application of principles to the general theories of living existence, and consequent pathology of living actions, is concerned, Mr. A. sees more in his predecessor, than his predecessor himself ever saw. That Mr. Hunter was a truly great man it would be absurd to derry. His name will go down to posterity shining brightly in the records of physiological science, to the stores of which he effectually and largely contributed. His investigations on the subject of the absorbent system; his discoveries in, and ardent pursuit of, that too much neglected science-comparative anatomy; his pathological inquiries into the nature and peculiarities of secretory and inflammatory action; and even his speculations concerning the blood: (where we think we find him most at fault,) these will ever stand as so many monuments to his fame, and evidences of the advancement of surgical science. But while we say thus much, we cannot help repeating our conviction that Mr. A.'s enthusiasm in behalf of his predecessor, seems to have blinded him to some of the obvious defects of Mr. Hunter's reasoning, which, if not often founded upon a false analogy, is sometimes made to speak the language of metaphorical and unwarrantable generalization. As one instance out of many that might be brought to substantiate this charge, we may refer the reader to his mode of explaining the coagulation of the blood, which he says appears to him to arise from the stimulus of necessity' a statement which would be very well as an enunciation of a fact, with a confessed ignorance of its cause; but which, when taken as an explication of a law, is open to all the objections that oppose themselves against the imaginary entities of the antient philosophers. It is making the language of poetry usurp the place of the language of science. Indeed, Mr.° H.'s notions respecting the living principle of the blood, have always in our judgement partaken altogether too much of a gratuitous and unmeaning mode of philosophizing.

----

One of the great beauties of Mr. A.'s pathological speculations, consists, we think, in its freedom from this common error of substituting a mere change of terms for a change of doctrine. Into the discussion of his particular views it is not our design at present to enter, as we purpose to treat more at large on the modern doctrine of nervous sympathies and digestive derangements, in our next number, where Dr. Yeates's recent treatise on Hydrocephalus will come under our notice. In connexion with the pamphlet now before us, we have merely to remark, that whether Mr. Abernethy's doctrines are true or false; whether his principles are carried to too great a length, or are not yet sufficiently extended; whether their application to medical and surgical science will eventually constitute an improvement or not, in these respective branches of the healing art ;we think they would have emanated from the workings of his

own active and original mind, without any previous hints derived from the discoveries or doctrines of Mr. John Hunter. In his former lectures on the analogy of living actions to the phenomena of electricity, which he then also denominated a defence of Mr. Hunter, we confess we could not find much of Mr. Hunter throughout the whole of his very ingenious researches. To his own reflections, and perhaps in some measure to an attendance upon the lectures of Sir Humpliry Davy, did our Author scem principally indebted.

But we will not now pursue this subject. Let the medical and philosophical reader peruse the respective works of the two great men whom we have mentioned together on this page, and let him compare, and collate, and judge for himself. Whatever his conclusions may be on the question in debate, he will, we venture to promise, be amply recompensed for his trouble; for neither Mr. Hunter nor Mr. Abernethy can ever be read without pleasure and profit. We shall in the present instance confine ourselves to transcribing the very animated and impressive conclusion of the pamphlet now before us.

There is one sentiment (says Mr. A.) which ought, I think, to attach every English surgeon to the memory of John Hunter. It is that esprit de corps which belongs to all associations of mankind. We should be grateful to him, for he has exalted us. He has dignified our profession. Baron Haller, commenting on the character and conduct of surgeons in general, expresses his surprise, that no one has been particularly eminent in that profession. To me it would have been surprising had it been otherwise, considering the debased condition into which the profession had sunk, and in which it had remained for ages. I admit that surgery was gradually rising, and would eventually have obtained its proper level among sciences; when Mr. Hunter suddenly raised it to its present elevated situation. Mr. Hunter became a physiologist, and to become such a physiologist as he was, it was necessary that every variety of structure and of function should be surveyed in every variety of living being; that nature and nature's laws should be examined with the most minute attention, and upon the most extended scale; that parts should be observed with microscopic scrutiny, and yet that comprehensive views should be taken of the whole. Afterwards, with the enlightened eye of a physiologist, he surveyed the perverted actions of living bodies in the production of diseases. Thus did he make surgery a science. It is the knowledge of health that makes us to understand the nature of disease. He connected pathology with physiology, and it is impossible in future ever to disjoin them. He raised a solid and permanent pillar of physiology, and he placed surgery on the top, where it must ever remain equal in rank and elevation to any other science, perhaps superior in utility to all.There is no path to scientific improvement in our profession but that which Mr. Hunter trod. It is the path of physiology. It is now fairly laid open to you. He has been your pioneer. Enter, and in proportion as you pursue

t with vigour and constancy, so will you arrive at knowledge, and obtain renown. Do this; and it is certain no future Haller will have cause to express surprise, that Surgeons have been undistinguished characters in the medical profession."

Art. VI. Letters from Albion to a Friend on the Continent. Written in the Years 1810, 1811, 1812, and 1813. 2 Vols. pp. 260 and 281. Price 14s. Gale, Curtis, and Fenner, Paternoster-row. 1814.

A MILITARY Lord has recently published a work descrip

tive of "A forced Journey through several Parts of France." With either the merits or the faults of this work we do not pro fess to be much acquainted; but we have heard a person who was bold enough to venture upon its purchase without waiting for the decision of the critics, and who, of course, deserved to be taken in; we have heard him complain of this Noble performance, on the ground of its comprising nothing more than dissertations on good dinners and pretty women. Had we, in the present instance, been guilty of the misdemeanour that has been invidiously laid to the charge of Reviewers, that of merely looking into, and not actually reading, the works upon which they dare pass severe judgement, we might have been disposed to condemn the present production of a German Baron, on the same plea on which our disappointed friend censures the book of the British Lord; and, verily, there is a great deal too much, in the little volumes before us, of flippant, common-place, and gossiping jejuneness. All, however, is not so bad; and we are of opinion, that in this book-making and book-buying day, many fourteen shillings are expended in worse bargains than will be obtained by the purchasers of "Letters from Albion,"

The history of these Letters is given in a short Preface.

