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7
Detailed Contents

8
9
Detailed Contents
Preface
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1.Chapter 1. A Nerdly Manifesto
The Variables Lead the Way
Ordinality
Equal Intervals
True Zero Point
Different Classifications of Measurement
Ratio Measurement
Interval Measurement
Ordinal Measurement
Nominal Measurement
It’s All About Relationships!
A Brief Review of Basic Algebra and Linear Equations
The GLM in One Paragraph
A Brief Consideration of Prediction Versus Explanation in
Linear Modeling
A Brief Primer on Null Hypothesis Statistical Testing
A Trivial and Silly Example of Hypothesis Testing
A Tale of Two Errors
What Conclusions Can We Draw Based on NHST
Results?
So What Does Failure to Reject the Null Hypothesis
Mean?
Moving Beyond NHST
Other Pieces of Information Necessary to Draw
Proper Conclusions
The Importance of Replication and Generalizability
Where We Go From Here
Enrichment
References
Chapter 2.Chapter 2. Basic Estimation and Assumptions
Estimation and the GLM
What Is OLS Estimation?
ML Estimation—A Gentle but Deeper Look
Assumptions for OLS and ML Estimation

10
 Model
Variables
Residuals and Distributions
Simple Univariate Data Cleaning and Data
Transformations
Data Screening
Missing Data
Transformation of Data
University Size and Faculty Salary in the United
States
What If We Cannot Meet the Assumptions?
Where We Go From Here
Enrichment
References
Chapter 3.Chapter 3. Simple Linear Models With Continuous
Dependent Variables: Simple Regression Analyses
Advance Organizer
It’s All About Relationships!
Basics of the Pearson Product-Moment Correlation
Coefficient
Calculating r
Effect Sizes and r
A Real Data Example
The Basics of Simple Regression
Basic Calculations for Simple Regression
Standardized Versus Unstandardized Regression
Coefficients
Hypothesis Testing in Simple Regression
A Real Data Example
The Assumption That the Model Is Correctly
Specified
Assumptions About the Variables
Assumptions About Residuals
Summary of Results
Does Centering or z-Scoring Make a Difference?
Some Simple Multivariate Data Cleaning
What Is a Bivariate Outlier?
Standardized Residuals
Studentized Residuals

11
 Global Measures of Influence: DfFit or Cook’s
Distance (Cook’s D)
Specific Measures of Influence: DfBetas
Summary
Enrichment
References
Chapter 4.Chapter 4. Simple Linear Models With Continuous
Dependent Variables: Simple ANOVA Analyses
Advance Organizer
It’s All About Relationships! (Part 2)
Analyzing These Data via t-Test
Analyzing These Data via ANOVA
ANOVA Within an OLS Regression Framework
When Your IV Has More Than Two Groups: Dummy
Coding Your Unordered Polytomous Variable
Define the Reference Group
Set Up the Dummy-Coded Variables
Evaluating the Effects of the Categorical Variable in
the Regression Model
Smoking and Diabetes Analyzed via ANOVA
Smoking and Diabetes Analyzed via Regression
What If the Dummy Variables Are Coded Differently?
Unweighted Effects Coding
Weighted Effects Coding
Common Alternatives to Dummy or Effects Coding
Simple Contrasts
Difference (Reverse Helmert) Contrasts
Helmert Contrasts
Repeated Contrasts
Summary
Enrichment
References
Chapter 5.Chapter 5. Simple Linear Models With Categorical
Dependent Variables: Binary Logistic Regression
Advance Organizer
It’s All About Relationships! (Part 3)
Why Is Logistic Regression Necessary?
The Linear Probability Model
How Logistic Regression Solves This Issue: The Logit
Link Function

12
 A Brief Digression Into Probabilities, Conditional
Probabilities, and Odds
Simple Logistic Regression Using Statistical Software
Indicators of Overall Model Fit
What Is a −2 Log Likelihood?
The Logistic Regression Equation
Interpreting the Constant
What If You Want CIs for the Constant?
Summary So Far
Logistic Regression With a Continuous IV
Some Best Practices When Using a Continuous Variable
in Logistic Regression
Testing Assumptions and Data Cleaning in Logistic
Regression
Deviance Residuals
DfBetas
Hosmer and Lemeshow Test for Model Fit
How Should We Interpret Odds Ratios That Are
Less Than 1.0?
Summary
Enrichment
Appendix 5A: A Brief Primer on Probit Regression
What Is a Probit?
The Probit Link
A Real-Data Example of Probit Regression
Why Are There Two Different Procedures If They
Produce the Same Results?
Some Nice Features of Probit
Assumptions of Probit Regression
Summary and Conclusion
References
Chapter 6.Chapter 6. Simple Linear Models With Polytomous
Categorical Dependent Variables: Multinomial and Ordinal
Logistic Regression
Advance Organizer
Understanding Marijuana Use
Dummy-Coded DVs and Our Hypotheses to Be Tested
Basics and Calculations
Multinomial Logistic Regression (Unordered) With
Statistical Software

13
 Multinomial Logistic Regression With a Continuous
Predictor
Multinomial Logistic Regression as a Series of Binary
Logistic Regressions
Data Cleaning and Multinomial Logistic Regression
Testing Whether Groups Can Be Combined
Ordered Logit (Proportional Odds) Model
Assumptions of the Ordinal Logistic Model
Interpreting the Results of the Ordinal Regression
Interpreting the Intercepts/Thresholds
Interpreting the Parameter Estimates
Data Cleaning and More Advanced Models in Ordinal
Logistic Regression
The Measured Variable is Continous, Why Not Just Use
OLS Regression for This Type of Analysis?
A Brief Note on Log-Linear Analyses
Summary and Conclusions
Enrichment
References
Chapter 7.Chapter 7. Simple Curvilinear Models
Advance Organizer
Zeno’s Paradox, a Nerdy Science Joke, and Inherent
Curvilinearity in the Universe . . .
A Brief Review of Simple Algebra
Hypotheses to Be Tested
Illegitimate Causes of Curvilinearity
Model Misspecification: Omission of Important
Variables
Poor Data Cleaning
Detection of Nonlinear Effects
Theory
Ad Hoc Testing
Box-Tidwell Transformations
Basic Principles of Curvilinear Regression
Occam’s Razor
Ordered Entry of Variables
Each Effect Is One Part of the Entire Effect
Centering
Curvilinear OLS Regression Example: Size of the
University and Faculty Salary

14
 Data Cleaning
Interpreting Curvilinear Effects Effectively
Reality Testing This Effect
Summary of Curvilinear Effects in OLS Regression
Curvilinear Logistic Regression Example: Diabetes and
Age
Curvilinear Effects in Multinomial Logistic Regression
Replication Becomes Important
More Fun With Curves: Estimating Minima and Maxima
as Well as Slope at Any Point on the Curve
Summary
Enrichment
References
Chapter 8.Chapter 8. Multiple Independent Variables
Advance Organizer
The Basics of Multiple Predictors
What Are the Implications of This Act?
Hypotheses to Be Tested in Multiple Regression
Assumptions of Multiple Regression and Data Cleaning
Predicting Student Achievement From Real Data
Where Is the Missing Variance?
Testing Assumptions and Data Cleaning in the NELS88
Data
What Does the Intercept Mean When There Are
Multiple IVs?
Methods of Entering Variables
User-Controlled Methods of Entry
Hierarchical Entry
Blockwise Entry
Software-Controlled Entry
Using Multiple Regression for Theory Testing
What Is the Meaning of This Intercept?
Logistic Regression With Multiple IVs
Assessing the Overall Logistic Regression Model: Why
There Is No R2 for Logistic Regression
Summary and Conclusions
Enrichment
References
Chapter 9.Chapter 9. Interactions Between Independent
Variables: Simple Moderation

15
 Advance Organizer
What Is an Interaction?
Procedural and Conceptual Issues in Testing for
Interactions Between Continuous Variables
Procedural and Conceptual Issues in Testing for
Interactions Containing Categorical Variables
Hypotheses to Be Tested in Multiple Regression With
Interactions Present
An OLS Regression Example: Predicting Student
Achievement From Real Data
Interpreting the Results From a Significant Interaction
Graphing Interaction Effects
Staying Out of Trouble on the X Axis
Staying Out of Trouble on the Y Axis
Procedural Issues With Graphing
An Interaction Between a Continuous and a Categorical
Variable in OLS Regression
Interactions With Logistic Regression
Example Summary of Interaction Analysis
Interactions and Multinomial Logistic Regression
Data Cleaning
Calculation of Overall Model Statistics
Example Summary of Findings
Can These Effects Replicate?
Post Hoc Probing of Interactions
Regions of Significance
Using Statistical Software to Produce Simple Slopes
Analyses
Summary
Enrichment
References
Chapter 10.Chapter 10. Curvilinear Interactions Between
Independent Variables
Advance Organizer
What Is a Curvilinear Interaction?
A Quadratic Interaction Between X and Z
A Cubic Interaction Between X and Z
A Real-Data Example and Exploration of Procedural
Details
Step 1. Create the Terms Prior to Analysis

