Bruno begins his work by a definition of surgery, _chirurgia_, tracing it to the Greek and emphasizing that it means handwork. He then declares that it is the last instrument of medicine to be used, only when the other two instruments, diet and potions, have failed. He insists that surgeons must learn by seeing surgical operations, and watching them long and diligently. They must be neither rash nor over-bold, and should be extremely cautious about operating. While he says that he does not object to a surgeon taking a glass of wine, the followers of this specialty must not drink to such an extent as to disturb their command over themselves, and they must not be habitual drinkers. While all that is necessary for their art cannot be learned out of books, they must not despise books, however, for many things can be learned readily from books, even about the most difficult parts of surgery. Three things the surgeon has to do--"to bring together separated parts, to separate those that have become abnormally united, and to extirpate what is superfluous." While the old textbooks had emphasized the necessity for not allowing the circulation in the head to be disturbed by the cold, and insisted on the taking of special precautions in this matter, Bruno insists that wounds must be more carefully looked to in summer than in winter, because "putrefaction is greater in warm than in cold weather"--_putrefactio est major in æstate quam in hyeme_. He is particularly insistent on the necessity of drainage. In wounds of the extremities the limb must always be so placed as to encourage drainage. To secure it the wound may be enlarged; if necessary, even a counter-opening must be made to provide drainage. In order to secure proper union care must be exercised to bring the wound edges accurately together, and not allow hair or oil or dressings to come between them. In large wounds he considers stitching indispensable, and the preferable suture material in his experience is silk or linen. He discusses healing by first and second intention, and declares that with proper care the healing of a great many wounds by first intention can be secured. All his treatment of wounds is dry. Water he considered always did harm, and it is quite easy to understand that his experience taught him this, for the water generally available for surgeons in camps and battlefields and in emergency surgery was likely to do much more harm than good. Some of the details of his technique of abdominal wounds will be particularly interesting to modern surgeons.