James Morison (not of the Doors nor A.A. Milne) was a British merchant turned physician(?) who died on May 3, 1840, at the ripe old age of 70 after suffering through a mid-life crisis of intolerable pain which he cured by magic little pills of his own devising. Thanks to his little pills created from flora and their miracle cure, he became throughout his later life a notorious advocate of “vegetable medicines.”
Although many of his peers considered him a bit of a quack, he came to his calling in a fairly honorable way; having tried every known cure for his maladies in vain, he devised the vegetable pills and found them to be “the only rational purifiers of the blood.”
He became, at age 50, a new man. He regained his youthfulness; his pains were gone; he enjoyed sound sleep and high spirits. In short, he was healthy, fearing neither heat nor cold, dryness nor humidity. And all because of his dear little pills and a morning glass of lemonade.
Would it have been fair for him to keep this medical miracle to himself? Wasn’t he morally bound to spread this blessing among his fellow creatures? Of courses he was. And what if he profited handsomely from his doing so? One can grow wealthy with a much clearer conscience peddling carrots and turnip pills than peddling many other things.
He established a vegetable pill emporium with the rather lofty title of British College of Health, retired to the south of France where he remained healthy, wealthy and wise until his 1840 death.
“The Vegetable Gardener” by Giuseppe Arcimbaldo
Vegetables are interesting but lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat. — Fran Lebowitz