Devotion to authority and established routine 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 currency to some inactive substance as possessing extraordinary, nay wonderful medicinal properties, requires only the sanction of a few great names; and when established upon such a basis, ingenuity, argument, and even experiment, may open their impotent batteries. In this manner have all the nostra and patent medicines got into repute that ever were held in any estimation. And the same devotion to authority which induces us to retain an accustomed remedy upon the bare assertion and presumption either of ignorance or partiality, will, in like manner, oppose the introduction of a novel practice with asperity, unless indeed it be supported by authorities of still greater weight and consideration.
The history of various articles of diet and medicine, will amply prove how much their reputation and fate have depended upon authority. For instance, it was not until many years after ipecacuanha had been imported into England, that Helvetius, under the patronage of Louis XIV. succeeded in introducing it into practice: and to the praise of Katherine, queen of Charles II. we are indebted for the general introduction of tea into England. Tobacco, notwithstanding its fascinating powers, has suffered romantic vicissitudes in its fame and character; it has been successively opposed and commended by physicians, condemned and eulogized by priests and kings[18], 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 walk 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. Nor is the history of the potatoe less extraordinary or less strikingly illustrative of the imperious influence of authority. In fact, the introduction of this valuable plant received, for more than two centuries, an unprecedented opposition from vulgar prejudice, which all the philosophy of the age was unable to dissipate, until Louis XV. wore a bunch of the flowers of the potatoe in the midst of his court, on a day of mirth and festivity. The people then, for the first time, obsequiously acknowledged its utility, and began to express their astonishment at the apathy which had so long prevailed with regard to its general cultivation.
The history of the warm bath furnishes us with another curious instance of the vicissitudes to which the reputation of our valuable resources are so uniformly exposed. That, in short, which for so many ages was esteemed the greatest luxury in health, 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 coldest water, therefore, was recommended on every occasion. This practice, however, was but of short duration. The popularity of the warm bath soon lost all its premature and precocious popularity; for, though 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.[19]
An 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, might be furnished in the history of the Peruvian bark. This heroic remedy was first brought to Spain in the year 1632, where it remained seven years before any trial was made of its powers. An ecclesiastic of Alcala was the first 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 protecting 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 its nature and effects should be duly examined, and on its being reported both innocent and salutary, it immediately rose into public notice. Its career, however, was suddenly arrested by its having unfortunately failed in the autumn 1652 to cure Leopold, Archduke of Austria, of a quartan intermittent: from this circumstance it had nearly fallen into disrepute.
As years and fashion 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 the new discoveries in medicine have turned out to be no more than the revival and readoption of ancient practices.
During the last century, the root of the male fern was retailed as a secret nostrum, by Madame Nouffleur, a French empiric, for the cure of the tapeworm: the secret was purchased for a considerable sum of money by Lewis XV. The physicians then discovered, that the same remedy had been administered in that complaint by Galen.
The history of popular remedies for the cure of gout, also furnishes ample matter for the elucidation of this subject.
The celebrated powder of the Duke of Portland, was no other than the diacentaureon of Cœlius Aurelianus, or the antidotos ex duobus centaureæ generibus of Ætius, the receipt for which a friend of his Grace brought with him from Switzerland; into which country, in all probability, it had been introduced by the early medical writers, who had transcribed it 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 médicinale, a medicine brought into fashion by M. Husson, whose name it bears, a military officer in the service of the King of France, about fifty years ago, has been discovered to be the colchicum autumnale, or meadow saffron. Upon investigating the virtues of this medicine, it was observed that similar effects in the cure of the gout were ascribed to a certain plant, called Hermodactyllus, by Oribasius[20] and Ætius[21], but more particularly by Alexander of Tralles, a physician of Asia Minor, whose prescription consisted of hermodactyllus, ginger, pepper, cummin-seed, aniseed, and scammony, which, he says, will enable those who take it, to walk immediately. An inquiry was immediately 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 consumptions, lately proposed by Dr. Majendie, a French physiologist, is little else than the revival of the Dutch practice in this complaint; for we are informed by Lumæus, in the fourth volume of his “Amenitates Acadamicæ,” that distilled laurel water was frequently used in Holland in the cure of pulmonary consumption. The celebrated Dr. James’s fever powder 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 Dispensary for the year 1756. The various secret preparations of opium which have been lauded as the discovery of modern times, may be recognised in the works of ancient authors.