They arose from a correspondence which a foreigner, during his residence in this country, really kept up with an intimate friend on the continent. They were originally written in German, and, of course, not designed for publication. As, however, the author's stay here was protracted by the unfavourable turn in the affairs of Europe previous to the battle of Leipsic, he found a particular consolation in translating the letters into English. Hence, perhaps, some slight departure from the acquired idiom which may claim the reader's indulgence.'

The first of these letters the Author dates from Harwich, and in this he gives his friend an account of his journey from Berlin to Cuxhaven, and thence to the place from which he commences his correspondence. His route from Berlin lay through Hamburgh; and in this place he expresses his indignant feel

ings at the cruel severity and shocking minuteness with which the edicts of Buonaparte were obeyed, in reference to the prohibition of colonial produce.

As it proved a fine evening I took a range through the principal streets of the city, and stopped for some moments at the gate of Altona, where a spectacle new and unheard of engaged my attention. A never-ceasing throng of people appeared to block up the gate; men, women, gentlemen and ladies, in carriages and on horseback, were stopped by the douaniers, and minutely searched for contraband. It is true that some dealers in colonial produce had employed women of the abandoned class to carry in sugar, tea, and coffee, in small parcels from Holstein, by suspending them round their bodies as an effectual security against all decent search. But a Frenchman is above such niceties; and the douaniers literally bared the prostitutes, to the great scandal of the gaping crowd. And as impudence, when unrestrained by public law, knows no bounds, they even ventured this abominable search with ladies of modesty and consideration, and neither the splendour of their equipages, nor retinue, could shelter them from such unexampled outrage. I assure you seized on all my limbs at seeing these brothel scenes; and I hastened back to my hotel, unable to conceive how the Hamburghers could see these atrocities every day, without being roused into fury, and butchering down their infamous oppressors.' p. 11,

horror

Our Author shortly after quitted the Continent, and approached within sight of the English coast;-a sight which he hails with so much of the true feeling of an Englishman, that we began to entertain suspicions respecting the genuineness of the professed origin of the work. Our doubts, however, we were soon compelled to relinquish, on account of the numerous transgressions against the English idiom with which it every where abounds. 6 My curiosity,' he remarks, to see the coast ' of England, let me not sleep to a late hour. With the dawn of day I was on deck, and oh, ineffable delight! the coast of Albion lay expanded before my eyes.' He lands at Harwich, and gives his friend a description of his breakfast, with a minuteness which can be tolerated only upon the principle, that every trifle helps to make up the peculiar character of a country and a people. But we do not see the necessity of an English reader being told the shape of a tea-caddy, or the kind of bread and butter which a traveller meets with at an English inn.

The first objects of our Author's animadversion upon his arrival in the metropolis, are the hackney coaches, which he describes as being more miserable and filthy vehicles than even the fiacres of Paris, which are renowned for their dirtiness.'

6

After passing some time in London, and being surprised at the splendour of its streets, and the comfort and happiness of its inhabitants, he finds his way to the legislative assembly.

I went to the House of Lords, panting to behold the august Roman senate of modern times, but missed the Quirites. I was more fortunate at the House of Commons; for there I heard a member speak with noble boldness and winning grace, whose heart beats as warm for the weal of his country, as his tongue pleads the wrongs of the oppressed :-his name is Brougham.' p. 100.

Soon after this passage, we meet with a eulogy on the Edinburgh Review, which is almost immediately succeeded by a sufficiently lively description of the Lancasterian Institution in St. George's Fields; and also Dr. Marsh's opposition to this institution. Of this latter circumstance he speaks in the following

terms:

I was not a little surprised at learning that from Mr. Lancaster's being a quaker, the whole body of the clergy of the established church had publicly stood forth his adversaries; and a dignitary, whose name I have forgotten, blushed not to preach against him in St. Paul's, telling his congregation, from the pulpit, that the devil himself had a hand in this work, to pervert the faith of the believers.' p. 107.

He objects against our trial by jury, the impossibility of bringing an individual before the bar of judgement twice for the same offence. He objects also against the law which exonerates entailed estates from the personal debts of the late proprietor. Into the arguments, defensive or objective, respecting these several particulars of our traveller's censures it would, of course, be altogether out of place for us to enter. We have, however, noticed his opinions on these subjects, both because we wish to give the reader as much insight as is consistent with our limits, into the nature of the work before us, and as there is always some degree of interest attached to independent and unprejudiced sentiments on national and controverted topics.

Influenced by these considerations, an Englishman must read with the most lively feelings the following eulogy on his native land, by a foreigner who had enjoyed opportunities of comparing it with other countries,

What interests you here most (says our traveller) is man.Wherever you turn you see happy faces, with ruddy, health-breathing cheeks; and even in persons of the lowest orders, a decent, often elegant dress, cleanly in the highest degree, and wanting nothing that can set off beauty and afford ease. And happy are they indeed, from the first lord in the kingdom down to the meanest tradesman. But particularly so are those families of the middling classes, whose circumstances allow them to reside in the country. There you should see how fond the faithful wife locks her happy partner to her beating breast, when in the evening he retires to his own home; how his cherrycheeked children cling round his knees, and even the prattling babe stretches out to him its helpless hands. Oh, England! (he adds)