16
 Step 2. Build Your Equation Slowly
Step 3. Clean the Data Thoughtfully to Ensure You
Are Not Missing an Interesting Effect
Step 4. After Influential Cases Are Removed,
Perform the Analysis Again
Step 5. Provide Your Audience With a Graphical
Representation of These Complex Results
Step 6. Summarize the Results Coherently Using
the Graphs as Guides
Summary
Curvilinear Interactions Between Continuous and
Categorical Variables
Summary
Curvilinear Interactions With Categorical DVs
(Multinomial Logistic)
Curvilinear Interaction Effects in Ordinal Regression
Summary
Chapter Summary
Enrichment
References
Chapter 11.Chapter 11. Poisson Models: Low-Frequency
Count Data as Dependent Variables
Advance Organizer
The Basics and Assumptions of Poisson Regression
Curvilinearity in Poisson Models
The Nature of the Variables
Issues With Zeros
Issues With Variance
Why Can’t We Just Analyze Count Data via OLS,
Multinomial, or Ordinal Regression?
Multinomial or Ordinal Regression
Hypotheses Tested in Poisson Regression
Model Fit
Poisson Regression With Real Data
Interactions in Poisson Regression
Data Cleaning in Poisson Regression
Refining the Model by Eliminating Excess (Inappropriate)
Zeros
A Refined Analysis With Excess Zeros Removed
Curvilinear Effects in Poisson Regression

17
 Dealing With Overdispersion or Underdispersion
Effects of Adjusting the Scale Parameter
Negative Binomial Model
Summary and Conclusions
Enrichment
References
Chapter 12.Chapter 12. Log-Linear Models: General Linear
Models When All of Your Variables Are Unordered
Categorical
Advance Organizer
The Basics of Log-Linear Analysis
What Is Different About Log-Linear Analysis?
Hypotheses Being Tested
Individual Parameter Estimates
Assumptions of Log-Linear Models
A Slightly More Complex Log-Linear Model
Can We Replicate These Results in Logistic Regression?
Data Cleaning in Log-Linear Models
Summary and Conclusions
Enrichment
References
Chapter 13.Chapter 13. A Brief Introduction to Hierarchical
Linear Modeling
Advance Organizer
Why HLM Models Are Necessary
What Is a Hierarchical Data Structure?
Why Is Hierarchical or Nested Data an Issue?
The Problem of Independence of Observations
The Problem of How to Deal With Multilevel Data
How Do Hierarchical Models Work? A Brief Primer
Generalizing the Basic HLM Model
Example 1. Modeling a Continuous DV in HLM
Example 2. Modeling Binary Outcomes in HLM
Residuals in HLM
Results of DROPOUT Analysis in HLM
Cross-Level Interactions in HLM Logistic Regression
So What Would Have Happened if These Data Had
Been Analyzed via Simple Logistic Regression
Without Accounting for the Nested Data Structure?
Summary and Conclusions

18
 Enrichment
References
Chapter 14.Chapter 14. Missing Data in Linear Modeling
Advance Organizer
Not All Missing Data Are the Same
Utility of Legitimately Missing Data for Data
Checking
Categories of Missingness: Why Do We Care if Data Are
MCAR or Not?
How Do You Know if Your Data Are MCAR, MAR, or
MNAR?
What Do We Do With Randomly Missing Data?
Data MCAR
Mean Substitution
Strong and Weak Regression Imputation
Multiple Imputation (Bayesian)
Summary
Data MNAR
Example 1. Nonrandom Missingness Reverses the
Effect
Example 2. Nonrandom Missingness Dramatically
Inflates the Effect
Summary
How Missingness Can Be an Interesting Variable in and
of Itself
Summing Up: Benefits of Appropriately Handling Missing
Data
Enrichment
References
Chapter 15.Chapter 15. Trustworthy Science: Improving
Statistical Reporting
Advance Organizer
What Is Power, and Why Is It Important?
Correctly Rejecting a Null Hypothesis
Informing Null Results
Is Power an Ethical Issue?
Power in Linear Models
OLS Regression With Multiple Predictors
Binary Logistic Regression
Summary of Points Thus Far

19
 Who Cares as Long as p < .05? Volatility in Linear
Models
Small Samples Versus Large Samples
A Brief Introduction to Bootstrap Resampling
Principle 1. Results From Larger Samples Will Be
Less Volatile Than Results From Smaller Samples
Principle 2. Effect Sizes Should Not Affect the
Replicability of the Results
Principle 3. Complex Effects Are Less Likely to
Replicate Than Simple Effects, Particularly in
Smaller Samples
Summary and Conclusions
Enrichment
References
Chapter 16.Chapter 16. Reliable Measurement Matters
Advance Organizer
A More Modern View of Reliability
What Is Cronbach’s Alpha (and What Is It Not)?
Alpha and the Kuder-Richardson Coefficient of
Equivalence
The Correct Interpretation of Alpha
What Alpha Is Not
Factors That Influence Alpha
Length of the Scale
Average Inter-Item Correlation
Reverse-Coded Items (Negative Item-Total
Correlations)
Random Responding or Response Sets
Multidimensionality
Outliers
Other Assumptions of Alpha
What Is “Good Enough” for Alpha?
Reliability and Simple Correlation or Regression
Reliability and Multiple IVs
Reliability and Interactions in Multiple Regression
Protecting Against Overcorrecting During Disattenuation
Other (Better) Solutions to the Issue of Measurement
Error
Does Reliability Influence Other Analyses, Such as
Analysis of Variance?

