The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1866-07-26
The Surgeon at Work.


On the black board by the door of
q London hospital there is attached by
four waters a simple announcement.
Simple as it looks, it meets with very
great notice, for as the students keep
dropping in, some in little knots, 9TH
ers singly, a good many in pairs, the
first thing they look at is the little sheet
of paper, with but few words in print,
and fewer in writing upon it. "Has it
begun 2" 'Is Mr.. = here yet?" are
the constant questions addressed to the
important man with the red collar on
his coat of blue. This functionary is
the porter, whose chief business con-
sists in keeping order among the crowd
of people in the out-patients room, and
in letting up and down a wooden bar
to allow them as their turn arrives ac-
cess to the celebretieS they have come
to consult. Let us follow the students
as they pass through the various pas
sages and corridors of the building,
The out-patient practice has ho charm
for the students to-day. The physi-
clans are going their rounds alone; for
however often the theory may be enun-
ciated that in rank the practice of physic
takes precedence OF the practice Of sur
gerry, yet the fact remains patent that a
brilliant operator creates more enthusi-
asm than the best physician, his test
tubes, stethoscOpe, and microscope
Notwithstanding. Passing up a narrow
stair case, we find ourselves at the top
of tier of steps at the bottom of which
is the room proper. The bright rays
of the sun pass through the ample sky
light, and discover a densely-packed
mass of people filling the round gallery.
We are in the operating theatre of the
hospital Around us we see, let into
the walls, medallions of the great sur
geons of old times-the apostles of the
art, whose names are held in reverence
by their clever eager followers of to-
day. Here and there among the stu
dents we have pale-faced, anxious-look-
ing men, who have called in during
their round of so-caled "general prac-
tice." They have come to see their
former master operate-the surgeon who
is at the pinnacle of his profession, and
who has earned fame, wealth, and now
a title, by his talents, and who has
been the instrument in Gods hands of
alleviating much human suffering and
distress.
In the area Of the theatre there are
signs of the approaching operation.
There is the peculiar table that can ex-
tend and fold in all directions, with its
straps and appendages. There are cans
of hot and cold water, the basins, the
sponges, and many other things. Tho
sugical dresser fits about, anxious that
nothing shall be forgotten, and the
house surgeon, with ligatures ready in
the button-hole of his coat, is examining
for the last time the glittering array Of
knives and other instruments preserved
in case as delicately lined as a ladys
jewel-box.
BY degrees the minor luminaries of
the medical and surgical staff of the
hospital arrive, and the students ranged
above, SO noisy at their college in
awarding approval to their favorite
teachers, only show here by a half
stihed buzz their recognition. At last
the lion Of the hour arrives, a strong,
stalwart man, placid, cool, and smiling,
the least anxious of the whole assembly.
A smothered roar of appreciation meets
him as he lifts his eyes and mods to the
assembled crowd. A gesture of his
hand, checks any anseemly noise, for
now the patient is being carried in and
laid tenderly on the cushioned table.
The latter gives sharp, half-frighten.
ed glance above at the dense mass of
hushed, eager, and expectant students,
The time has at last arrived which has
been in his thoughts for days and
weeks-aye, may be months. 1t is a
moment Of agony for the poor man, in
spite OF all the care and kindness shown
him. The great surgeon whispers in
his ear and pats his shoulder kindly.
The patient grasps the hand of his
friend, and instantly another medical
man fits the apparatus for the inhalation
of chloroform. In little while he is
wandering in his talk, he gesticulates
with his hands, but soon he drops of
like sleeping child. Quietly turning
up his cuffs, and giving scrutinzing
glance through the cleaning instru-
ments spread on the white-clothed tray,
the surgeon turns to the diseased limb
There is q dead stiffness throughout the
theatre, as with steady hand the opera
tor coolly and rapidly proceeds. His
knife is crimson now, and the warm
red blood wells up and spirits around.
The saw is quickly used, and few
more dexterous movements with the
knife perfect the operation. All the
pumping arteries are caught and tied,
and the parts are skillfnlly adjusted.
Then the still unconscious patient is
carried off to awake in bed, and find
himself surrounded by all that skill,
ingenuity, and wealth can bring to bear
for suffering man. The surgeon has
done his best within his limit; the issue
rests with God; for, Except the Lord
build the house, they labor in vain that