Chinese Herbs. John D. Keys
REPRESENTATIVES
For Continental Europe: BOXERBOOKS, INC., Zurich For the British Isles: PRENTICE-HALL INTERNATIONAL, INC., London For Canada: HURTIG PUBLISHERS, Edmonton For Australasia: BOOK WISE (AUSTRALIA) PTY. LTD. 104-108 Sussex Street, Sydney
Published by the Charles E. Tuttle Company, Inc.
of Rutland, Vermont & Tokyo, Japan
with editorial offices at
Osaki Shinagawa-ku, Tokyo 141-0032.
Copyright in Japan, 1976
by Charles E. Tuttle Co., Inc.
All rights reserved
Library of Congress Catalog Card No. 75-35399
International Standard Book No. 978-1-4629-0129-6
First printing, 1976
PRINTED IN JAPAN
TO MY MOTHER AND FATHER
who watched the preparation of this work
over the years
FOREWORD
by Ilza Veith, Ph.D.
Professor, History of Health Sciences
University of California
EVER SINCE its first contact with the Far East, the Western world has been irresistibly fascinated by the materia medica of China, by its promise of health, longevity, increased sexual potency, fertility, and rejuvenation.
It is for this reason that John D. Keys's work Chinese Herbs: Their Botany, Chemistry, and Pharmacodynamics is such a welcome publication. It provides an excellent and scholarly insight into most practical aspects of the herbal lore of China. Although not a complete description of all Chinese herb medications, it is a selection of those that appear most important to the author; these, incidentally, have become best known to the Western world.
In making his selection, the author has not failed to include ginseng root, which is said to cure all ills, to return youth and beauty, and even to confer the latter if it had not previously existed. A further sine qua non in all descriptions of Chinese herb medicine is the legendary Ma Huang, which was avidly accepted in the West, where it came to be known by its botanical name Ephedra sinica, and was synthesized as ephedrine to furnish an indispensable drug for the treatment of asthma and allergic reactions.
Many readers will view the extraordinary richness of the Chinese herbal pharmacopoeia with wonder, and question how it came into being. The secret of this development lies in the beginning of Chinese medicine, which is veiled in legend. Important in this legendary back-ground is the personality of an emperor of the third millennium B.C. This emperor, Shen Nung or "The Divine Husbandman," was deified by the people as the God of Agriculture for having given China its healing medicines, its rice and other foodstuffs, and all its agriculture.
To Shen Nung is also attributed the authorship of the first Pen Ts'ao, generally translated as the "Great Herbal." This vast book, which has been analyzed and annotated more than any other Chinese medical volume, is actually of-anonymous authorship. It contains descriptions of vegetable, animal, and mineral medicines and foodstuffs, and it was the forerunner of all later Chinese herbals.
The contemplation of the antiquity and anonymity of the Pen Ts'ao evokes certain parallels with Chinese Herbs here before us. It is well possible that the unknown Chinese herbalist who compiled the first Chinese pharmacopoeia was, like John D. Keys, an amateur in the true sense of the word: He loved to study plants for their healing virtue, but he was not a pharmacologist or a pharmacist. It is to be assumed that the earlier author was Chinese and familiar by birth with the spoken and written language of China. Mr. Keys early in life developed a passionate interest in things Chinese, particularly Chinese herbs. So strong was his interest that he studied the language —an endless undertaking so far as time and effort are concerned— and in eighteen years of single-minded devotion produced this interesting work.
At a time when Chinese culture, civilization, and particularly Chinese medicine occupy the forepoint of interest of the Western world, John D. Keys's contribution is bound to occupy an important place in the literature concerning the healing herbs of the immense country behind the Great Wall.
San Francisco
PREFACE
I CAN RECALL strolling as a child down the streets of San Francisco's Chinatown and passing by at least one herb shop in every block. They always did intrigue me, especially when I would pause before an open door and inhale the alluring smells of odoriferous woods and spices which drifted from the dim interior. Almost always an ancient Chinese, wearing a pair of immense spectacles, would be peeping out over the half-curtains in the window, and I must confess he struck me as looking rather sinister.
The window itself would be arranged with small porcelain saucers, each containing a small mound of some herb or another. There were chips of various woods, shriveled rootlets, bunches of frizzly grasses that looked like miniature tumbleweeds, rodents stretched and dried on small wooden frames, and delicate seeds. Several tall apothecary jars, almost opaque with the accumulation of years of dust, contained lengths of viper steeped in who knew what.
Small boxes covered with Chinese characters and wrapped in cellophane were arranged here and there, all of them bearing the words, "Made in Hong Kong." These were obviously modern manufactured pills which utilized the traditional medicaments of the Chinese pharmacopoeia.
After a while I became a little bolder, and would step into the doorway of one of these shops, adjusting my eyes to the darkness within. Against the wall would be a massive, ornate counter, running the length of the store. The wall itself contained row upon row of tiny drawers, each filled with a certain dried herb or other medicine. These drawers possessed no labels or other identifying marks, yet the Chinese druggists could at a second's notice locate the desired item. Sometimes they had to use a ladder, for the drawers went up to the ceiling, and back into the shop as far as one could see.
On the counter stood a scale-beam for weighing out the herbs and other medicines. Beside the scale lay a pile of rectangular pieces of paper, in which the medicines were wrapped. The druggist, following the instructions of a written prescription, would first grind the dried herbs to a powder in an earthenware mortar. Lastly, the deft fingers of the clerk would slip over the black teakwood beads of the abacus which lay at the front of the counter, to determine the amount due.
Against the other wall stood a row of high-backed, rather elegant carved chairs which were mounted on a low platform. Here the customers would sit and chat as they waited for their prescriptions. It was a symbol of prosperity to be seen leisurely passing one's time in the herb shop, for the Chinese take medicaments not only to cure illness, but also as a preventative and general tonic. And many of these wonder drugs were not cheap.
And thus began an overwhelming desire on my part to learn more about Chinese herbs, a subject so little understood by the Western world. Was the interest primarily botanical or medical? At that time I could not answer this question, but whatever inherent drive launched me on what was to become a very extensive study indeed, I immediately took the first logical and necessary step, namely the study of the Chinese language.
After several years of linguistic preparation, I undertook the translation of Chinese pharmaceutical works. Until recently, analyses in the English language of Chinese materia medica have been the result of translations from the ancient and traditional native works. Because of the vagueness of expressions and terms used by the Chinese authors, and their inclination to the marvellous,