20
Discovering Diverse Content Through
Random Scribd Documents
"Ah, Lady Emily, I saw your dear sister," he would say to a patient,
"yesterday—driving in the Park—lovely creature she is! Ah, poor thing!"
"Poor thing, Mr. Long!—why, Catherine is the picture of health!"
"Ah," the adroit fellow would answer, sadly, "you think so—so does she—
and so does every one besides myself who sees her; but—but—unless
prompt remedial measures are taken that dear girl, ere two short years
have flown, will be in her grave." This mournful prophecy would be
speedily conveyed to Catherine's ears; and, under the influence of that
nervous dread of death which almost invariably torments the youthful
and healthy, she would implore the great physician to save her from her
doom. It was not difficult to quiet her anxious heart. Attendance at 41,
Harley Street, for six weeks, during which time a sore was created on her
breast by the corrosive liniment, and cured by the application of cabbage-
leaves and nature's kindly processes, enabled her to go out once more
into the world, sounding her saviour's praises, and convinced that she
might all her life long expose herself to the most trying changes of
atmosphere, without incurring any risk of chest-affection.
But Mr. Long had not calculated that, although nine hundred and ninety-
nine constitutions out of every thousand would not be materially injured
by his treatment, he would at rare intervals meet with a patient of
delicate organization, on whom the application of his blistering fluid
would be followed by the most serious consequences. In the summer of
the year 1830, two young ladies, of a good Irish family, named Cashin,
came to London, and were inveigled into the wizard's net. They were
sisters; and the younger of them, being in delicate health, called on Mr.
Long, accompanied by her elder sister. The ordinary course of inhalation
and rubbing was prescribed for the invalid; and ere long, frightened by
the quack's prediction that, unless she was subjected to immediate
treatment, she would fall into a rapid consumption, the other young lady
submitted to have the corrosive lotion rubbed over her back and
shoulders. The operation was performed on the 3rd of August. Forthwith
a violent inflammation was established: the wound, instead of healing,
became daily and hourly of a darker and more unhealthy aspect; unable
to bear the cabbage-leaves on the raw and suppurating surface, the
sufferer induced her nurse to apply a comforting poultice to the part, but
no relief was obtained from it. St. John Long was sent for, and the 14th
(just eleven days after the exhibition of the corrosive liniment), he found
his victim in a condition of extreme exhaustion and pain, and suffering
from continued sickness. Taking these symptoms as a mere matter of
course, he ordered her a tumbler of mulled wine, and took his departure.
On the following day (Sunday, 15th) he called again, and offered to dress
the wound. But the poor girl, suddenly waking up to the peril of her
position, would not permit him to touch her, and, raising herself with an
effort in her bed, exclaimed—
"Indeed, Mr. Long, you shall not touch my back again—you very well
know that when I became your patient I was in perfect health, but now
you are killing me!" Without losing his self-command at this pathetic
appeal, he looked into her earnest eyes, and said, impressively—
"Whatever inconvenience you are now suffering, it will be of short
duration, for in two or three days you will be in better health than you
ever were in your life."
But his words did not restore her confidence. The next day (the 16th) Mr.,
now Sir Benjamin, Brodie was sent for, and found on the wretched girl's
back an inflamed surface about the size of a plate, having in the centre a
spot as large as the palm of his hand, which was in a state of
mortification. The time for rescue was past. Sir Benjamin prescribed a
saline draught to allay the sickness; and within twenty-four hours
Catherine Cashin, who a fortnight before had been in perfect health and
high spirits—an unusually lovely girl, in her 25th year—lay upon her bed
in the quiet of death.
An uproar immediately ensued; and there was an almost universal cry
from the intelligent people of the country, that the empiric should be
punished. A coroner's inquest was held; and, in spite of the efforts made
by the charlatan's fashionable adherents, a verdict was obtained from the
jury of man-slaughter against St. John Long. Every attempt was made by
a set of influential persons of high rank to prevent the law from taking its
ordinary course. The issue of the warrant for the apprehension of the
offender was most mysteriously and scandalously delayed: and had it not
been for the energy of Mr. Wakley, who, in a long and useful career of
public service, has earned for himself much undeserved obloquy, the
affair would, even after the verdict of the coroner's jury, have been
hushed up. Eventually, however, on Saturday, October 30, St. John Long
was placed in the dock of old Bailey, charged with the manslaughter of
Miss Cashin. Instead of deserting him in his hour of need, his admirers—
male and female—presented themselves at the Central Criminal Court, to
encourage him by their sympathy, and to give evidence in his favour. The
carriages of distinguished members of the nobility brought fair freights of
the first fashion of May-fair down to the gloomy court-house that adjoins
Newgate; and belles of the first fashion sat all through the day in the
stifling atmosphere of a crowded court, looking languishingly at their hero
in the dock, who, from behind his barrier of rue and fennel, distributed to
them smiles of grateful recognition. The Judge (Mr. Justice Park)
manifested throughout the trial a strong partisanship with the prisoner;
and the Marchioness of Ormond, who was accommodated with a seat on
the bench by his Lordship's side, conversed with him in whispers during
the proceedings. The summing up was strongly in favour of the accused;
but, in spite of the partial judge, and an array of fashionable witnesses in
favour of the prisoner, the jury returned a verdict of guilty.
As it was late on Saturday when the verdict was given, the judge
deferred passing sentence till the following Monday. At the opening of the
court on that day a yet greater crush of the beau monde was present;
and the judge, instead of awarding a term of imprisonment to the guilty
man, condemned him merely to pay a fine of £250, or to be imprisoned
till such fine was paid. Mr. St. John Long immediately took a roll of notes
from his pocket, paid the mulct, and leaving the court with his triumphant
friends, accepted a seat in Lord Sligo's curricle, and drove to the west
end of the town.
The scandalous sentence was a fit conclusion to the absurd scenes which
took place in the court of the Old Bailey, and at the coroner's inquest. At
one or the other of these inquiries the witnesses advanced thousands of
outrageous statements, of which the following may be taken as a fair
specimen:—
One young lady gave evidence that she had been cured of consumption
by Mr. Long's liniment; she knew she had been so cured, because she
had a very bad cough, and, after the rubbing in all the ointment, the
cough went away. An old gentleman testified that he had for years
suffered from attacks of the gout, at intervals of from one to three
months; he was convinced Mr. Long had cured him, because he had been
free from gout for five weeks. Another gentleman had been tortured with
headache; Mr. Long applied his lotion to it—the humour which caused his
headache came away in a clear limpid discharge. A third gentleman
affirmed that Mr. Long's liniment had reduced a dislocation of his child's
hip-joint. The Marchioness of Ormond, on oath, stated that she knew
that Miss Cashin's back was rubbed with the same fluid as she and her
daughters had used to wash their hands with; but she admitted that she
neither saw the back rubbed, nor saw the fluid with which it was rubbed
taken from the bottle. Sir Francis Burdett also bore testimony to the
harmlessness of Mr. Long's system of practice. Mr. Wakley, in the Lancet,
asserted that Sir Francis Burdett had called on Long to ask him if his
liniment would give the Marquis of Anglesea a leg, in the place of the one
he lost at Waterloo, if it were applied to the stump. Long gave an
encouraging answer; and the lotion was applied, with the result of
producing not an entire foot and leg—but a great toe!
Miss Cashin's death was quickly followed by another fatal case. A Mrs.
Lloyd died from the effects of the corrosive lotion; and again a coroner's
jury found St. John Long guilty of manslaughter, and again he was tried
at the Old Bailey—but this second trial terminated in his acquital.
It seems scarcely creditable, and yet it is true, that these exposures did
not have the effect of lessening his popularity. The respectable organs of
the Press—the Times, the Chronicle, the Herald, the John Bull, the
Lancet, the Examiner, the Spectator, the Standard, the Globe,
Blackwood, and Fraser, combined in doing their best to render him
contemptible in the eyes of his supporters. But all their efforts were in
vain. His old dupes remained staunch adherents to him, and every day
brought fresh converts to their body. With unabashed front he went
everywhere, proclaiming himself a martyr in the cause of humanity, and
comparing his evil treatment to the persecutions that Galileo, Harvey,
Jenner, and Hunter underwent at the hands of the prejudiced and
ignorant. Instead of uncomplainingly taking the lashes of satirical writers,
he first endeavored to bully them into silence, and swaggering into
newspaper and magazine offices asked astonished editors how they
dared to call him a quack. Finding, however, that this line of procedure
would not improve his position, he wrote his defence, and published it in
an octavo volume, together with numerous testimonials of his worth from
grateful patients, and also a letter of cordial support from Dr. Ramadge,
M.D., Oxon., a fellow of the College of Physicians. In a ridiculous and
ungrammatical epistle, defending this pernicious quack, who had been
convicted of manslaughter, Dr. Ramadge displayed not less anxiety to
blacken the reputation of his own profession, than he did to clear the
fame of the charlatan whom he designated "a guiltless and a cruelly
persecuted individual!!!" The book itself is one of the most interesting to
be found in quack literature. On the title-page is a motto from Pope—"No
man deserves a monument who could not be wrapped in a winding-sheet
of papers written against him"; and amongst pages of jargon about
humoral pathology, it contains confident predictions that if his victims had
continued in his system, they would have lived. The author accuses the
most eminent surgeons and physicians of his time of gross ignorance,
and of having conspired together to crush him, because they were
jealous of his success and envious of his income. He even suggests that
the same saline draught, prescribed by Sir Benjamin Brodie, killed Miss
Cashin. Amongst those whose testimonials appear in the body of the
work are the then Lord Ingestre (his enthusiastic supporter), Dr.
Macartney, the Marchioness of Ormond, Lady Harriet Kavanagh, the
Countess of Buckinghamshire, and the Marquis of Sligo. The Marchioness
of Ormond testifies how Mr. Long had miraculously cured her and her
daughter of "headaches," and her youngest children of "smart attacks of
feverish colds, one with inflammatory sore throat, the others with more
serious bad symptoms." The Countess of Buckinghamshire says she is
cured of "headache and lassitude"; and Lord Ingestre avows his belief
that Mr. Long's system is "preventive of disease," because he himself is
much less liable to catch cold than he was before trying it.
Numerous pamphlets also were written in defence of John St. John Long,
Esq., M.R.S.L., and M.R.A.S. An anonymous author (calling himself a
graduate of Trinity College, Cambridge, and Member of the Middle
Temple), in a tract dated 1831, does not hesitate to compare the object
of his eulogy with the author of Christianity. "But who can wonder at Mr
Long's persecutions? The brightest character that ever stept was
persecuted, even unto death! His cures were all perverted, but they were
not the less complete; they were miraculous, but they were not the less
certain!"
To the last St. John Long retained his practice; but death removed him
