NOT even are the forests and the spots in which the aspect of Nature is most rugged, destitute of their peculiar remedies; for so universally has that divine parent of all things distributed her succours for the benefit of man, as to implant for hint medicinal virtues in the trees of the desert even, while at every step she presents us with most wonderful illustrations of those antipathies and sympathies which exist in the vegetable world.
Between the quercus[1] and the olive[2] there exists a hatred
so inveterate, that transplanted, either of them, to a site previously occupied by the other, they will die.[3] The quercus
too, if planted near the walnut, will perish. There is a mortal
feud[4] existing also between the cabbage and the vine; and the
cabbage itself, so shunned as it is by the vine, will wither immediately if planted in the vicinity of cyclamen[5] or of origanum.
We find it asserted even, that aged trees fit to be felled, are
cut with all the greater difficulty, and dry all the more rapidly,
Inanimate objects again, even of the most insignificant character, have their own peculiar antipathies. Cooks disengage meat of the brine, when it has been too highly salted, by the agency of fine meal and the inner bark[8] of the lindentree. Salt again, tends to neutralize the sickly flavour of food when over-sweet. The taste of water, when nitrous or bitter, is modified by the addition of polenta,[9] so much so indeed, as to be rendered potable[10] in a couple of hours: it is for a similar reason, too, that a layer of polenta is put[11] in our linen winestrainers. A similar property is possessed also by the chalk[12] of Rhodes, and the argilla of our own country.
Equal affinities exist as well; pitch, for instance, is extracted
by the agency of oil, both of them being of an unctuous nature
oil again, will incorporate only with lime, both of them having
a natural antipathy[13] to water. Gum is most[14] easily removed
with vinegar, and ink[15] with water; in addition to which, there
It is in tendencies of this description that the medical art first took its rise; though it was originally intended, no doubt, by Nature, that our only medicaments should be those which universally exist, are everywhere to be found, and are to he procured at no great outlay, the various substances, in fact, from which we derive our sustenance. But at a later period the fraudulent disposition of mankind, combined with an ingenuity prompted by lucre, invented those various laboratories,[16] in which each one of us is promised an extension of his life—that is, if he will pay for it. Compositions and mixtures of an in- explicable nature forthwith have their praises sung, and the productions of Arabia and India are held in unbounded ad- miration in the very midst[17] of us. For some trifling sore or other, a medicament is prescribed from the shores of the Red Sea; while not a day passes but what the real remedies are to be found upon the tables of the very poorest man among us.[18] But if the remedies for diseases were derived from our own gardens, if the plants or shrubs were employed which grow there, there would be no art, forsooth, that would rank lower than that of medicine.
Yes, avow it we must-the Roman people, in extending its empire, has lost sight of its ancient manners, and in that we have conquered we are the conquered:[19] for now we obey the natives of foreign[20] lands, who by the agency of a single art have even out-generalled our generals.[21] More, however, on this topic hereafter.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.