what is called their reason-by policy-by positive legislation and instituted rule. These, indeed, continually fluctuate and vary infinitely-as every thing founded upon the conclusions of Utilitarian logic will ever be found to do. But the great bulk and body, if we may so express it, of the morality of nationsthe jus gentium of civilized peoples-springing, as it does, out of feelings which are inherent in the heart wherever it beatsis perpetual and uniform. The same taste in literature which pronounced Homer the first of poets in his own times, has survived all the vicissitudes of empire and manners. Nature does homage to his genius still, because his genius is always true to nature. His pictures of virtue and vice, are as just and as pleasing now as they ever were, and time has made far greater changes in the spot where his heroes fought-the face of the great globe itself-than in the sentiments which their achievments and their sufferings are fitted to awaken. School-boys are still taught to repeat the heroic exhortation of Sarpedon, and to study, in Hector, the model of every public and private excellence.

The intellectual discipline of the Utilitarians is of a-piece with the moral. Its professed object is the same, and so are its effects. It aims at cultivating the understanding alone, at the expense of the imagination and sensibility. It proscribes poetry and eloquence, and we have Mr. Neal's authority for saying, that this part of the system, at least, has been completely successful. Here, too, they are at war with nature, and their "vast Typhoean rage" vents itself indiscriminately upon whatever most embellishes society and refines and exalts the spirit of man. Why is there so much about us to inspire genius, and to make the heart o'erflow with fragrance and with joy?" Why is nature vocal with sweet music, and clothed all over in beauty, as with a bridal garment, so that the most useful objects in creation are still the most distinguished for grandeur and loveliness, and there is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and yet another glory of the stars, and "great and innumerable fruit, and many and divers pleasures for the taste, and flowers of unchangeable colour, and odours of wonderful smell?"* Why, we ask, is this; and what is still more, why was a being placed in the midst of all this magnificence and deliciousness, with a moral and intellectual constitution in perfect harmony with the external world thus adorned and pleasant, and with every capacity for enjoying it, if his whole duty was to be self-denial, and his highest perfection, in

Esdr. ii. 6, 44.

sensibility? The truth is, that poetry is a part, and an essential part, of human nature; and he who can look out upon the material world, as it lies before him in its grandeur and beauty, or read of the heroic doings of the mighty dead, without feeling his bosom warmed with that enthusiasm which is the soul of poetry, falls, so far, short of what man ought to be. The ordinary relations and duties of life are surrounded with associations which have a like effect upon the imagination and the heart. "Honor thy father and thy mother" is a precept of universal morality, and even an Utilitarian, we suppose, would generally assent to its reasonableness-but what a difference is there between a cold compliance with the letter of the law,between such a conformity as "the greatest happiness principle" exacts of a politic" arithmetician "-and the religious veneration, the fervid and holy love, the entire devotedness of soul which Sophocles has consecrated in the person of Antigone! It is this poetry of the affections-thus protecting and cherishing the virtue which it adorns that is seared and blighted by this churlish and cynical doctrine. "All the decent drapery of life," to borrow the felicitous language of Burke, "is rudely torn off," and the beauty which gives to moral excellence its highest attraction, and the love which makes duty happiness, and the endearing sensibilities, without which the most scrupulous propriety of conduct is cold and ungainly, wither away beneath its influence. If by some sudden change in our own constitution, or in that of the material world, whatever, in sensible objects, now charms the eye and the ear, and through them, the imagination and the heart, were to become indifferent to us—so that all music and beauty should cease to be, and sight and hearing should inform us merely of the existence of nature, without filling us with such transports of pleasure and admiration as her works are fitted to inspire-how deformed and desolate would this magnificent universe become! Such is precisely the effect of the discipline in question-such is the havoc which it makes in the soul of man.

But enough of Utilitarianism-a philosophy, the very reverse of that so justly, as well as beautifully described in Milton's Comus.

"How charming is divine philosophyNot harsh and crabbed as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute

And a perpetual round of nectared sweets."

ART. II.—1. An Essay on the Operation of Poison upon the Living Body. By Mr. MORGAN, Surgeon of Guy's Hospital; and THOMAS ADDISON, M. D. Assistant Physician of Guy's Hospital. 8vo. London. London. 1829.

2. A Practical Treatise on Poisons and Asphyxies, adapted to general use. Followed by directions for the treatment of Burns, and for the distinction of real from apparent Death. By M. P. ORFILA, Professor of Medical Chemistry in the Faculty of Paris, Professor of Legal Medicine, President of Medical Juries, Physician in Ordinary to the King, &c. Translated from the French, with Notes and Additions. By J. G. STEVENSON, M. D. with an Appendix, containing the Principles of Medical Jurisprudence, and Chemical and Anatomical Considerations, addressed to Physicians. 8vo. Boston. 1826.