from the scene of his triumphs while he was still a young man. The very
malady, his control over which he had so loudly proclaimed, brought his
career—in which knavery or self-delusion, doubtless both, played a part—
to an end. He died of consumption, at the age of thirty-seven years. Even
in the grave his patients honoured him, for they erected an elegant and
costly monument to his memory, and adorned it with the following
inscription.
"It is the fate of most men
To have many enemies, and few friends.
This monumental pile
Is not intended to mark the career,
But to shew
How much its inhabitant was respected
By those who knew his worth,
And the benefits
Derived from his remedial discovery.
He is now at rest,
And far beyond the praises or censures
Of this world.
Stranger, as you respect the receptacle of the dead
(As one of the many who will rest here),
Read the name of
John Saint John Long
without comment."
Notwithstanding the exquisite drollery of this inscription, in speaking of a
plebeian quack-doctor (who, by the exercise of empiricism, raised himself
to the possession of £5000 per annum, and the intimate friendship of
numbers of the aristocracy) as the victim of "many enemies and few
friends," it cannot be said to be open to much censure. Indeed, St. John
Long's worshippers were for the most part of that social grade in which
bad taste is rare, though weakness of understanding possibly may not be
uncommon.
The sepulchre itself is a graceful structure, and occupies a prominent
position in the Kensal Green cemetery, by the side of the principal
carriage-way, leading from the entrance-gate to the chapel of the burial-
ground. Immediately opposite to it, on the other side of the gravel drive,
stands, not inappropriately, the flaunting sepulchre of Andrew Ducrow,
the horse-rider, "whose death," the inscription informs us, "deprived the
arts and sciences of an eminent professor and liberal patron." When any
cockney bard shall feel himself inspired to write an elegy on the west-end
grave-yard, he will not omit to compare John St. John Long's tomb with
that of "the liberal patron of the arts and sciences," and also with the
cumbrous heap of masonry which covers the ashes of Dr. Morrison,
hygeist, which learned word, being interpreted, means "the inventor of
Morrison's pills."
To give a finishing touch to the memoir of this celebrated charlatan, it
may be added that after his death his property became the subject of
tedious litigation; and amongst the claimants upon it was a woman
advanced in years, and of an address and style that proved her to belong
to a very humble state of life. This woman turned out to be St. John
Long's wife. He had married her when quite a lad, had found it
impossible to live with her, and consequently had induced her to consent
to an amicable separation. This discovery was a source of great surprise,
and also of enlightenment to the numerous high-born and richly-
endowed ladies who had made overtures of marriage to the idolized
quack, and, much to their surprise, had had their advances adroitly but
firmly declined.
There are yet to be found in English society, ladies—not silly, frivolous
women, but some of those on whom the world of intellect has put the
stamp of its approval—who cherish such tender reminiscences of St. John
Long, that they cannot mention his name without their eyes becoming
bright with tears. Of course this proves nothing, save the credulity and
fond infatuation of the fair ones who love. The hands of women decked
Nero's tomb with flowers.
THE ANATOMIST
 CHAPTER XXII.
THE QUARRELS OF PHYSICIANS.
For many a day authors have had the reputation of being more sensitive
and quarrelsome than any other set of men. Truth to tell, they are not
always so amiable and brilliant as their works. There is in them the
national churlishness inducing them to nurse a contempt for every one
they don't personally know, and a spirit of antagonism towards nearly
every one they do. But to say this is only to say that they are made of
British oak. Unfortunately, however, they carry on their contentions in a
manner that gives them a wide publicity and a troublesome duration of
fame. Soldiers, when they quarrelled in the last century, shot one another
like gentlemen, at two paces' distance, and with the crack of their pistols
the whole noise of the matter ceased. Authors, from time immemorial,
have in their angry moments rushed into print, and lashed their
adversaries with satire, rendered permanent by aid of the printer's devil,
—thus letting posterity know all the secrets of their folly, whilst the
merciful grave put an end to all memorial of the extravagances of their
friends. There was less love between Radcliffe and Hannes, Freind and
Blackmore, Gibbons and Garth, than between Pope and Dennis, Swift and
Grub Street. But we know all about the squabbles of the writers from
their poems; whereas only a vague tradition, in the form of questionable
anecdotes, has come down to us of the animosities of the doctors—a
tradition which would long ere this have died out, had not Garth—author
as well as physician—written the "Dispensary," and a host of dirty little
apothecaries contracted a habit of scribbling lampoons about their
professional superiors.
Luckily for the members of it, the Faculty of Medicine is singularly barren
of biographies. The career of a physician is so essentially one of
confidence, that even were he to keep a memorial of its interesting
occurrences, his son wouldn't dare to sell it to a publisher as the
"Revelations of a Departed Physician." Long ere it would be decent or
safe to print such a diary, the public would have ceased to take an
interest in the writer. Pettigrew's "Life of Lettsom," and Macilwain's
"Memoirs of Abernethy," are almost the only two passable biographies of
eminent medical practitioners in the English language; and the last of
these does not presume to enter fully on the social relations of the great
surgeon. The lives of Hunter and Jenner are meagre and unworthily
executed, and of Bransby Cooper's Life of his uncle little can be said that
is not in the language of emphatic condemnation.
From this absence of biographical literature the medical profession at
least derives this advantage—the world at large knows comparatively
little of their petty feuds and internal differences than it would otherwise.
The few memorials, however, that we have of the quarrels of physicians
are of a kind that makes us wish we had more. Of the great battle of the
apothecaries with the physicians we have already spoken in the notice of
Sir Samuel Garth. To those who are ignorant of human nature it may
appear incredible that a body, so lovingly united against common foes,
should have warred amongst themselves. Yet such was the case. A
London druggist once put up at the chief inn of a provincial capital,
whither he had come in the course of his annual summer ride. The good
man thought it would hurt neither his health nor his interests to give "a
little supper" to the apothecaries of the town with whom he was in the
habit of doing business. Under the influence of this feeling he sallied out
from "The White Horse," and spent a few hours in calling on his friends—
asking for orders and delivering invitations. On returning to his inn, he
ordered a supper for twelve—as eleven medical gentlemen had engaged
to sup with him. When the hour appointed for the repast was at hand, a
knock at the door was followed by the appearance of guest A, with a
smile of intense benevolence and enjoyment. Another rap—and guest B
entered. A looked blank—every trace of happiness suddenly vanishing
from his face. B stared at A, as much as to say, "You be ——!" A shuffled
with his feet, rose, made an apology to his host for leaving the room to
attend to a little matter, and disappeared. Another rap—and C made his
bow of greeting. "I'll try to be back in five minutes, but if I'm not, don't
wait for me," cried B, hurriedly seizing his hat and rushing from the
apartment. C, a cold-blooded, phlegmatic man, sat down unconcernedly,
and was a picture of sleeping contentment till the entry of D, when his
hair stood on end, and he fled into the inn-yard, as if he were pursued by
a hyena. E knocked and said, "How d' you do?" D sprung from his chair,
and shouted, "Good-bye!" And so it went on till, on guest No. 11 joining
the party—that had received so many new comers, and yet never for an
instant numbered more than three—No. 10 jumped through the window,
and ran down the street to the bosom of his family. The hospitable
druggist and No. 11 found, on a table provided for twelve, quite as much
supper as they required.
Next morning the druggist called on A for an explanation of his conduct.
"Sir," was the answer, "I could not stop in the same room with such a
scoundrel as B." So it went straight down the line. B had vowed never to
exchange words with C. C would be shot rather than sit at the same table
with such a scoundrel as D.
"You gentlemen," observed the druggist, with a smile to each, "seem to
be almost as well disposed amongst yourselves as your brethren in
London; only they, when they meet, don't run from each other, but draw
up, square their elbows, and fight like men."
The duel between Mead and Woodward, as it is more particularly
mentioned in another part of these volumes, we need here only to allude
to. The contest between Cheyne and Wynter was of a less bloody
character. Cheyne was a Bath physician, of great practice and yet greater
popularity—dying in 1743, at the age of seventy-two. At one time of his
life he was so prodigiously fat that he weighed 32 stone, he and a
gentleman named Tantley being the two stoutest men in Somersetshire.
One day, after dinner, the former asked the latter what he was thinking
about.
"I was thinking," answered Tantley, "how it will be possible to get either
you or me into the grave after we die."
Cheyne was nettled, and retorted, "Six or eight stout fellows will do the
business for me, but you must be taken at twice."
Cheyne was a sensible man, and had more than one rough passage of
arms with Beau Nash, when the beau was dictator of the pump-room.
Nash called the doctor in and asked him to prescribe for him. The next
day, when the physician called and inquired if his prescription had been
followed, the beau languidly replied:—
"No, i' faith, doctor, I haven't followed it. 'Pon honour, if I had I should
have broken my neck, for I threw it out of my bed-room window."
But Cheyne had wit enough to reward the inventor of the white hat for
this piece of insolence. One day he and some of his learned friends were
enjoying themselves over the bottle, laughing with a heartiness unseemly
in philosophers, when, seeing the beau draw near, the doctor said:—
"Hush, we must be grave now, here's a fool coming our way."
Cheyne became ashamed of his obesity, and earnestly set about
overcoming it. He brought himself down by degrees to a moderate diet,
and took daily a large amount of exercise. The result was that he reduced
himself to under eleven stone, and, instead of injuring his constitution,
found himself in the enjoyment of better health. Impressed with the
value of the discovery he had made, he wrote a book urging all people
afflicted with chronic maladies to imitate him and try the effects of
temperance. Doctors, notwithstanding their precepts in favour of
moderation, neither are, nor ever have been, averse to the pleasures of
the table. Many of them warmly resented Cheyne's endeavours to bring
good living into disrepute, possibly deeming that their interests were
attacked not less than their habits. Dryden wrote,
"The first physicians by debauch were made.
Excess began, and sloth sustained the trade;
By chase our long-liv'd fathers earned their food,
Toil strung their nerves and purified their blood;
But we, their sons, a pamper'd race of men,
Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten.
Better to hunt in fields for health unbought,
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught;
The wise for cure on exercise depend,
God never made his work for man to mend."
Dr. Wynter arose to dispose of Cheyne in a summary fashion. Wynter had
two good reasons for hating Cheyne: Wynter was an Englishman and
loved wine, Cheyne was a Scotchman and loved milk.
Dr. Wynter to Dr. Cheyne.
 "Tell me from whom, fat-headed Scot,
Thou didst thy system learn;
From Hippocrate thou hadst it not,
Nor Celsus, nor Pitcairn.

