Tralles,[69] a physician of Asia Minor in the fourth century; an inquiry was accordingly instituted after this unknown plant, and upon procuring a specimen of it from Constantinople, it was actually found to be a species of _Colchicum_.

The use of Prussic acid in the cure of Phthisis, which has been lately proposed by Dr. Majendie, and introduced into the _Codex Medicamentarius_ of Paris, is little else than the revival of the Dutch practice in this complaint; for Linnæus informs us, in the fourth volume of his “_Amænitates Academicæ_,” that distilled Laurel water was frequently used in Holland for the cure of pulmonary consumption.

The celebrated fever powder of Dr. James was evidently not his original composition, but an Italian nostrum invented by a person of the name of Lisle, a receipt for the preparation of which is to be found at length in _Colborne’s Complete English Dispensatory for the year 1756_.

The various secret preparations of Opium, which have been extolled as the invention of modern times, may be recognized in the works of ancient authors; for instance, Wedelius in his _Opiologia_ describes an acetic solution; and the _Magisterium_ of Ludovicus, as noticed by Etmuller, was a preparation made by dissolving Opium in vinegar, and precipitating with Salt of Tartar;[70] Van Helmont recommends a preparation, similar to the black drop, under the title of _Laudanum Cydoniatum:_ then again we have Langelott’s Laudanum, and Le Mort’s “_Extract out of Rain water_,” preparations which owe their mildness to the abstraction of the resinous element of opium.

The works of Glauber contain accounts of many discoveries that have been claimed by the chemists of our own day; he recommends the use of muriatic acid in sea scurvy, and describes an apparatus for its preparation exactly similar to that which has been extolled as the invention of Wolff; he also notices the production of _Pyro-acetic Acid_, under the title of “_Vinegar of Wood_,” so that the fact of the identity of this acid and Vinegar, so lately announced by Vauquelin as a _New Discovery_, was evidently known to Glauber nearly two centuries ago.

We have within the last few years heard much of the efficacy of Henbane fumigations in the tooth-ache, an application which may be easily shewn to be the revival only of a very ancient practice.[71]

But while we might thus proceed to annul many other claims for originality, we ought not to close our eyes to the fallacies to which such investigations are peculiarly exposed. Nothing is more easy than to invest the doubtful sentence of an obscure author with an interpretation best adapted for the support of a favourite theory, and instances might be adduced where the medical antiquarian[72] has by violence and distortion forced the most contradictory passages into his service; treating, in short, the oracles of Physic just as Lord Peter treated his father’s will in the _Tale of a Tub_,—determined to discover the word “_Shoulder Knots_,” he picks it out, letter by letter, and is even at last obliged to substitute C for K in the orthography.

Nor has Fashion confined her baneful interference to the selection of remedies; she has ventured even to decide upon the nature of Diseases, and to change and modify their appellations according to the whim and caprice by which she is governed. The Princess, afterwards Queen Anne, was subject to Hypochondriacal attacks, which her Physicians pronounced to be _Spleen_, _Vapours_, or _Hyp_, and recommended Rawleigh’s Confection, and Pearl Cordial, for its cure: this circumstance was sufficient to render both the Disease and Remedy _fashionable_; no other complaint was ever heard of in the precincts of the court but that of the _Vapours_, nor any medicine esteemed but that of Rawleigh. Some years afterwards, in consequence of Dr. Whytt’s publication on “_Nervous diseases_,” a lady of Fashion was pronounced to be _Nervous_—the term became general, and the disease _fashionable_; and _Spleen_, _Vapours_, and _Hyp_ were consigned to oblivion: the reign of Nervous Diseases, however, did not long continue, for a popular work appeared on Biliary Concretions, and all the world became _bilious_. We have not patience to pursue the history of these follies; a transient glance at the ephemeral productions of the last twenty years would furnish a sad display of the versatility of medical opinions, and of the instability of the practice which has been founded upon them: and they will no doubt furnish the future historian with strong and forcible illustrations.

THE ASSIGNING TO ART THAT WHICH WAS THE EFFECT OF UNASSISTED NATURE, OR
THE CONSEQUENCE OF INCIDENTAL CHANGES OF HABIT, DIET, &c.

