are to be referred. He himself tells us, that the foundation of his great work on Inflammation was laid at the seige of Belleisle; and the frequent allusions, in the "Observations on the Animal Economy," to experiments made at this time, sufficiently show, that every interval of leisure which he could spare from his other avocations was devoted to his favorite physiology. Where others found idleness, John Hunter found leisure. Where others saw nothing but a gun-shot wound, and were entirely occupied by the details of its treatment, his active and sagacious mind passed forward through the series of causes on which the appearances before him depended, till it rested at length in the great primary principles of pathology. But the perseverance of John Hunter was exposed to the severest trial, when he returned to London, and entered upon the ordinary routine of professional practice. A divided pursuit is rarely successful, especially when neither object is attainable, without great exertion, and earnest and unremitting attention. Extensive physiological researches seem incompatible with extensive practice; since, amid the multiplied distractions of a professional life, they can scarcely be followed with that continuity and steadiness which are absolutely essential to their success. Hence it is generally found necessary, at a certain period of life, to select one of these two paths and to abandon the other and it must be confessed that the de cision is usually in favour of that which leads to greater profit, and more immediate reputation. As professional engagements multiply, the scientific pursuits of early life, attractive as they once were, and pregnant as they are with extensive benefit to future generations, are usually abandoned. Had the option been open to John Hunter, it cannot be doubted where his choice would have fallen. The whole tenor of his life, as well as his recorded expressions show, that he would most willingly have renounced every chance of professional distinction, and have consecrated his whole time and thoughts to the completion of his collections, to the study of the structure and functions of men and animals, to the discovery of those great and primary laws by which animated nature is regulated. But in truth this was not possible: he had no means of prosecuting these latter objects but such as he derived from success in his profession; to abandon practice would have been to abandon also the knowledge, and the lasting fame for which he thirsted. Forced to combine the two, he adopted the only expedient which remained to him; he devoted the day to his profession, and the night to science. It is recorded of him, that he always rose before six, and seldom retired to rest before two in the morning and, as the four hours thus allowed for sleep were insufficient for the necessities of nature, he usually eked out the measure, by stealing one hour from the day, selecting that which could best be spared from his other avocations. His dissections, his preparations, the writings he has left behind him, were chiefly the work of those hours, when all around him were buried in repose. Even when labouring under a most depressing malady, suffering from a sense of weakened powers, and in daily expectation of sudden death, John Hunter found in these afflictions only incentives to redoubled exertion. We are told that he was tormented by the fear, that he should be snatched away, leaving his many discoveries unrecorded, the investigations he had commenced, interrupted and incomplete, and his immense collection, the great work of his life, unexplained and unintelligible and that, under the influence of these apprehensions, he laboured more assiduously than ever, not only devoting his own time and efforts, but availing himself of every assistance from others, which friendship could persuade or money could purchase. If he did not entirely succeed, if he was cut off before he reaped the harvest of his exertions, this is but the lot of humanity : "The fair guerdon when we hope to find, Comes the blind Fury, with the abhorred shears, The edifice which he projected was perhaps too vast to be erected by one individual, or to be completed within the limits of a single life. Yet what * Milton's Lycidas. he did achieve remains a memorable example of what can be effected by the powers which Providence has allotted to man, provided those powers are employed without stint, without intermission, and without distraction. If this representation of John Hunter, as he actually was, while it contains much to be admired, contains also something to be regretted; if he may be charged, not unjustly, with having been so absorbed in the pursuit of science, as to have paid too little attention to the futurity which was immediately impending; yet, when we compare him with the multitudes who waste their lives on trivial and temporary indulgence, we cannot but acknowledge that his choice was the wiser; and that in the discoveries which he made, and the gratitude and admiration of succeeding generations, his industry has been crowned with a reward, compared with which the gratifications of the idler and the sensualist are utterly worthless. But the industry of John Hunter would have been of little avail, unless it had been employed in the only true path of philosophical discovery, the path of experiment and induction. He had never read Lord Bacon, but his mode of studying nature was as strictly Baconian as if he had. Born in an age, when the course of philosophical enquiry was no longer confined to the track of ancient authority; associating with those, who were themselves experimental philosophers; and endowed by nature with a mind eminently practical, and a body of untiring activity, he pursued that course which reason and nature dictated, assuming nothing but the truth of what was evidenced by his senses, and ascending from this basis to those higher principles which are cognizable only by the intellect. He is a living example, and on some accounts the best that could be found, of the high value of that system for the interpretation of nature which was introduced by Lord Bacon, which has already pervaded every branch of physical science, and has laid the foundation of an edifice, the future height and breadth of which cannot be estimated by human powers, since it must continue to grow, as long as there are parts of the universe unexplored, or time is left to carry on the investigation. The Baconian philosophy is so well known, and in general so justly appreciated, that it may seem superfluous to say a single word in its praise. It has obtained a decisive victory over every rival, less by the reasoning and the eloquence of its great author, wonderful as these undoubtedly were, than by the practical experience which mankind have had of its benefits. The two hundred years, which have elapsed since the appearance of the Novum Organum, have been so fruitful in discoveries, the previous time was so barren, that few indeed have been able to resist the conclusion, that the older philosophers failed because their efforts were misdirected, and that the true path of inves |