"Suppose we own that milk is good,

And say the same of grass;
The one for babes is only food,
The other for an ass.

"Doctor, one new prescription try

(A friend's advice forgive),
Eat grass, reduce thyself, and die,
Thy patients then may live."

Cheyne responded, with more wit and more good manners, in the
following fashion:—
"Dr. Cheyne to Dr. Wynter.

"My system, doctor, is my own,

No tutor I pretend;
My blunders hurt myself alone,
But yours your dearest friend.

"Were you to milk and straw confin'd,

Thrice happy might you be;
Perhaps you might regain your mind,
And from your wit be free."

"I can't your kind prescription try,

But heartily forgive;
'Tis natural you should wish me die,
That you yourself may live."

The concluding two lines of Cheyne's answer were doubtless little to the
taste of his unsuccessful opponent.
In their contentions physicians have not often had recourse to the duel.
With them an appeal to arms has rarely been resorted to, but when it has
been deliberately made the combatants have usually fought with
decision. The few duels fought between women have for the most part
been characterized by American ferocity. Madame Dunoyer mentions a
case of a duel with swords between two ladies of rank, who would have
killed each other had they not been separated. In a feminine duel on the
Boulevard St. Antoine, mentioned by De la Colombèire, both the
principals received several wounds on the face and bosom—a most
important fact illustrative of the pride the fair sex take in those parts.[21]
Sometimes ladies have distinguished themselves by fighting duels with
men. Mademoiselle Dureux fought her lover Antinotti in an open street.
The actress Maupin challenged Dumény, but he declined to give her
satisfaction; so the lady stripped him of watch and snuff-box, and bore
them away as trophies of victory. The same lady, on another occasion,
having insulted in a ball-room a distinguished personage of her own sex,
was requested by several gentlemen to quit the entertainment. She
obeyed, but forthwith challenged and fought each of the meddlesome
cavaliers—and killed them all! The slaughter accomplished, she returned
to the ball-room, and danced in the presence of her rival. The Marquise
de Nesle and the Countess Polignac, under the Regency, fought with
pistols for the possession of the Duc de Richelieu. In or about the year
1827, a lady of Châteauroux, whose husband had received a slap in the
face, called out the offender, and severely wounded him in a duel fought
with swords. The most dramatic affair of honour, however, in the annals
of female duelling occurred in the year 1828, when a young French girl
challenged a garde du corps who had seduced her. At the meeting the
seconds took the precaution of loading without ball, the fair principal of
course being kept in ignorance of the arrangement. She fired first and
saw her seducer remain unhurt. Without flinching, or changing colour,
she stood watching her adversary, whilst he took a deliberate aim (in
order to test her courage), and then, after a painful pause, fired into the
air.
Physicians have been coupled with priests, as beings holding a position
between the two sexes. In the Lancashire factories they allow women
and clergymen the benefit of an entrée—because they don't understand
business. Doctors and ladies could hardly be coupled together by the
same consideration; but they might be put in one class out of respect to
that gentleness of demeanour and suavity of voice which distinguish the
members of the medical profession, in common with well-bred women.
Gentle though they be, physicians have, however, sometimes indulged in
wordy wrangling, and then had recourse to more sanguinary arguments.
The duel between Dr. Williams and Dr. Bennet was one of the bloodiest in
the eighteenth century. They first battered each other with pamphlets,
and then exchanged blows. Matters having advanced so far, Dr. Bennet
proposed that the fight should be continued in a gentlemanly style—with
powder instead of fists. The challenge was declined; whereupon Dr.
Bennet called on Dr. Williams, to taunt him with a charge of cowardice.
No sooner had he rapped at the door, than it was opened by Williams
himself, holding in his hand a pistol loaded with swan-shot, which he,
without a moment's parley, discharged into his adversary's breast.
Severely wounded, Bennet retired across the street to a friend's house,
followed by Williams, who fired another pistol at him. Such was the
demoniacal fury of Williams, that, not contented with this outrage, he
drew his sword, and ran Bennet through the body. But this last blow was
repaid. Bennet managed to draw his rapier, and give his ferocious
adversary a home-thrust—his sword entering the breast, coming out
through the shoulder-blade, and snapping short. Williams crawled back in
the direction of his house, but before he could reach it fell down dead.
Bennet lived only four hours. A pleasant scene for the virtuous capital of
a civilized and Christian people!
The example of Dr. Bennet and Dr. Williams was not lost upon the
physicians of our American cousins. In the August of 1830, a meeting
took place, near Philadelphia, between Dr. Smith and Dr. Jeffries. They
exchanged shots at eight paces, without inflicting any injury, when their
friends interposed, and tried to arrange the difficulty; but Dr. Jeffries
swore that he would not leave the ground till some one had been killed.
The principals were therefore put up again. At the second exchange of
shots Dr. Smith's right arm was broken, when he gallantly declared that,
as he was wounded, it would be gratifying to his feelings, to be killed.
Third exchange of shots, and Dr. Smith, firing with his left arm, hits his
man in the thigh, causing immense loss of blood. Five minutes were
occupied in bandaging the wound; when Dr. Jeffries, properly primed
with brandy, requested that no further obstacles might be raised between
him and satisfaction. For a fourth time the mad men were put up—at the
distance of six feet. The result was fatal to both. Dr. Smith dropped dead
with a ball in his heart. Dr. Jeffries was shot through the breast, and
survived only a few hours. The conduct of Dr. Jeffries during those last
few hours was admirable, and most delightfully in keeping with the rest
of the proceeding. On seeing his antagonist prostrate, the doctor asked if
he was dead. On being assured that his enemy lived no longer, he
observed, "Then I die contented." He then stated that he had been a
school-mate with Dr. Smith, and that, during the fifteen years throughout
which they had been on terms of great intimacy and friendship, he had
valued him highly as a man of science and a gentleman.
One of the latest duels in which an English physician was concerned as a
principal was that fought on the 10th of May, 1833, near Exeter, between
Sir John Jeffcott and Dr. Hennis. Dr. Hennis received a wound, of which
he died. The affair was brought into the Criminal Court, and was for a
short time a cause célèbre on the western circuit; but the memory of it
has now almost entirely disappeared.
As we have already stated, duels have been rare in the medical
profession. Like the ladies, physicians have, in their periods of anger,
been content with speaking ill of each other. That they have not lost their
power of courteous criticism and judicious abuse, any one may learn,
who, for a few hours, breathes the atmosphere of their cliques. It is good
to hear an allopathic physician perform his duty to society by frankly
stating his opinion of the character and conduct of an eminent
homœopathic practitioner. Perhaps it is better still to listen to an apostle
of homœopathy, when he takes up his parable and curses the hosts of
allopathy. "Sir, I tell you in confidence," observed a distinguished man of
science, tapping his auditor on the shoulder, and mysteriously whispering
in his ear, "I know things about that man that would make him end his
days in penal servitude." The next day the auditor was closeted in the
consulting-room of that man, when that man said—quite in confidence,
pointing as he spoke to a strong box, and jingling a bunch of keys in his
pocket—"I have papers in that box, which, properly used, would tie a
certain friend of ours up by the neck."
Lettsom, loose-living man though he was for a member of the Society of
Friends, had enough of the Quaker element in him to be very fond of
controversy. He dearly loved to expose quackery, and in some cases did
good service in that way. In the Medical Journal he attacked, A. D. 1806,
no less a man than Brodum, the proprietor of the Nervous Cordial,
avowing that that precious compound had killed thousands; and also
stating that Brodum had added to the crime of wholesale murder the
atrocities of having been born a Jew, of having been a shoe-black in
Copenhagen, and of having at some period of his chequered career
carried on an ignoble trade in oranges. Of course Brodum saw his
advantage. He immediately brought an action against Phillips, the
proprietor of the Medical Journal, laying his damages at £5000. The
lawyers anticipated a harvest from the case, and were proceeding not
only against Phillips, but various newsvendors also, when a newspaper
editor stept in between Phillips and Brodum, and contrived to settle the
dispute. Brodum's terms were not modest ones. He consented to
withdraw his actions, if the name of the author was given up, and if the
author would whitewash him in the next number of the Journal, under
the same signature. Lettsom consented, paid the two attorneys' bills,
amounting to £390, and wrote the required puff of Brodum and his
Nervous Cordial.
One of the singular characters of Dublin, a generation ago, was John
Brenan, M.D., a physician who edited the Milesian Magazine, a scurrilous
publication of the satirist class, that flung dirt on every one dignified
enough for the mob to take pleasure in seeing him bespattered with filth.
The man certainly was a great blackguard, but was not destitute of wit.
How he carried on the war with the members of his own profession the
following song will show:—
"THE DUBLIN DOCTORS.

