It is not necessary here to follow out his chain of reasoning from the vital element in tar up to the Supreme Mind from which that vital principle emanated. On the way the author quoted freely and effectively from Plato and Pythagoras, from Theophrastus and Pliny, from Boerhaave and Boyle, and from many other authorities. He showed how the balsams and resins of the ancient world were of the same nature as tar. Van Helmont said, “Whoever can make myrrh soluble by the human body has the secret of prolonging his days,” and Boerhaave had recognised that there was truth in this remark on account of the anti-putrefactive power of the myrrh. This was the power which tar possessed in so large a degree. Homberg had made gold by introducing the vital element in the form of light into the pores of mercury. The process was too expensive to make the production of gold by this means profitable, but the fact showed an analogy with the concentration of the same element in the tar. Berkeley’s process for making the tar water was simply to pour 1 gallon of cold water on a quart of tar; stir it with a wooden ladle for five or six minutes, and then set the vessel aside for three days and nights to let the tar subside. The water was then to be drawn off and kept in well-stoppered bottles. Ordinarily half a pint might be taken fasting morning and night, but to cure disease much larger doses might be given. It had proved of extraordinary value not only in small-pox, but also in eruptions and ulcers, ulceration of the bowels and of the lungs, consumptive cough, pleurisy, dropsy, and gravel. It greatly aided digestion, and consequently prevented gout. It was a remedy in all inflammatory disorders and fevers. It was a cordial which cheered, warmed, and comforted, with no injurious effects. The nation went wild over this discovery. “The Bishop of Cloyne has made tar water as fashionable as Vauxhall or Ranelagh,” wrote Duncombe. The Bishop’s book was translated into most of the European languages, and tar water attained some degree of popularity on the Continent. It owed no little of its success in this country to the opposition it met with from medical writers. The public at once concluded that they were very anxious about their “kitchen prospects,” to use the symbolism of Paracelsus. Every attack on tar water called forth several replies. Berkeley himself responded to some of the criticisms by very poor verses, which he got a friend to send to the journals with strict injunctions to keep his name secret. Paris in “Pharmacologia” refers to the tar water mania, asking “What but the spell of authority could have inspired a general belief that the sooty washings of rosin would act as a universal remedy?” It need hardly be pointed out that the general belief was rather a revolt against authority than an acceptance of it.