The treatment which one poor fellow received from Abernethy may at first sight seem to militate against our high estimate of the surgeon's humanity, and dislike of inflicting physical pain. Dr. ----, an eminent physician still living and conferring lustre on his profession, sent a favourite man-servant with a brief note, running--"Dear Abernethy, Will you do me the kindness to put a seton in this poor fellow's neck? Yours sincerely, ----." The man, who was accustomed and encouraged to indulge in considerable freedom of speech with his master's friends, not only delivered the note to Abernethy, but added, in an explanatory and confiding tone, "You see, sir, I don't get better, and as master thinks I ought to have a seton in my neck, I should be thankful if you'd put it in for me." It is not at all improbable that Abernethy resented the directions of master and man. Anyhow he inquired into the invalid's case, and then taking out his needles did as he was requested. The operation was attended with a little pain, and the man howled, as only a coward can howl, under the temporary inconvenience. "Oh! Lor' bless you! Oh, have mercy on me! Yarra--yarra--yarr! Oh, doctor--doctor--you'll kill me!" In another minute the surgeon's work was accomplished, and the acute pain having passed away, the man recovered his self-possession and impudence. "Oh, well, sir, I do hope, now that it's done, it'll do me good. I do hope that." "But it won't do you a bit of good." "What, sir, no good?" cried the fellow. "No more good," replied Abernethy, "than if I had spat upon it." "Then, sir--why--oh, yarr! here's the pain again--why did you do it?" "Confound you, man!" answered the surgeon testily. "Why did I do it?--why, _didn't you ask me to put a seton in your neck_?" Of course the surgical treatment employed by Abernethy in this case was the right one; but he was so nettled with the fellow's impudence and unmanly lamentations, that he could not forbear playing off upon him a barbarous jest. If for this outbreak of vindictive humour the reader is inclined to call Abernethy a savage, let his gift of £50 to the widow lady, to pay for her sick child's carriage exercise, be remembered. _Apropos_ of £50, Dr. Wilson of Bath sent a present of that sum to an indigent clergyman, against whom he had come in the course of practice. The gentleman who had engaged to convey the gift to the unfortunate priest said, "Well, then, I'll take the money to him to-morrow." "Oh, my dear sir," said the doctor, "take it to him to-night. Only think of the importance to a sick man of one good night's rest!"