and there is no morbid sound appreciable. There is distinct mucous gurgling and pectoriloquy heard over the apex of the left lung, which also sounds dull on percussion.

Treatment. To take cod-liver oil in dessert-spoonful doses three time a-day. Croton oil liniment to the chest.

July. Her general health is now much improved; perspires much less at night; the expectoration very much diminished in quantity. She can now take exercise in the open air, and is in the habit of walking to church, which is about a mile distant. There are still, however, distinct indications of an existing cavity.

The same treatment to be continued.

January 12, 1851.—I have examined this patient, along with Mr Christie, a few days ago. She has kept her ground remarkably well, but has still some cough and slight expectoration, but no hectic, and has gained flesh considerably. The right lung seems still free from all disease, and the respiration in it is almost puerile. In the apex of left lung there is distinct cavernous respiration, but no garguillement; respiratory murmur very feeble in this side; dulness on percussion under left clavicle still appreciable.

Whether the oil may eventually, in this and the preceding case, bring about a cure is a matter of uncertainty; but there is the strongest reason for believing that it has retarded the onward march of a disease which would otherwise long ere now have proved fatal.1

CASE IX.-Tubercular Phthisis in its second stage; Copious Purulent Expectoration; Hectic, &c.; Cod-Liver Oil; Retardation of the Disease; Death from Hæmoptysis.

E. Monro, weaver, æt. 33, presented himself at the Dispensary in October 1848. States that he has been suffering from cough, with copious expectoration, for some months past, and that he has of late become very thin and weak, and quite unfit for work; perspires copiously during the night, and complains of flushing of the face and fever in the evening; pulse 110. There is distinct dulness under the left clavicle when percussed, and mucous and sub-crepitant râles in the same region. The right lung appears free from disease.

Treatment-Ol. jecoris aselli in dessert-spoonfuls three times a-day. Croton oil to the chest morning and evening.

September 1849.-Monro called at my house a few days ago. Says that after using the oil for three months, he found himself remarkably improved; his cough and expectoration were almost gone, and he had gained much strength. Some four months after this he thought himself sufficiently strong to resume his work, and returned to his damp workshop. From this day he began to relapse, and his former symptoms slowly returned; he has had a sharp hæmoptysis a few days ago, which has agitated him a good deal. To resume the oil

as formerly, and for some time to come to give over all work.

For more than a year after he kept remarkably well, but owing to pecuniary difficulties he was obliged again to take to his cold damp workshop, and again his phthisical symptoms returned. Some six months after, this poor man died suddenly from severe hæmoptysis.

Had the circumstances in which this patient was placed been more favourable, and no necessity laid upon him to provide for a starving family, the result of his case might have been very different; but even with every disadvantage, his life was most unquestionably prolonged by the use of the cod-liver oil.

In proof of the not unfrequent cicatrization, or fistulous transformation, of pulmonary caverns, see Andral's Clin. Med., tom. iii.; also Lænnec on Diseases of the Chest, page 311.

Part Second.

REVIEWS.

ARNAULD'S Port-Royal Logic. Translated by T. S. BAYNES.
THOMSON'S Outlines of the Necessary Laws of Thought.

DESCARTES on the Method of Rightly Conducting the Reason, and
Seeking Truth in the Sciences.

COLERIDGE'S Essay on Method.

WHATELY'S Logic and Rhetoric. New and cheap edition.

MILL'S Logic. New and cheap edition.

DUGALD STEWART'S Outlines.

SIR JOHN HERSCHEL'S Preliminary Dissertation.

Quarterly Review, vol. lxviii.-Article upon Whewell's Philosophy of Inductive Sciences.

"PRAY, Mr Opie, may I ask what you mix your colours with ?" said a brisk dilettante student to the great painter. "With Brains, Sir," was the gruff reply-and the right one. It did not give much of what we call information; it did not expound the principles and rules of the art; but, if the inquirer had the commodity referred to, it would awaken him-it would set him a-going, a-thinking, and a-painting to good purpose. If he had not, as was likely enough, the less he had to do with colours and their mixture the better. Many other artists, when asked such a question, would have either set about detailing the mechanical composition of such and such colours, in such and such proportions, rubbed up so and so; or perhaps they would (and so much the better, but not the best) have shewn him how they laid them on; but even this would leave him at the critical point. Opie preferred going to the quick, and the heart of the matter- 66 Brains, Sir."

