There is another class of remedies which appears to have been employed occasionally, but, on the whole, is so little prominent as to imply a good deal of common sense among the medical practitioners, as compared with the superstitions prevailing around them.  I have said that I have caught the good Governor, now and then, prescribing the electuary of millipedes; but he is entirely excused by the almost incredible fact that they were retained in the materia medica so late as when Rees’s Cyclopaedia was published, and we there find the directions formerly given by the College of Edinburgh for their preparation.  Once or twice we have found him admitting still more objectionable articles into his materia medica; in doing which, I am sorry to say that he could plead grave and learned authority.  But these instances are very rare exceptions in a medical practice of many years, which is, on the whole, very respectable, considering the time and circumstances.

Some remedies of questionable though not odious character appear occasionally to have been employed by the early practitioners, but they were such as still had the support of the medical profession.  Governor John Winthrop, the first, sends for East Indian bezoar, with other commodities he is writing for.  Governor Endicott sends him one he had of Mr. Humfrey.  I hope it was genuine, for they cheated infamously in the matter of this concretion, which ought to come out of an animal’s stomach, but the real history of which resembles what is sometimes told of modern sausages.

There is a famous law-case of James the First’s time, in which a goldsmith sold a hundred pounds’ worth of what he called bezoar, which was proved to be false, and the purchaser got a verdict against him.  Governor Endicott also sends Winthrop a unicorn’s horn, which was the property of a certain Mrs. Beggarly, who, in spite of her name, seems to have been rich in medical knowledge and possessions.  The famous Thomas Bartholinus wrote a treatise on the virtues of this fabulous-sounding remedy, which was published in 1641, and republished in 1678.

The “antimonial cup,” a drinking vessel made of that metal, which, like our quassia-wood cups, might be filled and emptied in saecula saeculorum without exhausting its virtues, is mentioned by Matthew Cradock, in a letter to the elder Winthrop, but in a doubtful way, as it was thought, he says, to have shortened the days of Sir Nathaniel Riche; and Winthrop himself, as I think, refers to its use, calling it simply “the cup.”  An antimonial cup is included in the inventory of Samuel Seabury, who died 1680, and is valued at five shillings.  There is a treatise entitled “The Universall Remedy, or the Vertues of the Antimoniall Cup, By John Evans, Minister and Preacher of God’s Word, London, 1634,” in our own Society’s library.