when they are out of his view, are frequently lost. On the contrary, nothing is more burdensome and fatiguing for a sick person, nor more inconvenient, and often injurious to bystanders, than long continuance at a sick bed, especially when the number is very great. To this, we may add, that the advantage derived from im mediate instruction at a sick bed, is commonly enjoyed by those only who stand close to it, whilst those who are more remote can see little or nothing. They are tired too with long standing, are often incommoded by troublesome neighbours, or scatter and talk among themselves. Of two evils, therefore, we must chuse the least, and remove the lecture from the sick bed. I believe, however, that a middle way might be found, in which the remarks which had an immediate relation to the symptoms exhibited by the patient, and especially those connected with the art of observation, might be treated of in a few words at the sick bed; and the others, as well as the illustrations, reserved for a separate lec tnre. SUMMER COURSE. (From the beginning of May to the end of August.) Botany. Dr Rutherford. In the morning, from 8 to 9. Dr Rutherford has a very plain exterior, from which one cannot discover the uncommon abilities and extensive knowledge which he possesses. This useful and learned man has travelled through all the provinces of physic and medicine. Chemistry has been his favourite study. We have to thank him for the discovery of Azote, (Rutherford Thesis de aere mephitico, 1772.) The Encyclopedia Britannica, at least, ascribes this discovery, without hesitation, to Dr Rutherford. He is also the founder of the clinical school of Edinburgh; his clinical lectures are extremely prized. In the course of these, Dr Rutherford goes particularly deep into pathological anatomy, which his extensive knowledge of anatomical subjects renders extremely easy to him. There is no doubt, that this learned man would have also an extensive practice in the city, were he not withheld from it by repeated attacks of the gout. He enjoys, however, the particular confidence of very many families. I had an opportunity of hearing a botanical lecture of Dr Rutherford, and also, of visiting along with him the botanical garden. This lies an English mile from Edinburgh, on the road leading to Leith. It is of considerable size, and in the best order. Among others, I saw a beautiful Ferula Asa Fatida in bloom. The garden at Kew received these plants from this garden. Natural History. Dr Walter. (Walker.) From 2 to 3. The present professor had been prevented for two years, by bad health, from giving lectures. I have already mentioned, that clinical lectures are also given in Sum mer. Private Lectures. In Edinburgh, besides the public, many private lectures are also given. Every one is allowed to deliver them, without asking permission of any. People are convinced, that one who should want the requisite qualifications, would draw upon himself a prohibition to lecture from the mere want of hearers. Here follows the list of those private lectures which are most regularly delivered : Chemistry. This science is treated of, both by Dr William (Thomas,) Thomson, and by Mr John Murray. Dr Thomson. Mr Davy gave me a letter to this chemist, already known and celebrated by his works. These lectures are very highly prized on account of their depth, and particularly sought after by those who wish to cultivate the study of chemistry. I heard one of them myself: Dr Thomson spoke spoke of the combination of acids with coal, and without any notes before him, treated the history of this subject with such depth and perspicuity, that I could not have expected a more elegant lecture from Vauquelin himself. Dr Thomson's own remarks on the oxydized gas from coal, were particularly interesting. Mr Murray has an extremely agreeable delivery, which really approaches very near to that of Fourcroy. These lectures are attended by most of the students, and even by ladies. Mr Murray also lectures throughout the Summer on Materia Medica and Pharmacy. Anatomy and Physiology. Dr Barclay. He is the author of a new anatomical nomenclature. His lectures are praised. I could not attend them, as Dr Barclay lectures only during the winter. Anatomy, Surgery, and Midwifery, -Mr Charles Bell, This able young man has very agreeable manners, and displays much knowledge. He possesses an interesting collection of pathological preparations. Besides these, he has many anatomical preparations, and in the department of midwifery, has formed a number in wax, with his own hand, of which I must say, that they are the most beautiful, that is, the most natural I have ever seen; those of Florence, Vienna, and Paris, not excepted. Mr Bell is, besides, a particularly skilful painter. Clinical Surgery. Mr Russel. Although this useful man has the title of Professor of Surgery, he does not belong to the medical faculty. He gives, twice a-week, clinical lectures in the hospital, which excite universal inter, est. Mr Russel has two assistants, Dr Brown, and Mr Thomson. I have had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the latter. Mr Themson is completely acquainted with literature in general, and particularly with German literature. Along with this, he has a great zeal for his own science. I have spent many interesting hours with this amiable and agreeable man. The subject of animal medicine is commonly lectured npon by Mr AlLn, who was then travelling. I regretted very much not being able to make his acquaintance, as I heard his praise out of every mouth. The number of students at this University exceeds a thousand; those who attend the medical classes amount to five hundred. The latter are bound to spend three years in the study of medicine alone, before they can attain to the degree of Doctor, unless they can prove