(From the British Museum.)
The Bishop’s theory was an attractive one. The pine trees he argued, had accumulated from the sunlight and the air a large proportion of the vital element of the universe, and condensed it in the tar which they yielded. The vital element could be drawn off by water and conveyed to the human organism.
It is not necessary here to follow out his chain of reasoning from the vital element in tar up to the Supreme Mind from which that vital principle emanated. On the way the author quoted freely and effectively from Plato and Pythagoras, from Theophrastus and Pliny, from Boerhaave and Boyle, and from many other authorities. He showed how the balsams and resins of the ancient world were of the same nature as tar. Van Helmont said, “Whoever can make myrrh soluble by the human body has the secret of prolonging his days,” and Boerhaave had recognised that there was truth in this remark on account of the anti-putrefactive power of the myrrh. This was the power which tar possessed in so large a degree. Homberg had made gold by introducing the vital element in the form of light into the pores of mercury. The process was too expensive to make the production of gold by this means profitable, but the fact showed an analogy with the concentration of the same element in the tar.
Berkeley’s process for making the tar water was simply to pour 1 gallon of cold water on a quart of tar; stir it with a wooden ladle for five or six minutes, and then set the vessel aside for three days and nights to let the tar subside. The water was then to be drawn off and kept in well-stoppered bottles. Ordinarily half a pint might be taken fasting morning and night, but to cure disease much larger doses might be given. It had proved of extraordinary value not only in small-pox, but also in eruptions and ulcers, ulceration of the bowels and of the lungs, consumptive cough, pleurisy, dropsy, and gravel. It greatly aided digestion, and consequently prevented gout. It was a remedy in all inflammatory disorders and fevers. It was a cordial which cheered, warmed, and comforted, with no injurious effects.
The nation went wild over this discovery. “The Bishop of Cloyne has made tar water as fashionable as Vauxhall or Ranelagh,” wrote Duncombe.
The Bishop’s book was translated into most of the European languages, and tar water attained some degree of popularity on the Continent. It owed no little of its success in this country to the opposition it met with from medical writers. The public at once concluded that they were very anxious about their “kitchen prospects,” to use the symbolism of Paracelsus. Every attack on tar water called forth several replies. Berkeley himself responded to some of the criticisms by very poor verses, which he got a friend to send to the journals with strict injunctions to keep his name secret.
Paris in “Pharmacologia” refers to the tar water mania, asking “What but the spell of authority could have inspired a general belief that the sooty washings of rosin would act as a universal remedy?” It need hardly be pointed out that the general belief was rather a revolt against authority than an acceptance of it.
Dr. Young, the author of “Night Thoughts,” wrote: “They who have experienced the wonderful effects of tar water reveal its excellences to others. I say reveal, because they are beyond what any can conceive by reason or natural light. But others disbelieve them though the revelation is attested past all scruple, because to them such excellences are incomprehensible. Now give me leave to say that this infidelity may possibly be as fatal to morbid bodies as other infidelity is to morbid souls. I say this in honest zeal for your welfare. I am confident if you persist you’ll be greatly benefited by it. In old obstinate, chronical complaints, it probably will not show its virtue under three months; though secretly it is doing good all the time.”
Kings Buy Secret Remedies.
In past times it was not unusual for monarchs to purchase from the inventors of panaceas the secrets of their composition for publication for the benefit of their subjects. Several instances are mentioned in other chapters of this book. Among these may be noted Goddard’s Drops, bought by Charles II., Glauber’s Kermes Mineral or Poudre des Chartres, Talbor’s Tincture of Bark, and Helvetius’s Ipecacuanha, the secrets of which were obtained by Louis XIV for fancy prices. In Louis XIV’s reign the French Government purchased from the Prieur de Cabrier an arcanum to cure rupture without bandages or operations. The recipe, which was made public, was that a few drops of spirit of salt were to be taken in red wine frequently during the day. Mr. Stephens’s Cure for the Stone was transferred to the public by a payment authorised by Act of Parliament.