  The ancients, who were chiefly guided in their medical notions by the simple operations of nature, attached great importance to the influence of the moon. As the stars directed their navigators, so did the planets in some degree regulate their other calculations. Finding that the state of the weather materially acted on our organism whether in health or in sickness, they attributed this influence to the appearance of the moon, which generally foretold the vicissitudes in the atmospheric constitution. Thus Hippocrates advises his son Thessalus to study numbers and geometry, as the knowledge of astronomy was indispensable to a physician, the phenomena of diseases being dependent on the rising or the setting of the stars. Aristotle informs his disciples that the bodies of animals are cold in the decrease of the moon, that blood and humours are then put into motion, and to these revolutions he ascribes various derangements of women. To enter into these medical opinions would be foreign to the present purpose, but the notions of the ancients regarding lunar influence in other matters are curious. Pliny not only recognises this influence on shell-fish, but observes, that the streaks on the livers of rats answer to the days of the moon’s age; and that ants never work at the time of any change: he also informs us that the fourth day of the moon determines the prevalent wind of the month, and confirms the opinion of Aristotle that earthquakes generally happen about the new moon. The same philosopher maintains that the moon corrupts all slain carcasses she shines upon; occasions drowsiness and stupor when one sleeps under her beams, which thaw ice and enlarge all things; he further contends, that the moon is nourished by rivers, as the sun is fed by the sea. Galen asserts that all animals that are born when the moon is falciform, or at the half-quarter, are weak, feeble, and shortlived; whereas those that are dropped in the full moon are healthy and vigorous. In more modern times the same wonderful phenomena have been attributed to this planet. The celebrated Ambroise ParÉ observed, that people were more subject to the plague at the full. Lord Bacon partook of the notions of the ancients, and he tells us that the moon draws forth heat, induces putrefaction, increases moisture, and excites the motion of the spirits; and, what was singular, this great man invariably fell into a syncope during a lunar eclipse. Van Helmont affirms, that a wound inflicted by moonlight is most difficult to heal; and he further says, that if a frog be washed clean, and tied to a stake under the rays of the moon in a cold winter night, on the following morning the body will be found dissolved into a gelatinous substance bearing the shape of the reptile, and that coldness alone without the lunar action will never produce the same effect. Ballonius, Diemerbroeck, Ramazzini, and numerous celebrated physicians, bear ample testimony to its baneful influence in pestilential diseases. The change observed in the disease of the horse called moon-blindness is universally known and admitted. Many modern physicians have stated the opinions of the ancients as regards lunar influence in diseases, but none have pushed their inquiries with such indefatigable zeal as the late Thomas Parr died at the age of 152, two days after the full moon. The doctor then proceeds to show, by the deaths of various illustrious persons, that a similar rule holds good with the generality of mankind: Chaucer, 25th October 1400, the day of the first quarter. The doctor winds up this extract from the bills of mortality by the following appropriate remark: “Here we see the moon, as she shines on all alike, so she makes no distinction of persons in her influence: “———Æquo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas, Not only did the ancients consider the animal creation as constantly under planetary influence, but all vegetable productions and medicinal substances were subject to its laws. The Druids of Gaul and Britain gathered the famed misletoe with a golden knife when the moon was six days old. The vervain, held in such high repute by the Romans, was gathered, after libations of honey and wine, at the rising of the dog-star, and with the left hand, and thus collected served, for various sacerdotal and medical purposes: its branches were employed to sweep the temples of Jupiter; it was used in exorcisms for sprinkling lustral water; and moreover it cured fevers, the bite of venomous reptiles, and appeased discord; hence it was borne by those heralds who were sent to sue for peace, and called verbenarii; and when its benign powers were shed over the festive board, mirth and good temper were sure to prevail. So generally and so highly appreciated was this all-powerful plant, that Pliny tells us, Nulla herba RomanÆ nobilitatis plus habet quam hierabotane. However, it is somewhat doubtful whether the vervain of the ancients was similar to the plant which now bears that name. It would appear that formerly the appellation of verbenÆ or sagmina was given to various plants employed in religious ceremonies: and branches of pine-tree, of laurel, and of myrtle were sometimes thus denominated. Virgil says in his Eclogues, Verbenasque adole pingues, et mascula thura. Now the epithets of pingues and thura cannot apply to our vervain, but to some resinous production. Medicine at that period might have been called an astronomic science; every medicinal substance was under a specific influence, and to this day the R which precedes prescriptions, and is admitted to represent the first letter of Namque Aries capiti, Taurus cervicibus hÆret; |
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