Our inability upon all occasions to appreciate the efforts of nature in the cure of disease, must always render our notions, with respect to the powers of art, liable to numerous errors and multiplied deceptions. Nothing is more natural, and at the same time more erroneous, than to attribute the cure of a disease to the last medicine that had been employed; the advocates of amulets and charms[73] have even been thus enabled to appeal to the testimony of what they call experience, in justification of their superstitions; and cases which, in truth and justice, ought to be considered most lucky escapes, have been triumphantly pronounced as skilful cures; and thus have medicines and practitioners alike acquired unmerited praise, or unjust censure. Upon Mrs. Stephens offering her remedy for the stone to Parliament,[74] a committee of professional men was nominated to ascertain its efficacy; a patient with stone was selected, and he took the remedy; his sufferings were soon relieved, and upon examining the bladder in the usual way, no stone could be felt, it was therefore agreed that the patient had been cured, and that the stone had been dissolved; some time afterwards this patient died, and on being opened, a large stone was found in a pouch, formed by a part of the bladder, and which communicated with it. When the yellow fever raged in America, the practitioners trusted exclusively to the copious use of mercury; at first, this plan was deemed so universally efficacious, that in the enthusiasm of the moment, it was triumphantly proclaimed that death never took place after the mercury had evinced its effect upon the system: all this was very true, but it furnished no proof of the efficacy of that metal, since the disease, in its aggravated form, was so rapid in its career, that it swept away its victims long before the system could be brought under mercurial influence, while in its milder shape it passed off equally well without any assistance from art.

Let us then, before we decree the honours of a cure to a favourite medicine, carefully and candidly ascertain the exact circumstances under which it was exhibited, or we shall rapidly accumulate examples of the fallacies to which our art is exposed; what has been more common than to attribute to the efficacy of a mineral water, those fortunate changes of constitution that have entirely or in great measure, arisen from salubrity of situation, hilarity of mind, exercise of body, and regularity of habits, which have incidentally accompanied its potation. Thus, the celebrated John Wesley, while he commemorates the triumph of ‘Sulphur and Supplication’ over his bodily infirmity, forgets to appreciate the resuscitating influence of four months repose from his apostolic labours; and such is the disposition of the human mind to place confidence in the operation of mysterious agents, that we find him more disposed to attribute his cure to a brown paper plaister of egg and brimstone, than to Dr. Fothergill’s salutary prescription of country air, rest, asses milk, and horse exercise.[75] The ancient physicians duly appreciated the influence of such agents; their temples, like our watering places, were the resort of those whom medicine could not cure, and we are expressly told by Plutarch that these temples, especially that of Esculapius, were erected on elevated spots, with the most congenial aspects; a circumstance which, when aided by the invigorating effects of hope, by the diversions which the patient experienced in his journey, and perhaps by the exercise to which he had been unaccustomed, certainly performed many cures. It follows then that in the recommendation of a _watering place_, something more than the composition of a mineral spring is to direct our choice,—the chemist will tell us, that the springs of Hampstead and Islington rival those of Tunbridge and Malvern, that the waters of Bagnigge Wells, as a chalybeate purgative, might supersede those of Cheltenham and Scarborough, and that an invalid would frequent the spring in the vicinity of the Dog and Duck, in St. George’s Fields, with as much advantage as the celebrated Spa at Leamington; but the physician is well aware that by the adoption of such advice, he would deprive his patient of those most powerful auxiliaries to which I have alluded, and above all, lose the advantages of the “_Medicina Mentis_.” On the other hand, the recommendation of change of air and habits will rarely inspire confidence, unless it be associated with some medicinal treatment; a truth which it is more easy and satisfactory to elucidate and enforce by examples than by precept—let the following story by Voltaire serve as an illustration.—“Ogul, a voluptuary who could be managed but with difficulty by his physician, on finding himself extremely ill from indolence and intemperance, requested advice:—‘Eat a Basilisk, stewed in rose-water,’ replied the physician. In vain did the slaves search for a _Basilisk_, until they met with Zadig, who, approaching Ogul, exclaimed, ‘Behold that which thou desirest;’ ‘but, my Lord,’ continued he, ‘it is not to be eaten; all its virtues must enter through thy pores, I have therefore enclosed it in a little ball, blown up, and covered with a fine skin; thou must strike this ball with all thy might, and I must strike it back again, for a considerable time, and by observing this regimen, and taking no other drink than rose-water for a few days, thou wilt see, and acknowledge the effect of my art.’ The first day Ogul was out of breath, and thought he should have died from fatigue; the second he was less fatigued, and slept better: in eight days he recovered all his strength; Zadig then said to him, ‘There is no such thing in nature as a Basilisk! but _thou hast taken exercise and been temperate, and hast therefore recovered thy health_!’ But the medical practitioner may perhaps receive more satisfaction from a modern illustration; if so, the following anecdote, related by Sydenham, may not be unacceptable. This great physician having long attended a gentleman of fortune with little or no advantage, frankly avowed his inability to render him any farther service, adding at the same time, that there was a physician of the name of Robinson, at Inverness, who had distinguished himself by the performance of many remarkable cures of the same complaint as that under which his patient laboured, and expressing a conviction that, if he applied to him, he would come back cured. This was too encouraging a proposal to be rejected; the gentleman received from Sydenham a statement of his case, with the necessary letter of introduction, and proceeded without delay to the place in question. On arriving at Inverness, and anxiously enquiring for the residence of Dr. Robinson, he found to his utter dismay and disappointment, that there was no physician of that name, nor ever had been in the memory of any person there. The gentleman returned, vowing eternal hostility to the peace of Sydenham; and on his arrival at home, instantly expressed his indignation at having been sent on a journey of so many hundred miles for no purpose. “Well,” replies Sydenham, “are you better in health?”—“Yes, I am now quite well, but no thanks to you,”—“No,” says Sydenham, “but you may thank Dr. Robinson for curing you. I wished to send you a journey with some object of interest in view; I knew it would be of service to you; in going you had Dr. Robinson and his wonderful cures in contemplation; and in returning, you were equally engaged in thinking of scolding me.”

