Well, the points here, as in all other cases, are the advantages offered, and the price paid—the maximum and minimum respectively. Here we arrive at the elements of numerous evils. Students are not always—and before they try, hardly ever—judges of a school. The general reputation of a man (as he is never subjected to open competition) is no test whatever of his comparative power in _teaching_ students; but they are accustomed to ascribe great importance to operations; and, _cæteris paribus_, they incline to prefer that hospital where the greatest number are supposed to be performed. This arises from various causes; in some of which the public play no unimportant part. The student has perhaps seen, in the country, a good deal of medical and surgical practice; but very few operations. His stay in London is comparatively short, averaging, perhaps, not more than the better part of two years. Unnecessary length of time is generally inconvenient, always expensive, and the student is naturally anxious to see _most_ of that which he will have _least_ opportunity of observing elsewhere. Moreover, he knows that when he returns to the country he may save twenty limbs, before he obtains the same amount of _reputation_ that he may possibly get by _one amputation_—the ignorance of the public, here, not appreciating results which very probably involved the exercise of the highest talent, whilst they are ready to confer a very profitable distinction on that which does not necessarily involve any talent at all. We have no wish whatever, and certainly there is no necessity, for straining any point in reference to this very serious matter; but these two facts are indisputable—that the surgeons obtain their remuneration from the hospitals by the fees they obtain from the pupils; and, _cæteris paribus_, the pupils will flock the thickest where they expect to see most operations. The next thing that we would submit, is that the _prestige_ in favour of operations is both directly and indirectly opposed to the progress of scientific surgery. Almost all operations, commonly so termed, are examples of defective science. To practical common sense, therefore, it would appear a very infelicitous mode of obtaining the maximum of a man's genius in aid of the _diminution_ of operations, to open to him a prospect of enriching himself by the _multiplication_ of them. We desire to consider the subject with reference to its scientific bearings only, and would avoid entirely, were that possible, any appeal merely to the feelings. Such impulses, however right, are apt to be paroxysmal and uncertain, unless supported by the intellect. But, on such a subject, the feelings must necessarily become more or less interested. Wherever a system takes a wrong direction, a great many minor evils insensibly grow out of it.