Of all the departments of the medical profession, none is so little understood, by the physicians of this country, as that of toxicology. So rarely, indeed, is it referred to as a science, that an uninitiated person would be naturally induced to believe, that sufficient knowledge of its objects was obtained during the pursuit of other branches of the profession, and that its study, as distinct from that of medicine, was superfluous. So far is this from the real state of things, that a physician may become deeply learned in the nature and treatment of diseases, while he remains profoundly ignorant, or, at best, but slightly acquainted with the properties and effects of poisons, always excepting two or three of the most common. There is but too much reason to fear that many of our best informed physicians are not sufficiently intimate with this important branch of a science, which we are proud to rank as the most useful, and among the most philosophical of our times.

Two causes, we think, have especially concurred to produce this neglect of the science to which we are about to devote some attention. Accidents from poison being more rare than diseases from other sources, and being seldom, if ever, referred to in those medical books to which the attention of the student is first directed, he acquires the habit of overlooking the subject; and nothing may occur during his course of study, to attract his notice to a subject which is but little investigated by his seniors in the profession. Let it be remembered, however, that in every physician's practice, cases will occur, which will demand the same acquaintance with the chemical characters and physiolo

gical effects of poisons, as with the symptoms and treatment of diseases from other causes; and who would not shrink from the thought, that his negligence had suffered some unhappy fellowbeing to pass, as in a moment, from the hopes and enjoyments of life, to that awful and mysterious phantom-world, which none can enter calmly, but those who feel assured of future happiness, or those too insensible to deserve a future existence? And but a small proportion of his patients will belong to either class. Another, and, we believe, a more sufficient reason is, that it has been common for too many of the medical profession to consider the science of chemistry as of very little importance, and therefore to neglect the acquisition of that knowledge, which might enable them to detect the presence of many of. the most dangerous and most common of the poisons. Such an opinion is entirely groundless, and leads to the most unfortunate results. If, for example, a physician should be called upon to decide, after death, whether or not a deceased individual had died by poisoning, and should evince any inability to make such decision, he lends his aid to those who would deny the value of medical evidence, and contributes his mite to the disrepute of the profession, so far as concerns its weight in these important questions.

Notwithstanding the general neglect of the science of toxicology, it has been most diligently cultivated by a few, among whom are Plenck, Franck, Fontana, and Orfila. To Orfila, particularly, we owe the present improved state of the science; and his writings justly entitle him to the high reputation which he has acquired.

Before proceeding to the consideration of the particular poisons, we shall make a few remarks on the modes in which these bodies extend their influence from the tissues to which they are directly applied, to the system at large.

It is established that poisons may prove fatal, by being thrown directly into the veins, and thus coagulating the blood; as in the case of corrosive acids. They may also produce death, by their impression on the minute filaments of the sympathetic nerve, expanded on the internal surface of the veins; as in the experiments of Morgan and Addison with the poison called woorara. Some poisons are fatal when thrown into the cellular tissue under the skin-as the muriate of ammonia; others when applied to the skin after the removal of the cuticle or to a deeper wound or ulcer, as in the instance of white arsenic; or even to sound skin, as prussic acid. Many poisons, especially those of the vegetable kingdom, produce their fatal effects very rapidly, when placed in the cavities formed

by the serous membranes; as those of the pleura and the peritonæum. Poisons, in the form of vapour or gas, make their attack upon the mucous membrane of the nose, trachea and lungs; as seen in the effects of chlorine, carbonic acid, and sulphuretted hydrogen gases, even in a diluted state. But a large majority of cases depend on impressions made on the mucous membrane of the stomach and intestines.

The effects produced by poisons on the tissues to which they are applied, are generally extended with considerable rapidity to other parts of the system; and the greatest sum of morbid phenomena is frequently developed in organs very distant from the part to which the poison is applied. Thus, tobacco acting on the skin, seems to have little local influence, but implicates the Estomach and heart, exciting nausea, and weakening the force of the circulation; and if the surface be raw, produces convulsions, by irritating the brain and spinal marrow. Prussic acid placed on the skin, in even a healthy state, rapidly prostrates the vitality of the brain and nerves. Some vegetables, as belladonna and stramonium, if placed in the stomach, act on the brain, so as to excite delirium. We are all familiar with Banquo's exclamation,

"Were such things here, as we do speak about,
Or have we eaten of the insane root,
That takes the reason prisoner."

Cantharides, when applied to the skin, or the mucous membrane of the stomach, produces irritation of the mucous coat of the bladder. Numerous examples might be offered, in which organs are disordered by the application of poisons to distant parts; but they would be superfluous.

A question has arisen among physiologists, whether poisonous substances extend their influence to distant parts, by being absorbed, and thus carried, by the blood, through the system, so as to act directly upon the tissues in which the symptoms are displayed, or whether their impressions are conveyed, by means of the nerves, from one system to another. This being a problem of considerable practical importance, it will be proper to state some of the facts advanced in support of the doctrines at present entertained.

An impression has long prevailed, that poisoning takes place by the entrance of the deleterious substance into the blood; and its consequent action on that fluid, as well as on the brain and other organs. We find this idea developed in the unrivalled drama of Shakspeare.