No doubt patients received some benefit from exposure in the streets in the sunlight and fresh air, and perhaps, too, from some of the old wives’ remedies which were gratuitously prescribed by passers-by.  In Egypt, where certain of the folk cures were recorded on papyri, quite effective treatment was occasionally given, although the “medicines” were exceedingly repugnant as a rule; ammonia, for instance, was taken with the organic substances found in farmyards.  Elsewhere some wonderful instances of excellent folk cures have come to light, especially among isolated peoples, who have received them interwoven in their immemorial traditions.  A medical man who has investigated this interesting subject in the Scottish Highlands has shown that “the simple observation of the people was the starting-point of our fuller knowledge, however complete we may esteem it to be”.  For dropsy and heart troubles, foxglove, broom tops, and juniper berries, which have reputations “as old as the hills”, are “the most reliable medicines in our scientific armoury at the present time”.  These discoveries of the ancient folks have been “merely elaborated in later days”.  Ancient cures for indigestion are still in use.  “Tar water, which was a remedy for chest troubles, especially for those of a consumptive nature, has endless imitations in our day”; it was also “the favourite remedy for skin diseases”.  No doubt the present inhabitants of Babylonia, who utilize bitumen as a germicide, are perpetuating an ancient folk custom.

This medical man who is being quoted adds:  “The whole matter may be summed up, that we owe infinitely more to the simple nature study of our people in the great affair of health than we owe to all the later science."[269]

Herodotus, commenting on the custom of patients taking a census of folk cures in the streets, said it was one of the wisest institutions of the Babylonian people.  It is to be regretted that he did not enter into details regarding the remedies which were in greatest favour in his day.  His data would have been useful for comparative purposes.

So far as can be gathered from the clay tablets, faith cures were not unknown, and there was a good deal of quackery.  If surgery declined, as a result of the severe restrictions which hampered progress in an honourable profession, magic flourished like tropical fungi.  Indeed, the worker of spells was held in high repute, and his operations were in most cases allowed free play.  There are only two paragraphs in the Hammurabi Code which deal with magical practices.  It is set forth that if one man cursed another and the curse could not be justified, the perpetrator of it must suffer the death penalty.  Provision was also made for discovering whether a spell had been legally imposed or not.  The victim was expected to plunge himself in a holy river.  If the river carried him away it was held as proved that he deserved his punishment, and “the layer of the spell” was given possession of the victim’s house.  A man who could swim was deemed to be innocent; he claimed the residence of “the layer of the spell”, who was promptly put to death.  With this interesting glimpse of ancient superstition the famous Code opens, and then strikes a modern note by detailing the punishments for perjury and the unjust administration of law in the courts.