Mr. Parker, surgeon to the Queen’s Hospital, had some difficulty in believing that it was not an ideal being that was spoken of; but when he found I was really and truly a living woman he sent me an invitation to witness the amputation he was going to perform, and promised to show me all the arrangements of the institution, sending also a note of admission to the college and museum. Dr. Evans, a distinguished physician, invited me to the General Hospital, the largest and oldest one, and expressed much sympathy in my undertaking. Dr. McKay, of the Lying-in Hospital, thought that God and Nature had indicated the unfitness of women for such a pursuit as I had chosen, but still said he would be very happy to show the lady all he could. All the students were on the _qui vive_ to see the lady surgeon, and as we approached the building I saw them peeping through doors and windows. Mr. Parker, a fat, rosy-faced John Bull, received me very politely, introduced me to some M.D.’s who had come to see the sight, showed me the arrangements of the hospital, which is young and not particularly interesting, and then took me to the operating-room. It was crammed with students, and as fresh ones arrived they would peep about, whisper to their neighbours, and then work their way to a place where they could see me. It was just a repetition of old scenes; a few minutes’ curiosity, and then all went on as usual. The students presented the same mixture of faces as our American ones, wore rather better coats, and seemed to be quicker in their movements. I noted nothing peculiar in the operation, which was skilfully performed, without chloroform, which Mr. Parker disliked. Before leaving, he offered me a letter to the famous Roux of Paris.