"My gentle muse, do not refuse

To sing the Dublin Doctors, O;
For they're the boys
Who make the joys
Of grave-diggers and proctors, O.

We'll take 'em in procession, O,

We'll take 'em in succession, O;
But how shall we
 Say who is he
Shall lead the grand procession, O?

Least wit and greatest malice, O,

Least wit and greatest malice, O,
Shall mark the man
Who leads the van,
As they march to the gallows, O.

First come then, Doctor Big Paw, O,

Come first then, Doctor Big Paw, O;
Mrs Kilfoyle
Says you would spoil
Its shape, did you her wig paw, O.

Come next, dull Dr Labat, O,

Come next, dull Dr Labat, O;
Why is it so,
You kill the doe,
Whene'er you catch the rabbit, O?

Come, Harvey, drunken dandy, O,

Come, Harvey, drunken dandy, O;
Thee I could paint
A walking saint,
If you lov'd God like brandy, O.

Come next, Doctor Drumsnuffle, O,

Come next, Doctor Drumsnuffle, O;
Well stuffed with lead,
Your leather head
Is thick as hide of Buffaloe.

Come next, Colossus Jackson, O,

Come next, Colossus Jackson, O;
As jack-ass mute,
A burthen brute,
Just fit to trot with packs on, O.
Come next, sweet Paddy Rooney, O,
Come next, sweet Paddy Rooney, O;
Tho' if you stay
Till judgment's day,
You'll come a month too soon-y, O.

Come next, sweet Breeny Creepmouse, O,

Come next, sweet Breeny Creepmouse, O;
Thee heaven gave
Just sense to shave
A corpse, or an asleep mouse, O.

For I say, creep-mouse Breeny, O,

For I say, creep-mouse Breeny, O;
Thee I can't sing
The fairy's king,
But I'll sing you their Queen-y O;

For I say, Dr Breeny, O,

For I say, Dr Breeny, O;
If I for once
Called you a dunce,
I'd shew a judgment weeny, O.

Come, Richards dull and brazen, O,

Come, Richards dull and brazen, O;
A prosperous drone,
You stand alone,
For wondering sense to gaze on, O.

Then come, you greasy blockhead, O,

Then come, you greasy blockhead, O;
Balked by your face,
We quickly trace,
Your genius to your pocket, O.

Come, Crampton, man of capers, O,

Come, Crampton, man of capers, O;
. . . . .
And come, long Doctor Renney, O,
And come, long Doctor Renney, O;
If sick I'd fee
As soon as thee,
Old Arabella Denny, O.

Come, Tandragee Ferguson, O,

Come, Tandragee Ferguson, O;
Fool, don't recoil,
But as your foil
Bring Ireland or Puke Hewson, O.

Come, ugly Dr Alman, O,

Come, ugly Dr Alman, O;
But bring a mask,
Or do not ask,
When come, that we you call man, O.
. . . . .

Come, Boyton, king of dunces, O,

Come, Boyton, king of dunces, O;
Who call you knave
No lies receive,
Nay, that your name each one says, O.

Come, Colles, do come, Aby, O,

Come, Colles, do come, Aby, O;
Tho' all you tell,
You'll make them well,
You always 'hould say may be, O.

Come, beastly Dr Toomy, O,

Come, beastly Dr Toomy, O;
If impudence
Was common sense
As you no sage ere knew me, O.

Come, smirking, smiling Beattie, O,

Come, smirking, smiling Beattie, O;
 In thee I spy
An apple eye
Of cabbage and potaty, O.

Come, louse-bit Nasom Adams, O,

Come, louse-bit Nasom Adams, O;
In jail or dock
Your face would shock
It thee as base and bad damus, O.

Come next, Frank Smyth on cockney, O,

Come next, Frank Smyth on cockney, O;
Sweet London's pride,
I see you ride,
Despising all who flock nigh, O.

And bring your partner Bruen, O,

And bring your partner Bruen, O;
And with him ride
All by your side,
Like two fond turtles cooing, O.

Come next, Spilsberry Deegan, O,

Come next, Spilsberry Deegan, O;
With grace and air
Come kill the fair,
Your like we'll never, see 'gain, O.

Come, Harry Grattan Douglass, O,

Come, Harry Grattan Douglass, O;
A doctor's name
I think you claim,
With right than my dog pug less, O.

Come, Oronoko Harkan, O,

Come, Oronoko Harkan, O;
I think your face
Is just the place
God fix'd the blockhead's mark on, O.
 Come, Christ-denying Taylor, O,
Come, Christ-denying Taylor, O;
Hell made your phiz
On man's a quiz,
But made it for a jailor, O.

Come, Packwood, come, Carmichael, O,

Come, Packwood, come, Carmichael, O;
Your cancer-paste,
The fools who taste,
Whom it kills not does nigh kill, O.

Come next, Adonis Harty, O,

Come next, Adonis Harty, O;
Your face and frame
Shew equal claim,
Tam Veneri quam Marti, O.

