Curiosities of Medical Experience

by J. G. Millingen

Antidotus verò multis Mithridatica fertur
Consociata modis, sed magnus Scrinia regis
Cùm raperit victor, vilem deprendit in illis
Synthesim, et vulgata satis medicamina risit.
Bis denum Rutæ folium, salis et breve granum,
Juglandesque duas, totidem cum corpore ficus;
Hæc oriente die, parco conspersa Lycæo,
Sumebat, metuens dederat quæ pocula mater.

The ancients were so fond of perfumes, that they scented their persons and garments, their vases, their domestic vessels, and their military insignia. They not only considered aromatic emanations as acceptable to the gods, and therefore used them in their temples, as they are at present by the Roman Catholics, but as announcing the presence of their divinities; and Virgil thus speaks of Venus:

————Avertens roseâ cervice refulsit,
Ambrosiæque comæ divinum vertice odorem
Spiravêre.

Chaplets of roses were invariably worn in festivals and ceremonies; and wines were also aromatised with various odoriferous substances. The Franks and the Gauls continued the same custom; and Gregory of Tours called these artificial-flavoured liquors, Vina odoramentis immixta. To this day, the manipulation of French wines gives them a fictitious bouquet, with raspberries, orris-root, and divers drugs to suit the British market.

No external sense is so intimately connected with the internal senses as that of smell; none so powerful in exciting and removing syncope, or more capable of receiving delicate and delicious impressions: hence Rousseau has denominated this faculty “the sense of imagination.” No sensations can be remembered in so lively a manner as those which are recalled by peculiar odours, which are frequently known to act in a most energetic measure upon our physical and moral propensities. How many perfumes excite a lively feeling of fond regret when reminding us of the beloved one who was wont to select them, and whom we long to meet again! It is not improbable that our partiality to the hair of those who are dear to us, arises from this circumstance. Every individual emits a peculiar odour; and, according to Plutarch, Alexander was distinguished by the sweet aroma that he shed. Perhaps the expression, so frequently found in the lives of the saints, “who die in odour of sanctity,” may be referred to a belief that this peculiar gift was granted to beatitude.

It has been observed, that animals who possess the most acute smell, have the nasal organs the most extensively developed. The Ethiopians and the American Indians are remarkable for the acuteness of this sense, accounting for the wonderful power of tracking their enemies. But although we may take the peculiar organization of their olfactory organs as being partly the cause of this keen perceptibility, we must in a great measure attribute this perfection to their mode of living. Hunting and war are their chief pursuits, to which they are trained from their earliest infancy: therefore this perfection may, to a certain extent, be the result of habit; and the sight and hearing of these wanderers are as singularly perfect as their smelling. Mr. Savage relates, that a New Zealander heard the report of a distant gun at sea, or perceived a strange sail, when no other man on board could discern it. Pallas, in speaking of the Calmucks, says that many of them can distinguish by smelling at the hole of a fox whether the animal be there or not; and on their journeys and military expeditions they often smell out a fire or a camp, and thus seek quarters for the night or booty. Olaüs Borrich informs us, that the guides between Smyrna, Aleppo, and Babylon, when traversing the desert, ascertain distances by the smell of the sand. That odours float in the atmospheric air is obvious; the distance at which they are perceived is incredible. The spicy breezes of Ceylon are distinguished long before the island is seen; and it is a well-known fact that vessels have been saved by the olfactory acuteness of dogs, who, to use the common expression, were observed to “sniff” the land that had not been descried. As a proof of the intimate connexion between smell and respiration, when the breath is held odorous substances are not perceived, and it is only after expiration that they are again recognised. A proof of this may be easily obtained by placing the open neck of a small phial containing an essential oil in the mouth during the acts of inspiration and subsequent expiration. Willis was the first who observed that, on placing a sapid substance in the mouth, and at the same time closing the nostrils, the sensation of taste is suspended; and this observation has given rise to the prevailing opinion that smelling and tasting are intimately related. Odour which thus accompanies taste is termed flavour; and the ingenious Dr. Prout has admirably defined the distinction between taste and flavour, and he considers the latter an intermediate sensation between taste and smell.

The acuteness of the sensation of smelling in animals is such, that in many instances our observations have been deemed fabulous. The distance at which a dog tracks his master is scarcely credible; and it is strange that the ancients attributed a similar perfection to the goose. Ælian affirms that the philosopher Lycadeus had one of these birds that found him out like a dog:

Humanum longè præsentit odorem
Romulidarum acris servator, candidus anser.

Birds of prey will scent the battle-field at prodigious distances, and they are often seen hovering instinctively over the ground where the conflict is to supply their festival. Humboldt relates, that in Peru, at Quito, and in the province of Popayan, when sportsmen wish to obtain that species of vulture called vultur gryphus, they kill a cow or a horse, and in a short time these sagacious birds crowd to glut their ravenous appetites. Ancient historians assert that vultures have cleft the air one hundred and sixty-six leagues to arrive in time to feast upon a battle; and Pliny boldly affirms that even crows have so acute a sense of approaching corruption, that they can scent death three days before dissolution, and generally pay the moribond a visit a day before his time, not to be disappointed. This notion has become a vulgar prejudice, as much so, indeed, as the howling of a dog, which is considered in most countries as foreboding death. In various animals an offensive odour is a protective gift. The staphylinus olens, for instance, sheds an effluvium which effectually keeps away the birds who would otherwise pounce upon him. But of all singular perfections in the sense of smelling that were ever recorded, may be cited the monk of Prague and the blind man in the Quinze-vingt Hospital of Paris, who possessed the faculty of ascertaining the presence of virginity whenever a female had the luck of being introduced to them.

Many curious instances are recorded, where the loss of one sense has added to the acuteness of others. Dr. Moyse the well-known blind philosopher, could distinguish a black dress on his friends by the smell. Professor Upham of the United States, mentions a blind girl who could select her own articles out of a basket of linen brought in by the laundress.