AMBIGUITY OF NOMENCLATURE.

It has been already stated that we are to a great degree ignorant of the Simples used by the ancient Physicians; we are often quite unable to determine what the plants are of which Dioscorides treats. It does not appear that out of the 700 plants of which his Materia Medica consists, that more than 400 are correctly ascertained; and yet no labour has been spared to clear the subject of its difficulties; Cullen even laments that so much pains should have been bestowed upon so barren an occasion.[76] The early history of botany presents us with such a chaos of nomenclature, that it must have been impossible for the herbarist and physician to have communicated their mutual lights; every one was occupied with disputes upon words and names, and every useful inquiry was suspended, from an inability to decide what plant each author intended; thus, for instance, the _Herba Britannica_ of Dioscorides and Pliny, so celebrated for the cure of the soldiers of Julius Cæsar on the Rhine, of a disease called ‘_Scelotyrbe_’, and supposed to resemble our sea scurvy, remains quite unknown, notwithstanding the labours of our most intelligent commentators.[77] It seems also very doubtful whether the plant which we denominate _Hemlock_ was the poison usually administered at the Athenian executions,[78] and which deprived Socrates and Phocion of life. Pliny informs us that the word _Cicuta_, amongst the ancients, was not indicative of any particular species of plant, but of vegetable poisons in general; this is a circumstance to which I am particularly anxious to fix your attention; it is by no means uncommon to find a word which is used to express general characters, subsequently become the name of a specific substance in which such characters are predominant; and we shall find that some important anomalies in nomenclature may be thus explained. The term ‘Αρσενικον,’ from which the word _Arsenic_ is derived, was an ancient epithet, applied to those natural substances which possessed strong and acrimonious properties, and as the poisonous quality of arsenic was found to be remarkably powerful, the term was especially applied to Orpiment, the form in which this metal more usually occurred. So the term _Verbena_ (quasi _Hebena_) originally denoted _all those_ herbs that were held sacred on account of their being employed in the rites of sacrifice, as we learn from the poets;[79] but as _one_ herb was usually adopted upon these occasions, the word _Verbena_ came to denote that particular herb _only_, and it is transmitted to us to this day under the same title, viz. _Verbena_, or _Vervain_, and indeed until lately it enjoyed the medical reputation which its sacred origin conferred upon it, for it was worn suspended around the neck as an amulet. _Vitriol_, in the original application of the word, denoted _any_ crystalline body with a certain degree of transparency (_Vitrum_); it is hardly necessary to observe that the term is now appropriated to a particular species: in the same manner, _Bark_, which is a general term, is applied to express _one_ genus, and by way of eminence, it has the article, _The_, prefixed, as _The_ Bark: the same observation will apply to the word _Opium_, which in its primitive sense signifies _any_ juice (οπος _Succus_) while it now only denotes _one_ species, viz. that of the Poppy. So again, _Elaterium_ was used by Hippocrates, to signify various internal applications, especially purgatives of a violent and drastic nature (from the word ‘Ελαυνω,’ _agito_, _moveo_, _stimulo_), but by succeeding authors it was _exclusively_ applied to denote the active matter which subsides from the juice of the _wild cucumber_. The word _Fecula_, again, originally meant to imply _any_ substance which was derived by spontaneous subsidence from a liquid, (from _fæx_, the grounds or settlement of _any_ liquor); afterwards it was applied to _Starch_, which is deposited in this manner by agitating the flour of wheat in water; and lastly, it has been applied to a peculiar vegetable principle, which like _starch_[80] is insoluble in cold, but completely soluble in boiling water, with which it forms a gelatinous solution; this indefinite meaning of the word _fecula_ has created numerous mistakes in pharmaceutic chemistry; Elaterium, for instance, is said to be a _fecula_, and in the original sense of the word it is properly so called, inasmuch as it is procured from a vegetable juice by spontaneous subsidence, but in the limited and modern acceptation of the term, it conveys an erroneous idea; for instead of the active principle of the juice residing in _fecula_, it is a peculiar proximate principle, _sui generis_, to which I have ventured to bestow the name of _Elatin_. For the same reason, much doubt and obscurity involve the meaning of the word _Extract_, because it is applied _generally_ to any substance obtained by the evaporation of a vegetable solution, and _specifically_ to a peculiar proximate principle, possessed of certain characters, by which it is distinguished from every other elementary body—See _Extracta_. On the other hand, we find that many words which were originally only used to denote particular substances, have, at length, become subservient to the expression of General Characters; thus the term _Alkali_, in its originally sense, signified that particular residuum which was alone obtained by lixiviating the ashes of the plant named _Kali_, but the word is now so generalized that it denotes _any_ body possessed of a certain number of definite properties.

