of the week I went again to the house, and Mr. Hutton arrived shortly afterwards. “How’s the knee?” was his inquiry. “It feels easier.” “Been able to move it?” “No.” “Give it to me.” The leg was stretched out, and Mr. Hutton stood in front of the patient, who hesitated, and lowered his limb. “You are quite sure it is out, and you can put it right?” There was a pause, and then: “Give me your leg, I say.” The patient obeyed reluctantly, and slowly raised it to within Mr. Hutton’s reach. He grasped it with both hands, round the calf, with the extended thumb of the left hand pressing on the painful spot on the inner side of the knee, and held the foot firmly by grasping the heel between his own knees. The patient was told to sit steadily in his chair, and at that moment I think he would have given a good deal to have regained control over his limb. Mr. Hutton inclined his knees towards his right, thus aiding in the movement of rotation which he impressed upon the leg with his hands. He maintained firm pressure with his thumb on the painful spot, and suddenly flexed the knee. The patient cried out with pain. Mr. Hutton lowered the limb, and told him to stand up. He did so, and at once declared he could move the leg better, and that the previously painful spot was free from pain. He was ordered to take gentle daily exercise, and his recovery was rapid and complete. In a few days he returned to business, and from that time until his death, which occurred three years afterwards, his knee remained perfectly well.” Another case was that of the Honourable Spencer Ponsonby, who is suffered to tell his own story. “On November 26th, 1864, in running across the garden at Croxteth, near Liverpool, I felt and heard something crack in the calf of my left leg. It was so painful that I rolled over like a shot rabbit, and could scarcely reach the house, a few yards off. I at once put my leg up to the knee in a pail of hot water, and boiled it for an hour. Next day, being no better, I sent for a medical man in the neighbourhood, who told me I had snapped a muscle, and must keep quiet for a few days. He rubbed in a strong liniment, there being no sign of inflammation; and put on a strong leather plaster. In a couple of days I was able to hobble; but being telegraphed to London, and going into an empty house, I knocked my toe against a tack in the floor, and hurt myself worse than ever. From this time (December 2nd) to the beginning of May, I was attended by Mr. A—— and Mr. B—— in consultation, who agreed in saying that the “stocking of the calf was split” (gastrocnemius, I think they called it) and treated me accordingly. Occasionally my leg got better; but the slightest exertion produced pain and weakness.