Here ends my song on Doctors, O,

Here ends my song on Doctors, O;
Who, when all damn'd
In hell are cramm'd,
Will beggar all the Proctors, O."
Brenan (to do him justice) was as ready to fell a professional antagonist
and brother with a bludgeon, hunting-whip, or pistol, as he was to scarify
him with doggerel. He was as bold a fellow as Dr. Walsh, the Hibernian
Æsculapius, who did his best to lay Dr. Andrew Marshall down amongst
the daisies and the dead men. Andrew Marshall, when a divinity-student
at Edinburgh, was insulted (whilst officiating for Stewart, the humanity
professor) by a youngster named Macqueen. The insolence of the lad
was punished by the professor (pro tem.) giving him a caning. Smarting
with the indignity offered him, Macqueen ran home to his father,
imploring vengeance; whereupon the irate sire promptly sallied forth, and
entering Marshall's lodgings, exclaimed:—
"Are you the scoundrel that dared to attack my son?"
"Draw and defend yourself!" screamed the divinity student, springing
from his chair, and presenting a sword-point at the intruder's breast. Old
Macqueen, who had expected to have to deal only with a timid half-
starved usher ready to crouch whiningly under personal castigation, was
so astonished at this reception that he turned and fled precipitately. This
little affair happened in 1775. As a physician Andrew Marshall was not
less valiant than he had been when a student of theology. On Walsh
challenging him, he went out and stood up at ten paces like a gentleman.
Walsh, a little short fellow, invisible when looked at side-ways, put
himself in the regular attitude, shoulder to the front. Marshall disdained
such mean prudence, and faced his would-be murdered with his cheeks
and chest inflated to the utmost. Shots were exchanged, Dr. Andrew
Marshall receiving a ball in his right arm, and Dr. Walsh, losing a lock of
hair—snipped off by his opponent's bullet, and scattered by the amorous
breeze. Being thus the gainer in the affair, Dr. Andrew Marshall made it
up with his adversary, and they lived on friendly terms ever afterwards.
Why don't some of our living medici bury the hatchet with a like effective
ceremony?
An affair that ended not less agreeably was that in which Dr. Brocklesby
was concerned as principal, where the would-be belligerents left the
ground without exchanging shots, because their seconds could not agree
on the right number of paces at which to stick up their man. When
Akenside was fool enough to challenge Ballow, a wicked story went about
that the fight didn't come off because one had determined never to fight
in the morning, and the other that he would never fight in the afternoon.
But the fact was—Ballow was a paltry mean fellow, and shirked the peril
into which his ill-manners had brought him. The lively and pleasant
author of "Physic and Physicians," countenancing this unfair story,
reminds us of the off-hand style of John Wilkes in such little affairs. When
asked by Lord Talbot "How many times they were to fire?" the brilliant
demagogue responded—
"Just as often as your Lordship pleases—I have brought a bag of bullets
and a flask of gunpowder with me."
 CHAPTER XXIII.
THE LOVES OF PHYSICIANS.
Honour has flowed to physicians by the regular channels of professional
duty in but scant allowance. Their children have been frequently
ennobled by marriage or for political services. Sir Hans Sloane's daughter
Elizabeth, and manor of Chelsea, passed into the Cadogan family, the
lady marrying the second Baron Cadogan. Like Sir Hans, Dr. Huck
Sanders left behind him two daughters, co-heiresses of his wealth, of
whom one (Jane) was ennobled through wedlock, the tenth Earl of
Westmoreland raising her to be his second wife. Lord Combermere
married the heiress of Dr. Gibbings, of Cork. In the same way Dr.
Marwood's property came to the present Sir Marwood Elton by the
marriage of his grandfather with Frances, the daughter and heiress of the
Devonshire doctor. On the other hand, as instances of the offspring of
physicians exalted to the ranks of the aristocracy for their political
services, the Lords Sidmouth, Denman, and Kingsdown may be
mentioned. Henry Addington, created Viscount Sidmouth, of the county
of Devon, was the eldest son of Anthony Addington, M.D., of Reading—
the physician who objected to fighting any brother physician who had not
graduated at either Oxford or Cambridge. Dr. Anthony was the
enthusiastic toady of the great Earl of Chatham. Devoted to his own
interests and the Pitt family, he rose from the humble position of keeper
of a provincial lunatic asylum to eminence in the medical profession.
Coming up to town in 1754, under the patronage of Pitt, he succeeded in
gaining the confidence of the Court, and was, with Dr. Richard Warren,
Dr. Francis Willis, Dr. Thomas Gisborne, Sir Lucas Pepys, and Dr. Henry
Revell Reynolds, examined, in 1782, by the committee appointed to
examine "the physicians who attended his illness, touching the state of
his Majesty's health." He took a very hopeful view of the king's case; and
on being asked the foundation of his hopes, alluded to his experience in
the treatment of the insane at Reading. The doctor had himself a passion
for political intrigue, which descended to his son. The career of this son,
who raised himself to the Speaker's chair in the House of Commons, to
the dignity of First Minister of the Crown, and to the peerage of the
realm, is matter of history.
Lord Denman was closely connected with the medical profession by
family ties: his father being Dr. Denman, of Mount Street, Grosvenor
Square, the author of a well-known work on a department of his
profession; his uncle being Dr. Joseph Denman of Bakewell; and his two
sisters having married two eminent physicians, Margaret being the wife
of Sir Richard Croft, Bart., and Sophia the wife of Dr. Baillie. Lord
Kingsdown's medical ancestor was his grandfather, Edward Pemberton,
M.D., of Warrington.
But though the list of the ennobled descendants of medical practitioners
might be extended to the limits of a volume, the writer of these pages is
not aware of any case in which a doctor has, by the exercise of his
calling, raised himself to the peerage. As yet, the dignity of a baronetcy is
the highest honour conferred on the most illustrious of the medical
faculty, Sir Hans Sloane being the first of the order to whom that rank
was presented. More than once a physician has won admission into the
noblesse, but the battle resulting in such success has been fought in the
arena of politics or the bustle of the law courts. Sylvester Douglas
deserted the counter, at which he commenced life an apothecary, and
after a prolonged servitude to, or warfare with, the cliques of the House
of Commons, had his exertions rewarded and his ambition gratified with
an Irish peerage and a patrician wife. On his elevation he was of course
taunted with the humility of his origin, and by none was the reproach
flung at him with greater bitterness than it was by a brother parvenu and
brother poet.
"What's his title to be?" asked Sheridan, as he was playing at cards;
"what's Sylvester Douglas to be called?"
"Lord Glenbervie," was the answer.
"Good Lord!" replied Sheridan; and then he proceeded to fire off an
impromptu, which he had that morning industriously prepared in bed,
and which he subsequently introduced into one of his best satiric pieces.
"Glenbervie, Glenbervie,
 What's good for the scurvy?
For ne'er be your old trade forgot.
In your arms rather quarter
A pestle and mortar,
And your crest be a spruce gallipot."
The brilliant partizan and orator displayed more wit, if not better taste, in
his ridicule of Addington, who, in allusion to the rise of his father from a
humble position in the medical profession, was ordinarily spoken of by
political opponents as "The Doctor." On one occasion, when the Scotch
members who usually supported Addington voted in a body with the
opposition, Sheridan, with a laugh of triumph, fired off a happy mis-
quotation from Macbeth,—"Doctor, the Thanes fly from thee."
Henry Bickersteth, Lord Langdale, was the luckiest of physicians and
lawyers. He used the medical profession as a stepping-stone, and the
legal profession as a ladder, and had the fortune to win two of the
brightest prizes of life—wealth and a peerage—without the humiliation
and toil of serving a political party in the House of Commons. The second
son of a provincial surgeon, he was apprenticed to his father, and
educated for the paternal calling. On being qualified to kill, he became
medical attendant to the late Earl of Oxford, during that nobleman's
travels on the Continent. Returning to his native town, Kirby Lonsdale, he
for awhile assisted his father in the management of his practice; but
resolved on a different career from that of a country doctor, he became a
member of Caius College, Cambridge, and devoted himself to
mathematical study with such success that, in 1808, when he was
twenty-eight years old, he became Senior Wrangler and First Smith's
prizeman. As late as the previous year he was consulted medically by his
father. In 1811 he was called to the bar by the Inner Temple, and from
that time till his elevation to the Mastership of the Rolls he was both the
most hard-working and hard-worked of the lawyers in the Equity Courts,
to which he confined his practice. In 1827 he became a bencher of his
Inn; and, in 1835, although he was a staunch and zealous liberal, and a
strenuous advocate of Jeremy Bentham's opinions, he was offered a seat
on the judicial bench by Sir Robert Peel. This offer he declined, though he
fully appreciated the compliment paid him by the Tory chieftain. He had
not, however, to wait long for his promotion. In the following year (1836)
he was, by his own friends, made Master of the Rolls, and created a peer
of the realm, with the additional honour of being a Privy-Councillor. His
Lordship died at Tunbridge Wells, in 1851, in his sixty-eighth year. It
would be difficult to point to a more enviable career in legal annals than
that of this medical lawyer, who won the most desirable honours of his
profession without ever sitting in the House of Commons, or acting as a
legal adviser of the Crown—and when he had not been called quite
twenty-five years. To give another touch to this picture of a successful
life, it may be added, that Lord Langdale, after rising to eminence,
married Elizabeth, daughter of the Earl of Oxford, to whom he had
formerly been travelling medical attendant.
Love has not unfrequently smiled on doctors, and elevated them to
positions at which they would never have arrived by their professional
labours. Sir Lucas Pepys, who married the Countess De Rothes, and Sir
Henry Halford, whose wife was a daughter of the eleventh Lord St. John
of Blestoe, are conspicuous amongst the more modern instances of
medical practitioners advancing their social condition by aristocratic
alliances. Not less fortunate was the farcical Sir John Hill, who gained for
a bride the Honourable Miss Jones, a daughter of Lord Ranelagh—a
nobleman whose eccentric opinion, that the welfare of the country
required a continual intermixture of the upper and lower classes of
society, was a frequent object of ridicule with the caricaturists and
lampoon-writers of his time. But the greatest prize ever made by an
Æsculapius in the marriage-market was that acquired by Sir Hugh
Smithson, who won the hand of Percy's proud heiress, and was created
Duke of Northumberland. The son of a Yorkshire baronet's younger son,
Hugh Smithson was educated for an apothecary—a vocation about the
same time followed for several years by Sir Thomas Geery Cullum, before
he succeeded to the family estate and dignity. Hugh Smithson's place of
business was Hatton Garden, but the length of time that he there
presided over a pestle and mortar is uncertain. In 1736 he became a
Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, but he withdrew from that learned
body, on the books of which his signature may be found, in the year
1740. A few months after this secession, Sir Hugh led to the altar the
only child and heiress of Algernon Seymour, Duke of Somerset. There still
lives a tradition that the lady made the offer to Sir Hugh immediately
after his rejection by a famous belle of private rank and modest wealth.
Another version of the story is that, when she heard of his
disappointment, she observed publicly, "that the disdainful beauty was a
fool, and that no other woman in England would be guilty of like folly."
On hearing this, the baronet, a singularly handsome man, took courage
to sue for that to which men of far higher rank would not have presumed
to aspire. The success that followed his daring, of course, brought upon
him the arrows of envy. He had won so much, however, that he could,
without ill-humour, bear being laughed at. On being created Duke of
Northumberland in 1766, he could afford to smile at a proposition that his
coronet should be surrounded with senna, instead of strawberry-leaves;
for, however much obscure jealousy might affect to contemn him, he was
no fit object for disdain—but a gentleman of good intellect and a lordly
presence, and (though he had mixed drugs behind a counter) descended
from an old and honourable family. The reproach of being a Smithson,
and no Percy, had more force when applied to the second duke in the
Anti-Jacobin, than it had when hurled vindictively at the ex-doctor himself
by the mediocrities of the beau monde, whom he had beaten on their
own ground by superior attractions and accomplishments.