Another source of botanical ambiguity and error is the circumstance of certain plants having acquired the names of others very different in their nature, but which were supposed to possess a similarity in external character; thus our POTATOE,[81] (_Solanum Tuberosum_) when it was first imported into England by the colonists in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, gained its appellation from its supposed resemblance to an esculent vegetable at that time in common use, under the name of the Sweet Potatoe (_Convolvulus Battatas_,) and which, like _Eringo Root_, had the reputation of being able to restore decayed vigour, thus Falstaff—

“Let the sky rain Potatoes, hail kissing Comfits, and snow Eringoes.”
_Merry Wives of Windsor, Act 5,
Scene 5._

A similar instance is presented to us in the culinary vegetable well known under the name of the JERUSALEM ARTICHOKE, which derived its appellation in consequence of its flavour having been considered like that of the common artichoke; it is hardly necessary to observe that it has no botanic relation whatever to such a plant, it being an Heliotrope (_Heliotropium Tuberosum_), the epithet _Jerusalem_ is a curious corruption of the Italian term _Gira-Sole_, that is, _turn-sun_, in English, or _Heliotrope_ in Greek. This instance of verbal corruption is not solitary in medical botany; CASTOR OIL will suggest itself as another example; this oil, from its supposed efficacy in curing and assuaging the unnatural heat of the body, and in soothing the passions, was called by the French _Agnus Castus_, whence the inhabitants of St. Kitt’s in the West Indies, who were formerly blended with the French in that Island, called it _Castor_ oil. In some cases again, a plant has received a modern name, compounded of two ancient ones; it appears from Pliny that the _Assarum_ was not uncommonly confounded with the _Baccharis_; an English name was accordingly bestowed upon it, which is a curious compromise of the question, for it is a compound of both, viz. _Assara-bacca_.

In some instances the most alarming mistakes have occurred from substances of a very different nature having been mentioned under similar names, _Arsenic_ for instance, has actually been inhaled,[82] together with the vapours of Frankincense, Myrrh, and those of other gums, during a paroxysm of Asthma! a practice which arose from the practitioner having confounded the Gum Juniper, or _Vernix_ of the Arabians, which was prescribed for fumigations under the name of _Sandarach_, with the Σανδαρακη of Aristotle, and which was a sulpheret of Arsenic. The gum which we know at the present day under the name of _Sanguis Draconis_, or _Dragon’s blood_, was called by the ancient Greeks Κινναβαρὶ, a term which has been incorrectly transferred to a Sulphuret of Mercury, for no other reason than because this mineral has the same red colour as the gum.