of that book, Mr. Heinrich Dieter, has kindly permitted me to use this picture.
Tintoretto scarcely left Venice all his life, and it has been supposed that he may have become acquainted with Paracelsus when the latter was, as he said he was, an army surgeon in the Venetian army in the years 1521-1525. Dr. Aberle points out that if Tintoretto was born in 1518, as is generally supposed, the painting from life was impossible; even if he was born in 1512, as has also been asserted, it was unlikely. Moreover, the gentle-looking person represented, whose amiable "bedside manner" is obviously depicted in the portrait, could not possibly have been the untamable Paracelsus if any reliance can be placed on the art of physiognomy.
Nicholas Culpepper.
This well-known writer, whose "Herbal" has been familiar to many past generations as a family medicine book, deserves a place among our Masters in Pharmacy for the freedom, and occasional acuteness with which he criticised the first and second editions of the London Pharmacopœia. One specimen of his sarcastic style must suffice. The official formula for Mel Helleboratum was to infuse 3 lbs. of white hellebore in 14 lbs. of water for three days; then boil it to half its bulk; strain; add 3 lbs. of honey and boil to the consistence of honey. This is Culpepper's comment (in his "Physicians' Library"):—
"What a monstrum horrendum, horrible, terrible recipe have
we got here:—A pound of white hellebore boiled in 14 lbs. of water
to seven. I would ask the College whether the hellebore will not
lose its virtue in the twentieth part of this infusion and decoction
(for it must be infused, forsooth, three days to a minute) if a man
may make so bold as to tell them the truth. A Taylor's Goose
being boiled that time would make a decoction near as strong as
the hellebore, but this they will not believe. Well, then, be it so.
Imagine the hellebore still remaining in its vigour after being so long
tired out with a tedious boiling (for less boiling would boil an ox),
what should the medicine do? Purge melancholy, say they. But
from whom? From men or beasts? The devil would not take it
unless it were poured down his throat with a horn. I will not say
they intended to kill men, cum privilegio; that's too gross. I
