Licence: Public Domain Mark
Credit: Singular specimens of the Edinburgh practice of criticism. Source: Wellcome Collection.
Provider: This material has been provided by the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh. The original may be consulted at the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh.
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![clieated Dr. Balfour out of the copyright of liis Manual—that I paid him for one thing and took from him another. You say, that that gentleman, being a young author, beiug green^ and acting unwittingly^ was, by some “mysterious commercial arrangements,” deprived of his entire copyright, when he had sold only his first edition. That, consequently, when a second edition was required, “ he found himself in the jjredicament of being called upon to superintend its preparation ON terms with which he could not comply.” That, under these circumstances^ and acting under the advice of his FRIENDS [!], he had no option hut to abandon his Manned cdtogether, and leave it to those who had in this way acquired it, to make .of it what they liked.” There was once a tradition that Authors were helpless Innocents, and that Publishers were Ogres who went about seeking to devour them. But that, in the )^ear 1851, seven grave Professors of the University of Edinburgh—seven Sages of Modern Athens—should collectively affirm such tomfoolery to be matter-of-fact, and that, too, at a moment while boasting of their amazing powers to digest fresh information^ however tough it may 5e, is a thing that would be incredible were it not in print before me, prefaced by your names. Fallen, fallen, indeed, is the practice of Edinburgh reviewing! I should like to know what your colleague. Professor Balfour, says to your agreeable account of this affair. Does he admit that he is, as you represent him^ so young^ so green, so unwitting, so incompetent to act for himself, and so sub- missive to the advice of his friends 1 I should like to learn also how you knew that he was in the “predicament of bemg called upon to superintend a second edition, on terms ivith which he could not comply.^' His predicament was, no doubt, very awful. He was in danger of being troubled with a hundred pound note, and with (what he had asked for,) the entire literary control of his Manual. Such was the Necromancy which the Ogre exercised against the Innocent. But even if Professor Balfour had told you that he was in the terrible predicament of having to refuse £100 for doing almost nothing, what right had you to pronounce publicly, and upon a private and ex parte statement, a decision that impugns my honesty? Is this a specimen of the law and morals taught in your University ? Your business, as reviewers, was with the Second Edition of the Manual of Botany, and with that alone. When you insinuate, that by means of a “ mysterious commercial arrangement,” I defrauded your colleague of his entire copyright when he had sold only his frst edition, you step out of yom* true path to do a gi’oss act of injustice, and to propagate an untruth. You profess to know all the particulars of the transaction, and come forward voluntarily to wash Professor Balfour from the stains of blame. If you do know the particulars,—those same particulars that Professor Balfour communicated to his legal advisers,— how is it, that those legal advisers admitted that I was in the right, while you declare me to be in the wrong? Your sole argument is, that my commercial arrangements were mysterious.—What! Too mysterious for Edinburgh lawyers to see through, and yet transparent to medical professors ? The supposition is](https://iiif.wellcomecollection.org/image/b28044009_0031.jp2/full/800%2C/0/default.jpg)