Sir Joshua Reynolds was taken by a friend to see a picture. He was anxious to admire it, and he looked it over with a keen and careful eye. 66 Capital composition-correct drawing-the colour, tone, chiaroscuro excellent; but-but-it wants, hang it, it wants-That," snapping his fingers-and, wanting "that," though it had everything else, it was worth nothing.

Again, Etty was appointed teacher of the students of the Royal Academy, having been preceded by a clever, talkative, scientific expounder of æsthetics, who delighted to tell the young men how everything was done, how to copy this, and how to express that. One came up to the new master, "How should I do this, sir?"

Suppose you try." Another, "What does this mean, Mr Etty ?" "Suppose you look." "But I have looked." "Suppose you look again. And they did try, and they did look; and they saw and achieved what they never could have done, had the how or the what (supposing this possible, which is not likely in its full and highest meaning) been told them, or done for them; in the one case sight and action were immediate, exact, intense, and secure; in the other, mediate, feeble, and lost as soon as gained. But what are "Brains;" what did Opie mean? and what is Sir Joshua's "That"? What is included in it? and what is the use, or the need of trying and trying, of missing often before you hit, when you can be told at once and be done with it; or of looking when you may be shown? Everything in medicine and in painting-practical arts as means to ends, let their scientific enlargement be ever so rapid and immense, depends upon the right answers to these questions.

First of all, "brains," in the painter, are not diligence, knowledge, skill, sensibility, a strong will, or a high aim, he may have all these, and never paint anything so truly good or effective as the rugged woodcut we must all remember of Apollyon bestriding the whole breadth of the way, and Christian girding at him like a man, in the old sixpenny "Pilgrim's Progress;" and a young medical student may have zeal, knowledge, ingenuity, attention, a good eye and a steady hand-he may be an accomplished anatomist, stethoscopist, histologist, and analyst; and yet, with all this, and all the lectures, and all the books, and all the sayings, and all the preparations, drawings, tables, and other helps of his teachers, crowded into his memory or his note-books, he may be beaten in treating a whitlow or a colic, by the nurse in the wards where he was clerk, or by the old country doctor who brought him into the world, and who listens with such humble wonder to his young friend's account, on his coming home after each session, of all he had seen and done, and of all the last astonishing discoveries and revolutions of the day. What the painter wants, in addition to, and as the complement of, all the other elements, is genius and sense; what the doctor needs to crown, and give worth and safety to his accomplishments, is sense and genius: in the first case, more of this, than of that; in the second, more of that, than of this. These are the "Brains" and the "That."

And what is genius? and what is sense? Genius is a peculiar native aptitude, or tendency, to any one calling or pursuit over all others. A man may have a genius for governing, for killing, or for curing the greatest number of men, and in the best possible manner; a man may have a genius for the fiddle, or his mission may be for the tight-rope, or the Jew's harp, or it may be a natural turn for seeking, and finding, and teaching truth, and for doing the greatest possible good to mankind-or it may be a turn equally natural for seeking, and finding, and teaching a lie, and doing the maximum of mischief. It was as natural, as inevit

able, for Wilkie to develop himself into a painter, and such a painter, as for an acorn when planted to grow up into an oak, a specific quercus robur. But genius is not enough, even for a painter, he must likewise have sense; and what is sense? Sense drives, or ought to drive, the coach; sense regulates, combines, restrains, commands, all the rest-even the genius; and sense implies exactness, soundness, power, and promptitude of mind.

