“‘The count was wounded in the arm—the bullet had sunk deep into the flesh—it was, however, extracted—and he is now in a fair way of recovery.’ That will do very well for a novel, but it won’t do for us, gentlemen: for ‘Sir Ralph Abercromby received a ball in the thick part of his thigh, and it buried itself deep, deep: and it got among important parts, and it couldn’t be felt; but the surgeons, nothing daunted, groped, and groped, and groped,—and Sir Ralph died.’” Thus he would introduce an admirable discourse on gunshot wounds, reprobating in the strongest language the perilous and painful practice of making prolonged searches for bullets in important organs. He always illustrated his subject by telling anecdotes, frequently of a side-splitting character, and so compelled his pupils to remember his doctrines. His mental abstraction was not unfrequently manifested strikingly in the lecture-theatre. On one occasion it is related of him that at an introductory lecture at St. Bartholomew’s, when he had been received, as usual, with great applause, he appeared utterly indifferent to it, but quietly casting his eyes over the assemblage, burst forth in a tone of deep feeling, “God help you all! what is to become of you!” His dramatic power was much employed in imitating his patients’ peculiarities, with a mixture of the serious and the humorous which was most effective. Many of his stories were most apt in their bearing on some important fact or principle. One of these we may be allowed to quote from Macilwain.[18] “Ah, there is no saying too much on the importance of recollecting the course of large arteries; but I will tell you a case. There was an officer in the navy, and as brave a fellow as ever stepped, who in a sea-fight received a severe wound in the shoulder, which opened his axillary artery. He lost a large quantity of blood, but the wound was staunched for the moment, and he was taken below. As he was an officer, the surgeon, who saw he was wounded severely, was about to attend to him, before a seaman who had been just brought down. But the officer, though evidently in great pain said: ‘Attend to that man, sir, if you please, I can wait.’ Well, his turn came; the surgeon made up his mind that a large artery had been wounded; but as there was no bleeding, dressed the wound, and went on with his business. The officer lay very faint and exhausted for some time, and at length began to rally again, when the bleeding returned; the surgeon was immediately called, and not knowing where to find the artery, or what else to do, told the officer he must amputate his arm at the shoulder-joint. The officer at once calmly submitted to the additional but unnecessary suffering; and as the operator proceeded, asked if it would be long; the surgeon replied that it would be soon over; the officer rejoined: ‘Sir, I thank God for it!’ but he never spake more.”