publish as a matter of course an official annual report of their general practice.

What is urged is, that every hospital in the kingdom should turn its advantages to account by publishing annually a classification, on Miss Nightingale's plan, of the diseases treated in its wards during the year preceding (out-patients are not worth the trouble), with short notes where necessary, and in important cases illustrations. Each hospital would vie with the others in producing the best report; and it appears to us that trustworthy statistics might thus be obtained which would materially forward our knowledge of hygiène and therapeutics, two sciences still in their infancy.

Would not that be something for subscribers to see for their money? And if that is not what hospitals have always aimed at in a vague sort of way, pray what is the use of the elaborate system of registration of patients that everywhere prevails? And have the "case-books" fulfilled their last duty when they have furnished apt illustrations for a clinical lecture? Is this the sole reason why physicians and surgeons are so anxious to preserve the notes of a discriminating “casetaker"?

But what is every one's business is proverbially no one's business; and as a good report would cost a great deal of time, trouble, and expense, of course no one cares to take up a thing which not only would not pay, but would most likely leave the reporter out of pocket. Let any enterprising hospital guarantee the expense of publishing the report, and offer a moderate but sufficient remuneration to the compiler, and we are sure there would be no difficulty in finding a competent man for the purpose.

CHAPTER IX.

OUR IN-PATIENTS.

Allotment of patients to students-Irish patients-Classification of diseases-The visits-"Conservative surgery". Operations-Chloroform-Students' faces at operations— Captain Grant-Stretchers-Medical cases-Classification of diseases-Chest and heart sounds-Favourite diseases of

different physicians – "An interesting P.M.". Relatives at "P.M.'s "-Rokitansky of Vienna-" A swell diagnosis " A "broken heart"-A lecturer at home.

We will now enter the wards and show you what men do when they have arrived at the most interesting stage of their medical studies, and are enjoying their in-patient appointments. Still proceeding from the easier to the more difficult duty, the student becomes first in-patient dresser. Each surgeon has generally three dressers, who share the patients among themselves, not the duties, as in the out-patient room. According to the days of his "Governor's" visits, A. will have all the cases that come in on Monday, B. those on Wednesday, and C. those on Friday; or they will "take in " by turns, each man having all the patients who come in during his week, and at some places where this plán prevails he has free quarters and rations in the hospital during his "week's take in."

No one complains now of want of interest or variety in the diseases, for their name is legion; in fact, they seem as if they might be classified in the same way as the Russian generals in "Napoleon's March to Moscow:"

Each case is entered in the "case-book," not forgetting the index if you wish to save trouble, short notes being made of the "present symptoms," and of the antecedent course of the disease, for which the ambitious word "history" is the favourite term.

The dresser visits his patients every morning at the same hour as the house-surgeon, so that he may appeal to superior knowledge if in any difficulty. It is not safe to say at what time the visit begins, for punctuality is not a favourite virtue with a fourth-year man, now rejoicing in his escape from early lectures, especially "that confounded anatomy at nine o'clock, with the theatre freezing." However, if the dressing and casetaking be all despatched before the patients' dinner, no harm is done; they do not mind waiting half an hour or so for a kind man with a pleasant smile and a merry joke when he does come. If he take pains with them all will be right, and his trouble will be not only appreciated but applauded by some amusing Irish patient, whose impulsive gratitude is sometimes quite touching. "God bliss ye, docthor; ye've a noice loight hand!" is a common enough form of thanks with these affectionate people.

A joke with them is often as efficacious as medicine.

An ugly old woman who believed she had pain in every part of her frame, one day exclaimed to us,

Docthor, docthor, I shall die!" and as that is the first line of an old song, we could not help completing the couplet by replying, "Yes, pretty maid, and so shall I !"*

This so tickled her fancy that she soon forgot to talk about her various aches and pains, accordingly she rapidly improved.

They sometimes describe their symptoms in a most amusing way. A "Paddy was admitted for facial paralysis, and he told us the right side of his face had gone all wrong," but the left side still remained "illigant intirely!"

Another came and said, “Ah, docthor! I'm kilt intirely !"

"Musha, Paddy, how are ye kilt?"

'Oh, bedad, I've got half-a-dozen toothaches in me side !"

What a graphic description is this of rheumatism in the intercostal muscles!

N.B. We always try to pays very well while they are blarney is enough to get a

speak Irish to them; it alive, but no amount of P.M. on a dead Irish

patient allowed by the surviving friends.

Say dinner will be at half-past twelve; that gives ample time for the ward to be settled again, and for the dresser to lunch and look at the paper before the surgeon's visit at half-past one. A popular physician or surgeon going round to make his visit always reminds us of a Highland chief "with his tail on ;" he

* This is the only good couplet in the whole song, so we will not trouble our readers with the remainder.

G

has the house-physician or the house-surgeon for his "henchman," the clinical clerks or the dressers for his 'foresters," and a long string of other students for his "guard of honour."

66

You would fancy, perhaps, that the patients would be much annoyed at having a rabble of thirty or forty men trudging after their doctor, and crowding round their beds to examine everything, as a matter of course; but no, they like to feel themselves of so much importance, and even women scarcely ever care about greater privacy. An old lady once declared she "liked to see their cheery young faces all peering at her." We have often wondered the trampling is not distracting, but no one ever complained of it to us.

Mr Arnold Cooley, the well-known author, has described his experience of hospital life in a little book called 'Three Months in a Hospital.'

This gentleman was very severely injured by being run over in the street by an omnibus, and he very sensibly caused himself to be taken to the nearest hospital. He describes his sufferings very graphically, and he seems to be quite a monument of surgery; but it is to be regretted that he has devoted so much space to the psychology of delirium, and comparatively so little to the opinions of hospital life expressed by his fellow-patients. Perhaps he will supply this defect in a future edition.

Mr Cooley complains of the apathy exhibited by the bystanders when he met with his accident, especially by the driver and conductor of the omnibus which ran over him; and we have often observed the same brutal neglect in street accidents which we have ourselves witnessed. People stood still and stared, but did