Then for the young doctor, he must have as his main, his master faculty, SENSE-vous, justness of mind, because his subject-matter is one in which principle works, rather than impulse, as in painting; the understanding has first to do with it, however much it is worthy of the full exercise of the feelings, and the affections. But all will not do, if GENIUS is not there, a real turn for the profession. It may not be a liking for it-some of the best of its practitioners never really liked it, at least, liked other things better; but there must be a fitness of faculty of body and mind for its full, constant, exact pursuit. This sense and this genius, such a special therapeutic gift, had Hippocrates, Sydenham, Pott, Pinel, John Hunter, Delpech, Dupuytren, Kellie, Cheyne, Baillie, and Abercrombie. We might, to pursue the subject, pick out painters who had great genius and little or no sense, and vice versa; and physicians and surgeons, who had sense without genius, and genius without sense, and some perhaps who had neither, and yet were noticeable, and, in their own sideways, useful men.

But one great object will be gained if we have given our young readers (and these remarks are addressed exclusively to students) any idea of what we mean, if we have made them think, and look inwards. The noble and sacred science you have entered on is large, difficult, and deep, beyond most others-it is every day getting more immense, more deep, and in many senses more difficult, more complicated and involved. It requires more than the average intellect, energy, attention, patience, and courage, and that singular but imperial quality, at once a gift and an acquirement, presence of mind-ayxwvoia, or nearness of the vous, as the subtile Greeks called it, than almost any other department of human thought and action, except perhaps that of ruling men. Therefore it is, that we hold it to be of paramount importance that the parents, teachers, and friends of youths intended for medicine, and above all that those who examine them on their entering on their studies, should at least (we might safely go much further) satisfy themselves as far as they can, that they are not below the average in intelligence; they may be deficient quâ medici, and yet, if taken in time, may make excellent men in many other useful and honourable callings.

But suppose we have got the requisite amount and specific kind of capacity, how are we to fill it with its means: how are we to make it effectual for its end? On this point we say nothing, except that the fear now a-days, is rather that the mind gets too much and too many things, than too little or too few. But this means of

turning knowledge to action, making it what Bacon meant when he said it was power, invigorating the thinking substance, of giving tone, and you may call it muscle and nerve, blood and bone, to the mind-a firm gripe and a keen and sure eye: that, we think, is far too little considered or cared for at present, as if the mere act of filling in everything for ever into a poor lad's brain, would give him the ability to make anything of it, and above all the power to appropriate the small portions of true nutriment, and reject the dregs. One comfort we have, that in the main, and in the last resort, there is really very little that can be done for any man by another. Begin with the sense and the genius-the keen appetite and the good digestion-and, amid all obstacles and hardships, the work goes on merrily and well; without these, we all know what a laborious affair, and a dismal, it is to make an incapable youth apply. Did any of you ever set yourselves to keep up artificial respiration, or to trudge about for a whole night with a soporised victim of opium, or transfuse blood (your own perhaps) into a poor, fainting, exanimate wretch? If so, you will have some idea of the heartless labour, and its generally vain and miserable result, to make a dull student apprehend-a debauched one interested, knowing, or active in anything beyond the base of his brain-a weak, etiolated intellect hearty, and worth anything; and yet how many such are dragged through their dreary curricula, and by some miraculous process of cramming, and equally miraculous power of turning their insides out, get through their examinations: and then-what then? providentially, in most cases, they find their level; the broad daylight of the world,-its shrewd and keen eye, its strong instinct of what can, and what cannot serve its purpose,-puts all, except the poor object himself, to rights; happy is it for him if he turns to some new and more congenial pursuit in time.

But it may be asked, how are the brains to be strengthened, the sense quickened, the genius awakened, the affections raised?-the whole man turned to the best account for the cure of his fellow-men? How are you, when physics and physiology are increasing so marvellously, and when the burden of knowledge, the quantity of transferable information, of registered facts, of current names-and such names!—is so infinite: how are you to enable a student to take all in, bear up under all, and use it as not abusing it, or being abused by it? You must invigorate the containing and sustaining mind, you must strengthen him from within, as well as fill him from without; you must discipline, nourish, edify, relieve, and refresh his entire nature; and how? We have no time to go at large into this, but we will indicate what we mean:-encourage languages, especially French and German, at the early part of their studies; encourage, not merely the book knowledge, but the personal pursuit of natural history, of field botany, of geology, of zoology; give the young, fresh, unforgetting eye, exercise upon the infinite diversity and combination of natural colours, forms, substances, surfaces, weights, and sizes—