"Dr. Dixi Crosby, for thirty-two years professor of Surgery in Dartmouth College, died at his residence in Hanover, N. H., September 26, 1873. Dr. Crosby was born February 7, 1800, at Sandwich, N. H., of pure New England stock,—strong in the best Puritan element, where self-reliance, love of justice, and unbending will, formed the basis of character and the mainspring of action. His father's father was a captain in the Revolutionary army, and served with two of his sons at the battle of Bunker Hill. His maternal grandfather (Hoit) was one of Washington's body-guard, and later in life a judge of some distinction. His father, Dr. Asa Crosby, who married Betsey Hoit, was a surgeon of eminence in eastern New Hampshire. At the age of twenty, he entered upon the study of Medicine in the office of his father.

"The practice of a country doctor in New Hampshire of course embraced every department and variety of professional work. But Surgery offered to young Crosby a special charm, and the ardor with which he threw himself into this branch of the profession showed early fruits. From the day when he commenced his Anatomy, his practice and his study went hand in hand. Fearless and original, ready in expedients and ingenious in their use, he observed, he resolved, and he acted.

"In the first year of his study he accompanied his father to a consultation in the case of a man whose leg had been frozen, and whose condition was most critical. It was agreed by the older physicians that amputation at an earlier stage might have saved the patient's life, but that it was now too late to attempt it. Young Crosby urged that the operation be performed, but the elders shook their heads. He even proposed to attempt it himself; but this was received with a storm of disapproval, in which even his father joined, and the thing was pronounced impossible. The doctors then departed, leaving the student to watch with the patient during the few hours which apparently remained of life. During the night young Crosby succeeded in reviving the courage of the man to make a last effort for life. The limb was removed, and the man recovered.

"His second year of study developed still further the growing resources of the young surgeon. Upon one occasion both father and son, while visiting a patient at night, in a distant village, were suddenly called to a case of extensive laceration of the leg, with profuse hemorrhage. The case was urgent, and the patient was sinking. No instruments were at hand. He called for a carving-knife, which he sharpened on a grindstone and finished on a razor-strap, filed a hand-saw, amputated the limb, dressed the stump, left the patient in safety, and drove home with his father to breakfast. The man recovered.

"Before a nature so fearless, and so fertile in expedients, obstacles speedily vanish, and young Crosby found himself in possession of a large and responsible practice, even before taking his medical degree, and at the early age of twenty-three years. The following year (1824) he graduated in Medicine at Dartmouth (having passed his examination in November preceding), and for ten years remained in Gilmanton, in practice with his father. He then removed to Meredith Bridge, now Laconia, N. H., where he practiced for three years; and in 1838 was called to the chair of Surgery in Dartmouth College, then recently made vacant by the resignation of the late Dr. Mussey. In this field Dr. Crosby found at once full exercise for all his large resources of head and heart and hand. As an instructor he was clear, direct, and definite,—imparting, to his pupils his own zeal, and teaching them his own self-reliance. 'Depend upon yourselves, young gentlemen,' he invariably said. 'Take no man's diagnosis, but see with your own eyes, feel with your own fingers, judge with your own judgment, and be the disciple of no man.'

"In his class, he was courteous without familiarity, patient with dulness, but quick to punish impertinence; always kind, always dignified, always genial. The practical view of a subject was the view which he delighted to take; and the dry humor with which he never failed to emphasize his point, at once fixed it in the memory of the class, and made it available for future use. With his office-students, Dr. Crosby was the very soul of geniality and confidence. He saw and measured men at a glance, and was rarely wrong in his estimate of character. Strong in his own convictions, he was yet tender of the infirmities and the prejudices of others, and his generous instincts lost no opportunity for their daily exercise.

"His love of nature was as instinctive and as thorough as his knowledge of men. He transferred the treasures of the woods to his own garden. He studied the habits of birds and insects, and his parlors were adorned with a cabinet of American birds more complete than is often found in the museum of a professed naturalist. He reveled in the 'pomp of groves and garniture of fields,' and his daily drives through the picturesque scenery of the Connecticut valley fed his æsthetic taste, and proved a compensation for fatigue.

"Dr. Crosby, though a surgeon by nature and by preference, was in no modern sense a specialist. His professional labors covered the whole range of Medicine. His professorship included Obstetrics as well as Surgery, and his practice in this department was exceptionally large. His surgical diocese extended from Lake Champlain to Boston. Distance seemed no bar to his influence, and his professional journeys were often made by night as well as by day. Of the special operations of Dr. Crosby we do not propose here to speak in detail. It is sufficient to mention that, in 1824, he devised a new and ingenious mode of reducing metacarpo-phalangeal dislocation. In 1836 he removed the arm, scapula, and three quarters of the clavicle at a single operation, for the first time in the history of Surgery. He was the first to open abscess of the hip-joint. He performed his operations, without ever having seen them performed, almost without exception. Dr. Crosby was not what may be called a rapid operator. 'An operation, gentlemen,' he often said to his clinical students, 'is soon enough done when it is well enough done.' And, with him, it was never done otherwise than well.

"At the outbreak of the rebellion, Dr. Crosby served in the provost-marshal's office at a great sacrifice for many months, attending to his practice chiefly at night. As years and honors accumulated, Dr. Crosby still continued his work, though his constitutional vigor was impaired by the severity of the New Hampshire winters, and by his unremitting labor. At length, having reached man's limit of three-score years and ten, he withdrew from active practice, and in 1870 resigned his chair in the college, to which his son succeeded. From that time it was plain that Dr. Crosby's life-work was nearly done. In his well-ordered and delightful home he found that rest to which his long service in behalf of humanity entitled him. His end was perfect dignity and perfect peace.

"To those of us who had been most intimately associated with our departed friend, who had enjoyed his teachings, his counsels, and his generous kindness, the news of his death came as a heavy shock. But he still lives in the remembrance of his distinguished services, in the unfading affection and gratitude of his pupils, and in the many hearts whose burdens he has lifted. Verily, 'Extinctus amabitur idem!'"