Unimaginable pain and repeatedly begged Cooper to stop and let his stone `keep in’. Cooper persisted, however, and after nearly an hour he finally managed to extract it. With Pollard still bound to the table, Cooper proceeded to address his audience, declaring, once more, that he could not `conceive of the difficulty’. Finally the `exhausted’ Pollard was put to bed and though he initially `rallied’, `death ended the poor fellow’s sufferings, about 29 hours after the operation’.68 The publication of the report and its subsequent notice in The Times caused an immediate sensation, with one anonymous correspondent chastising the paper, in terms redolent of the law of sedition, for its `dissemination of one of the most dangerous libels by which the repose, not only of an individual, but of society at large was ever attempted to be disturbed’.69 This was followed by another letter from 178 `Students of the Borough Hospitals’ calling for an `unequivocal contradiction’ of the `defamatory calumnies’ contained in The Lancet’s account and defending Cooper’s `qualifications as a teacher . . . his superior skill as an operating surgeon, and . . . his worth and integrity as a man’.70 Wakley was unmoved. It should come as no surprise, he suggested, that these students held their teacher in high regard, for of `Mr Bransby Cooper’s amenity of manners, and kindness of disposition we entertain no doubt’. The real issue was not Cooper’s private character, it was whether he performed the late operation with that degree of skill, which the SCIO-469 msds public has a right to expect from a surgeon of Guy’s TGR-1202 web Hospital . . . whether the unfortunate patient lost his life . . . because it was the turn of a surgeon to operate, who is indebted for his elevation to the influence of a corrupt system, and who . . . would never have been placed in a situation of such deep responsibility as that which he now occupies, had he not been the nephew of Sir Astley Cooper. This is . . . the only question, in which the public is interested.71 In this manner, Wakley reconfigured the report as a function of systemic critique rather than personal defamation. Although the word libel had been bandied around, there was as yet no clear indication that Cooper would seek legal redress.72 Even so, Wakley positively invited the prospect. `Whether this investigation be of a judicial character or not, we are indifferent,’ he claimed, with feigned insouciance. What was unquestionable was that there would be an investigation, not into Wakley’s actions or the harm that had been done to Cooper’s reputation, but rather into what `MR HARRISON, the treasurer of Guy’s Hospital, knows . . . [are] the extraordinary circumstances attending his elevation to his present situation’.73 Like Wooler, Hone and others before him, Wakley was preparing to turn the situation to his advantage, to transform the courtroom into an arena for the articulation of radical discourse. Defying his legally allotted role as defendant by electing to act as his own counsel, it was a drama in which he would take centre stage.ibid., 959 ?0. Times, 31 March 1828, 2, col. F. 70ibid., 2 April 1828, 4, col. C. 71 The Lancet, 10:240 (5 April 1828), 20 ?. 72On the very same day that Wakley’s editorial was published, a letter from Bransby Cooper69Theappeared in the London Medical Gazette announcing his intention to take legal action. See London Medical Gazette, 1:18 (5 April 1828), 542. 73The Lancet, 10:240 (5 April 1828), 22.MayThe Lancet, libel and.Unimaginable pain and repeatedly begged Cooper to stop and let his stone `keep in’. Cooper persisted, however, and after nearly an hour he finally managed to extract it. With Pollard still bound to the table, Cooper proceeded to address his audience, declaring, once more, that he could not `conceive of the difficulty’. Finally the `exhausted’ Pollard was put to bed and though he initially `rallied’, `death ended the poor fellow’s sufferings, about 29 hours after the operation’.68 The publication of the report and its subsequent notice in The Times caused an immediate sensation, with one anonymous correspondent chastising the paper, in terms redolent of the law of sedition, for its `dissemination of one of the most dangerous libels by which the repose, not only of an individual, but of society at large was ever attempted to be disturbed’.69 This was followed by another letter from 178 `Students of the Borough Hospitals’ calling for an `unequivocal contradiction’ of the `defamatory calumnies’ contained in The Lancet’s account and defending Cooper’s `qualifications as a teacher . . . his superior skill as an operating surgeon, and . . . his worth and integrity as a man’.70 Wakley was unmoved. It should come as no surprise, he suggested, that these students held their teacher in high regard, for of `Mr Bransby Cooper’s amenity of manners, and kindness of disposition we entertain no doubt’. The real issue was not Cooper’s private character, it was whether he performed the late operation with that degree of skill, which the public has a right to expect from a surgeon of Guy’s Hospital . . . whether the unfortunate patient lost his life . . . because it was the turn of a surgeon to operate, who is indebted for his elevation to the influence of a corrupt system, and who . . . would never have been placed in a situation of such deep responsibility as that which he now occupies, had he not been the nephew of Sir Astley Cooper. This is . . . the only question, in which the public is interested.71 In this manner, Wakley reconfigured the report as a function of systemic critique rather than personal defamation. Although the word libel had been bandied around, there was as yet no clear indication that Cooper would seek legal redress.72 Even so, Wakley positively invited the prospect. `Whether this investigation be of a judicial character or not, we are indifferent,’ he claimed, with feigned insouciance. What was unquestionable was that there would be an investigation, not into Wakley’s actions or the harm that had been done to Cooper’s reputation, but rather into what `MR HARRISON, the treasurer of Guy’s Hospital, knows . . . [are] the extraordinary circumstances attending his elevation to his present situation’.73 Like Wooler, Hone and others before him, Wakley was preparing to turn the situation to his advantage, to transform the courtroom into an arena for the articulation of radical discourse. Defying his legally allotted role as defendant by electing to act as his own counsel, it was a drama in which he would take centre stage.ibid., 959 ?0. Times, 31 March 1828, 2, col. F. 70ibid., 2 April 1828, 4, col. C. 71 The Lancet, 10:240 (5 April 1828), 20 ?. 72On the very same day that Wakley’s editorial was published, a letter from Bransby Cooper69Theappeared in the London Medical Gazette announcing his intention to take legal action. See London Medical Gazette, 1:18 (5 April 1828), 542. 73The Lancet, 10:240 (5 April 1828), 22.MayThe Lancet, libel and.
