Its effects would last all through one day. No matter what horrors surrounded,
From morn to eve, impassive and serene
The man entranced would view the dreadful scene.
Much discussion of Homer’s drug has of course resulted from his description of these effects. Was it a mere poetic fancy of Homer’s and was the name his invention, or was there an Egyptian drug known in his time to which the properties he describes were attributed? Plutarch, Philostratus, and some other ancient commentators suppose that the poet is only representing in a materialistic form the charm of Helen’s conversation and manner. The difficulty about that interpretation is that he explicitly states that the remedy came from Egypt. Theophrastus credits the opopanax with similar properties to those which Homer claims, and Dioscorides is believed to allude to the same gum under the name of Nectarion, which he indicates to have been of Egyptian origin. This has been adopted by some old critics as the true nepenthes. Pliny asserts that Helenium was the plant which yielded the mirth-inspiring drug, but it is not clear that he means our elecampane. Borage and bugloss have also had their advocates, Galen supporting the latter. Rhazes voted for saffron. Cleopatra is assumed to have meant mandragora when she asked for some nepenthe to make her forget her sorrow while she was separated from Antony. Opium has of course been selected by many commentators, but it could hardly have furnished a mirth-inspiring bowl. Indian hemp or haschish seems to meet the requirements of the verse better than any other drug. There are also reasons for choosing hyoscyamus or stramonium. The Indian pitcher plants to which Linnaeus gave the name of nepenthes are out of the question. A learned contribution to this study may be found in the Bulletin de Pharmacie, Vol. V. (1813), by M. J. J. Virey.
Belladonna.
Atropa Belladonna is the subject of several legends. How it came by its several names it would be interesting to know. Atropa, from the eldest sister of the Fates, she who carried the scissors with which she cut the thread of life, is appropriate enough but not more to this than to any other poison plant. Belladonna—so-called because Italian ladies made a cosmetic from the berries with which to whiten their complexions; so-called because the Spanish ladies made use of the plant to dilate the pupils of their brilliant black eyes; so-called because Leucota, an Italian poisoner, used it to destroy beautiful women. These are among the explanations of the name which the old herbalists gave without troubling themselves about historical evidence. Belladonna is supposed to have been described by Dioscorides under the name of Morella furiosum lethale, and by Pliny as Strychnos manikon. It was used by Galen in cancerous affections, and its employment for this purpose was revived in the 17th century, infusions of leaves being administered both internally and externally. That it figured among the philtres of the sorcerers cannot be doubted. Like mandragora, it did not act by exciting amorous passions, but by rendering the victim helpless.
Centaury.
The lesser Centaury (Erythraea Centaurium) is alleged to owe its name to Chiron the Centaur, who is supposed to have taught medicine to Æsculapius. The story which associates Chiron with the plant has been given already.
Centaury.