that they have studied at other medical schools. I BY THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. (Continued from our last, p. 892.) DEAR SIR, Letter VII. Took leave of you in my last when we were hovering to the N.E. of the isle of Egg, and suffering the most poignant throes of hunger. " Sirs, " have you ainy bridd?" said Mr J. "Hu, she, she," said Angus. wish you would gie me a small piese," returned he. Angus either did not understand, or took no notice of him, for the request was never granted.The worm continued to gnaw. "There will be nothing for it," said I, " but to eat oakum and drink bilge water;" "Faith," said Mr W., we'll lick meal and eat cheese." "L-dpreserve us," said Mr J. Angus now struck up a good fire, and put on a pot pot full of ugly ill-washed potatoes, with six salt herrings. I have seen the day when Mr W. would have thought them next to poison; poison; but he now started a doubt that they were not meant for us, as they really did not belong to us: this was a piece of heavy news, and I strove to corroborate it by unanswerable evidence. I believe it is the case, said Mr J.; but 'tis no matter, we must just mutiny, and take them by force, for I can put off no longer:-d-n them," said W. " if they don't give us of their potatoes, we'll give them none of our gin." We were, however, invited to partake of this delicious fare, " and snapt them up, baith stoop an' roop;" we began at the tails of the herrings, and ate them off at the nose, leaving nothing but the two eyes.We continued to move slowly on, and got some striking views of Egg, which hath a very romantic appearance from some points, especially from the N.W.; on the other hand, the stupendous mountains of Coulan in the forest of Sky, with some of the bold promontories of that island, formed a scene of the wildest grandeur. As we approached the coast of Rum, we saw four or five whales playing in the mouth of the bay, one of which was amongst the largest of them that frequent those seas. In the evening we were quite becalmed a little off the north-east coast of Rum, when we retired all three to our hammocks, and slept soundly until about two in the morning; when I got up, being somewhat disgusted at having arrested an overgrown louse which was traversing one side of my beard: it was then beginning to blow fresh out of the S.W. and a dark fog hid every thing from our eyes. As I perceived the direction, I easily perceived that they were luf perceiving our condition; he spoke none; his colour was as pale as if the cold hand of death had been upon him; and his mouth had assumed an exact resemblance in shape to a long bow, the nether lip being the string. He came running out of the forecastle, and placed himself beside me astern; arose that moment, and run again into the forecastle; tumbled over every thing that came in his way; hasted back again to me. I said he would hurt himself. What was it that hurriedhim so? "Nothing, nothing," said he, "only I have some potatoes roasting in the fire, and I am afraid they will burn." He was by this time growing extremely sick, and knew not well what he said; I perceived this, and a little after asked him how he did? He returned me the following laconic answer, in words scarcely articulate, " O Sir, I'm gone!" I did not fail in future to remind him of this, but he always averred that he did not mean by the exclamation to impress upon me the belief that he was going immediately to take leave of life; but that he was then fallen a prey to the insufferable nausea of a seasickness. The motion of the vessel. had also by this time thrown Mr J. into a morbid lethargy; he still kept his. hammock, and puked at times so violently, that I thought his chest should have rent. The fog still continued, and we saw no land until about seven o'clock, A.M. Had our crew steered in the direction they ought to have. done, we should by this time have been in the sound of Harris; and tho' : of Cannay when I arose, I expostulated with the men on the impropriety, of holding so far to the southward, but they were inflexible, and held on their course. The wind again increased to a gale; the sea grew rough, and the vessel rolled amain. It was on the morning of the Sabbath, and I shall never forget the impatience manifested by Mr W. on awaking and fing too much, I had hopes that we would land somewhere in that neighbourhood. What then was our mortification, on perceiving that we were off Boigdale-head in South Uist, a short way north of the Sound of Barra; and that after having sailed about thirty hours, to find that we were no nearer our destination than when we set out from the main land the preceding day!. They They could make no apology for this mistake, but only, that they foresaw a storm, and wished to reach a coast on which they could find shelter in case of necessity. They had certainly considerably mistaken their bearings; but the truth was, that they were utter strangers on the coasts of Harries, although one of them pretended to the contrary; and they wished not to approach it on any account, but, at all events, not until the weather mended. My two friends continued all this while excessively sick: Mr J. lay in a drowsy insensibility, callous and indifferent either to danger or disappointment.He manifested, however, not the least dissatisfaction; and whenever I asked him how he did, his answer was always, " I am quite well, now," This was not the case with Mr W., who was continually shifting the scene. Now he would be lying on his lowly couch, groaning and vomiting: anon, he would be on deck taking the sailors to task; but as they did not understand his dialect, he frequently left them in a huff, and retired again to his hammock. I never heard him receive a satisfactory answer, save one, and then, though they were at cross purposes, they were both