may indeed be true, though the manner in which it produces such an effect has not, as yet, been explained. Mr. Hunter, who believed that life had the power of regulating temperature independently of respiration, says nothing of that process as directly contributing to such an effect. He says, 'Breathing seems to render life to the blood, and the blood conveys it to every part of the body,' yet he believes the blood derives its vitality also from the food. I am at a loss to know what chemists now think respecting heat, whether they consider it to be a distinct species of matter, or mere motion and vibration. Among the curious revolutions which this age has produced, those of chemical opinions have a fair claim to distinction; to show which, I may add, that a lady,* on her first marriage, was wedded to that scientific champion who first overthrew phlogiston, and established in its stead the empire of caloric; and after his decease, on her second nuptials, was united to the man who vainly supposed he had subverted the rule of caloric, and restored the ancient but long-banished dynasty of motion and vibration. In this state of perplexity, I can not, with prudence or probable security, advance one step further than Mr. Hunter has led me. I must believe respiration to be essential to life, and that life has the power, by its actions, of maintaining and regulating temperature."+ CHARACTERISTIC, BOTH AS TO ILLUSTRATION AND MORAL BEARING. "Those of the medical profession must readily accord with the remark of Shakspeare, that such affections, which may well indeed be called 'master pas * Madame Lavoisier, whose celebrated husband was guillotined, afterward married Count Rumford. t Physiol. Lect., v., p. 237. sions,' sway us to their mood in what we like or loathe; for we well know that our patients and ourselves, from disturbance of the nervous functions of the digestive organs producing such affections of the brain, may become irritable, petulant, and violent about trifles, or oppressed, morose, and desponding. Permit me, however, to add, that those of the medical profession must be equally apprised that when the functions of the mind are not disturbed by such affections, it displays great energy of thought, and evidence of established character, even in death. Have we not lately heard that the last words of Nelson were, Tell Collingwood to bring the fleet to an anchor? Shakspeare has also represented Mercutio continuing to jest, though he was mortally wounded; the expiring Hotspur thinking of nothing but honor, and the dying Falstaff cracking his jokes on Bardolph's nose. I request you to excuse this digression, which I have been induced to make from perceiving that if such facts were duly attended to, they would prompt us to a more liberal allowance for each other's conduct under certain circumstances than we are accustomed to do, and also incite us to the more active and constant performance of the great business of human life, the education of the mind, for according to its knowledge and dispositions do we possess the ability of contributing to our own welfare and comfort, and that of others."* Lect., vi., p. 257 CHAPTER XXII. ABERNETHY AS A TEACHER. "Trace Science, then, with modesty thy guide, Or learning's luxury or idleness, Or tricks, to show the stretch of human brain LECTURING after a fashion is easy enough; teaching is a very different affair. The one requires little more than good information, some confidence, and a copia verborum; the other establishes several additional requisitions. These requisitions, when rendered comparatively easy by nature, are seldom perfectly matured without art and some careful study. The transmission of ideas from one mind to another, in a simple unequivocal form, is not always easy; but in teaching, the object is not merely to convey the idea, but to give a lively and lasting impression; something that should not merely cause the retention of the image, but in such connection as to excite another process, "thought." There was no peculiarity in Abernethy more striking than the power he possessed of communicating his ideas, and of sustaining the interest of the subject on which he spoke. For this there is no doubt he was greatly indebted to natural talent, but it is equally clear that he had cultivated it with much care. His ability as a lecturer was, we think, unique. We never saw his like before-we hardly dare hope we shall again. There is no doubt that a great part of his success depended on a facility of giving that variety of expression, and that versatility of manner, which falls within the province of what we must call dramatic; but then it was of the very highest description, in that it was perfectly natural. It was of that kind that we sometimes find in an actor, and which conveys the impression that he is speaking his own sentiments rather than those of the author. It is a species of talent which dies with its possessor, and can not, we think, be conveyed by description. Still there were many things in Abernethy that were observable, and such as could hardly have been acquired without study. If we examine any lecturer's style, and ask ourselves what is his fault, we shall find very few in whom we can not detect one or more. When we do this, and then reflect on Abernethy, we are astonished to find how many he avoided. We shall endeavor to make this as intelligible as we can by citing some of the features which our attention to different lecturers has suggested. Simplicity has struck us as a feature in lectures which, in some sense or other, is very commonly defective. Simplicity appears so important, that perhaps, by not a very illegitimate extension of its meaning, it might be made to include almost all the requisitions of this mode of teaching. Let us think of it in relation to language and illustration. In all sciences the facts are simple, the laws are yet more so; increasing knowledge tends to impress on us an ever-increasing and comprehensive simplicity. In explaining simple things, no doubt language should be simple too. If we employ language unnecessarily technical, we use: He symbols to which the learner is unaccustomed. has not to learn the facts only, but he has the additional labor of something allied to learning it in a foreign language. The unnecessary use of technicalities should surely be avoided. Abernethy was obliged to use them because there were often no other terms, but he always avoided any needless multiplication of them. When they were difficult or objectionable, he tried some maneuver to lighten the repulsiveness of them. There are many muscles in the neck with long names, and which are generally given with important parts of surgical anatomy. Here he used to chat a little; he called them the little muscles with the long names; but he would add, that, after all, they were the best named muscles in the body, because their names expressed their attachments. This gave him an ex cuse for referring to what he had just described, in the form of a narrative rather than a dry repetition. Then, with regard to one muscle that he wished particularly to impress, the name of which was longer than any of the others, he used to point it out as a striking feature in all statues; and then, repeating its attachments, and pointing to the sites which they occupied, say it was impossible to do so without having the image of the muscle before us. In other parts of the Lectures, he would accompany the technical name by the popular one. Thus he would speak of the pancreas, or sweet-bread; cartilage, or gristle: few people are aware how many dif ficulties are smoothed by such simple maneuvers. Nothing interests people so much as giving any thing positive. We think it not improbable that many a man has heard a lecture in which animals have been |