"Nay," quoth the Duke, "in thy black scroll

Deductions I espye—
For those who, poor, and mean, and low,
With children burthen'd lie.

"And though full sixty thousand pounds

My vassals pay to me,
From Cornwall to Northumberland,
Through many a fair countree;

"Yet England's church, its king, its laws,

Its cause I value not,
Compared with this, my constant text,
A penny saved is got.

"No drop of princely Percy's blood

Through these cold veins doth run;
With Hotspur's castles, blazon, name,
I still am poor Smithson."
Considering the opportunities that medical men have for pressing a suit
in love, and the many temptations to gentle emotion that they experience
in the aspect of feminine suffering, and the confiding gratitude of their
fair patients, it is perhaps to be wondered at that only one medical duke
is to be found in the annals of the peerage. When Swift's Stella was on
her death-bed, her physician said, encouragingly—"Madam, you are
certainly near the bottom of the hill, but we shall endeavour to get you
up once more," the naïve reply of the poor lady was, "Doctor, I am afraid
I shall be out of breath before I get to the top again." Not less touching
was the fear expressed by Steele's merry daughter to her doctor, that she
should "die before the holidays." Both Stella and Sir Richard's child had
left their personal charms behind them when they so addressed their
physicians; but imagine, my brother, what the effect of such words would
be on your susceptible heart, if they came from the lips of a beautiful girl.
Would you not (think you) try to win other such speeches from her?—and
if you tried, dear sir, surely you would succeed!
Prudence would order a physician, endowed with a heart, to treat it in
the same way as Dr. Glynn thought a cucumber ought to be dressed—to
slice it very thin, pepper it plentifully, pour upon it plenty of the best
vinegar, and then—throw it away. A doctor has quite enough work on his
hands to keep the affections of his patients in check, without having to
mount guard over his own emotions. Thackeray says that girls make love
in the nursery, and practise the arts of coquetry on the page-boy who
brings the coals upstairs—a hard saying for simple young gentlemen
triumphing in the possession of a first love. The writer of these pages
could point to a fair dame, who enjoys rank amongst the highest and
wealth equal to the station assigned her by the heralds, who not only
aimed tender glances, and sighed amorously to a young waxen-faced,
blue-eyed apothecary, but even went so far as to write him a letter
proposing an elopement, and other merry arrangements, in which a
carriage, everlastingly careering over the country at the heels of four
horses, bore a conspicuous part. The silly maiden had, like Dinah, "a
fortune in silvyer and gold," amounting to £50,000, and her blue-eyed
Adonis was twice her age; but fortunately he was a gentleman of honour,
and, without divulging the mad proposition of the young lady, he induced
her father to take her away for twelve months' change of air and scene.
Many years since the heroine of this little episode, after she had become
the wife of a very great man, and the mother of children who bid fair to
become ornaments to their illustrious race, expressed her gratitude
cordially to this Joseph of the doctors, for his magnanimity in not
profiting by the absurd fancies of a child, and the delicacy with which he
had taken prompt measures for her happiness; and, more recently, she
manifested her good will to the man who had offered her what is
generally regarded as the greatest insult a woman can experience, by
procuring a commission in the army for his eldest son.
The embarrassments Sir John Eliot suffered under from the emotional
overtures of his fair patients are well known. St. John Long himself had
not more admirers amongst the élite of high-born English ladies. The king
had a strong personal dislike to Sir John,—a dislike possibly heightened
by a feeling that it was sheer impudence in a doctor to capture without
an effort the hearts of half the prettiest women amongst his subjects—
and then shrug his shoulders with chagrin at his success. Lord George
Germain had hard work to wring a baronetcy out of his Majesty for this
victim of misplaced affection.
"Well," said the king, at last grudgingly promising to make Eliot a baronet
—"my Lord, since you desire it, let it be; but remember he shall not be
my physician."
"No, sir," answered Lord George—"he shall be your Majesty's baronet,
and my physician."
Amongst other plans Sir John resorted to, to scare away his patients and
patronesses, he had a death's-head painted on his carriage-panels; but
the result of this eccentric measure on his practice and on his sufferings
was the reverse of what he desired. One lady—the daughter of a noble
member of a Cabinet—ignorant that he was otherwise occupied, made
him an offer, and on learning to her astonishment that he was a married
man, vowed that she would not rest till she had assassinated his wife.
Poor Radcliffe's loves were of a less flattering sort, though they
resembled Sir John Eliot's in respect of being instances of reciprocity all
on one side. But the amorous follies of Radcliffe, ludicrous though they
became under the touches of Steele's pen, are dignified and manly when
compared with the senile freaks of Dr. Mead, whose highest delight was
to comb the hair of the lady on whom, for the time being, his affections
were set.
Dr. Cadogan, of Charles the Second's time, was, like Sir John Eliot, a
favourite with the ladies. His wont was to spend his days in shooting and
his evenings in flirtation. To the former of these tastes the following lines
refer:—
"Doctor, all game you either ought to shun,
Or sport no longer with the unsteady gun;
But like physicians of undoubted skill,
Gladly attempt what never fails to kill,
Not lead's uncertain dross, but physic's deadly pill."
Whether he was a good shot we cannot say; but he was sufficiently
adroit as a squire of dames, for he secured as his wife a wealthy lady,
over whose property he had unfettered control. Against the money,
however, there were two important points figuring under the head of
"set-off"—the bride was old and querulous. Of course such a woman was
unfitted to live happily with an eminent physician, on whom bevies of
court ladies smiled whenever he went west of Charing Cross. After
spending a few months in alternate fits of jealous hate and jealous
fondness, the poor creature conceived the terrible fancy that her husband
was bent on destroying her with poison, and so ridding his life of her
execrable temper. One day, when surrounded by her friends, and in the
presence of her lord and master, she fell on her back in a state of
hysterical spasms, exclaiming:—
"Ah! he has killed me at last. I am poisoned!"
"Poisoned!" cried the lady-friends, turning up the whites of their eyes.
"Oh! gracious goodness!—you have done it, doctor!"
"What do you accuse me of?" asked the doctor, with surprise.
"I accuse you—of—killing me—ee," responded the wife, doing her best to
imitate a death-struggle.
"Ladies," answered the doctor, with admirable nonchalance, bowing to
Mrs. Cadogan's bosom associates, "it is perfectly false. You are quite
welcome to open her at once, and then you'll discover the calumny."
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