satisfied. " Is that South Uist, or North Uist?" said he, pointing to the shore, and meaning the isles of S. and N. Uist. "It is South Uist, Sir," said Angus, " look at the compass." His stomach heaved so much, that his chest would not dilate to take in more air than was sufficient for the utterance of two or three words; and as he was continually engaged in swallowing, or endeavouring to swallow his spittle, his sentences were very short and comprehensive. Whenever I asked him how he did, his answer was uniformly "O Gud!" After a breathing he would sometimes add," this is terrible work." Though there are few of the human race whom I respect more than this gentleman, as judging him every way worthy of it, yet I can never help laughing, when I remember how he was horrified at the sea storm. We now run before the wind with great velocity, keeping in a straight line with the headlands of South Uist, Benbecula, and North Uist, for upwards of fifty miles. The whole of these coasts presented nothing to our eyes but naked desolation: the sea seems to have washed away every thing but the solid rocks, and to have forced itself into the country in innumerable creeks, in spite of every other impediment. The predominant colour on the face of the Uists is that of the grey rock, and where soil of any kind prevails, it is only a turf of moss. On the western shore, indeed, there are a few bays, around which there is a mixture of sand, where crops are raised equal to any in these barren regions. The coasts are bold and rocky, but low in comparison with those of Sky. We looked into Loch-Eynard, when we were first certified where we were; and I could scarcely prevent the sailors from running into it for shelter, as I never could apprehend any danger while we were on a weather shore, and plenty of sea-room.About mid-day we opened Loch-Madi in North Uist, when no arguments could move them to proceed further; so they run the vessel up into it, and anchored beside other two large ones that had taken shelter there. It is not easy to conceive a more dreary and dismal-looking scene, than the environs of this harbour exhibit: the whole country is covered with moss, or grey stones, without the smallest green spot; the sea runs into the country nearly the whole breadth of the island, and spreads itself into a thousand branches, stretching in exery direction, which renders travelling completely impracticable; and indeed there is not the smallest semblance of a road. We were, however, agreeably surprised at finding a good slated inn, of two stories, where we took up our residence during the remainder of the day, and the following night. You would lose all all patience, were I to detail the whole of our adventures in Uist, which are nevertheless well worthy of a place; and if you had not found fault with me in this respect, you should have heard such a story! What should I have heard, James? You should have heard what a curious waiter we had; -how he clasped his hands above his head whenever he could not comprehend our meaning;-how much we were at a loss for want of Gaelic; -how we hunted the rabbits; --tired of waiting at Kersaig, and set out to traverse the country on foot to its northern extremity, and there procure a passage for Harries. You should have heard of our unparalleled embarrassments and difficulties, and how we fell out with the natives and were obliged to return; -how we arrived again at the place where we set out in the morning, both completely drenched and fatigued ;how the house, and every part about it, was crowded with some hundreds of Lord Macdonald's people, who were assembled to pay their rents; -what an interesting group they were, and how surprised my two friends were at see-ing such numbers in a place which they had judged a savage desert, and unfit for the nourishment of intellectual life. You should likewise have heard how our crew fell asleep on board, and could not be awaked; - of Donald's despair: and many other interesting particulars, of which you must now live and die in ignorance. I continue, Sir, as usual, Your affectionate, On POETICAL TASTE and CRITICISM. only engaged the attention, but awakened the free, unqualified criticisms of almost all descriptions of people, from the most frigid and dull plodder, up to the man of the most refined feelings, and brilliant imagination. Music, painting, sculpture, and many of the mechanical arts, which depend, in a great measure, on the execution of the artist, keep the general, superficial observer, a little at bay, conscious, no doubt, of his inexperience in the minutiæ, and leading principles of the art: but poetry, from its being communicated in terms intelligible to all, and descriptive of scenes, sentiments, and passions, familiar to all, seems to have become a general property, and to authorize every pretender to taste, to give a decided opinion on what appertains only to a very limited number. As it is of some consequence to define the nature or quality of an art, previously to a consideration of its effects, it may not be improper to enquire, 1st, what poetry really is, and, 2dly, what the requisites, or natural qualities are, which enable us to judge accurately, and to enter particularly into its peculiar excellence and beauties. The efficient cause, or exciting principle of all genuine poetry, consists of certain qualities, powers, and passions, in the human mind, which may be comprehended under the following heads: namely, sensibility;-fancy or imagination; benevolence; -love;-friendship; and a moral detestation of what is mean, selfish, sordid, and un J. H. generous. Without these, or at least CONSIDERING the unfrequent appearance of true poetic genius, and the difficulties annexed to the art, it is not a little remarkable, that, from time immemorial, it should have not Jan. 1809. ' |