"It is as much commendation as any man can bear, to own him excellent; all beyond it is idolatry."—Dryden.
It has been stated by an acute observer that it was impossible for any man to be with Abernethy, even for a short time, without feeling that he was in communion with no common mind; and it was just, I think, the first effect he produced. In person, he was of middle stature, and well proportioned for strength and activity. He had a most interesting countenance; it combined the character of a philosopher and a philanthropist, lighted up by cheerfulness and humour. It was not that his features were particularly well formed or handsome, though there was not a bad one in the whole countenance; but the harmony of composition (if we may be allowed the expression) was so perfect.
A sufficiently high and ample forehead towered over two of the most observant and expressive eyes I almost ever saw. People differ about colour; they appeared to me always of a greyish-blue, and were characterized as the rule by a mirthful yet piercing expression, from which an overlaying of benevolence was seldom wanting; yet, as we have before observed, they would sometimes launch forth gleams of humour, anger, or pathos, as the case might be, which were such as the term dramatic can alone convey.
There was another expression of his eye which was very characteristic; it was when his benevolence was excited without the means of gratifying it, as would sometimes happen in the case of hospital patients, for whom he wanted good air, and things which their position did not allow them to procure. He would in this case step a pace or two from the bed, throw his head a little aside, and, talking to the dresser, exhibit an expression of deep feeling which was extremely peculiar; it was a mixture of suffering, of impatience, and sympathy; but the force which the scene drew from the dramatic character of his expressive countenance is entirely lost in the mere relation. If, at such times, he gave utterance to a few words, they were always extremely touching and expressive. On an occasion, for example, like the following, these characters were combined. A woman came into the hospital to have an operation performed; and Abernethy, as was his invariable custom, took some time to get her health into a more favourable condition. When the day for the operation was at hand, the dresser informed him that she was about to quit the hospital.
"Why, my good woman," said Abernethy, "what a fool you must be to come here to have an operation performed; and now, just as you are in a fit state for it, to go out again." Somebody here whispered to him that her father in the country "was dying." With a burst of indignation, his eyes flashing fire, he turned to the dresser, and said: "You fool, why did you not tell me this before?" Then, after a moment or two looking at the patient, he went from the foot up to the side of the bed, and said in the kindest tone possible: "Yes, my good woman, you shall go out immediately; you may come back again when you please, and I will take all the care I can of you."
Now there was nothing in all this, perhaps; but his manner gave it immense force. And I remember one of the old pupils saying to me: "How kind he was to that woman; upon my soul, I could hardly help crying."
Abernethy exemplified a very rare and powerful combination of intellectual qualities. He had a perception of the facts of a subject at once rapid, penetrating, and comprehensive, and a power of analysis which immediately elicited those relations which were most important to the immediate objects of the investigation; a power, of course, of the utmost value in a practical profession.
This faculty was never more marvellously displayed than sometimes in doubtful or difficult cases; and this had been always a striking excellence in him, even when a young man. I recollect hearing my father say, that to see Abernethy to advantage, you must observe him when roused by some difficulty, and in a case where other men were at fault, or puzzled. It was just so; his penetrating mind seemed to remove to either side at once what was foreign or doubtful, and go straight to the point with which alone he had to grapple. Allied to this, if not part of it, was that suggestive power which he possessed in so remarkable a degree, and which by a kind of intuition seemed to single out those pertinent relations and inquiries which the judgment is to examine, and reject, or approve, as the case may be; a faculty absolutely necessary to success in endeavours at extending the boundaries of a science. He was thus sometimes enabled, as has been shown, to convert facts to the highest purposes, in aid of practical improvement, which, with an ordinary observer, would have passed unnoticed.
These qualities, combined with a memory, as we have seen, peculiarly ready, capacious, and retentive, placed his resources at once at hand for practical application. Then, while his quick perception of relation always supplied him with abundant analogies, his imaginative faculty enabled him to illustrate, enforce, and adorn them with such a multitude and variety of illustration as seemed well-nigh inexhaustible.
Of his humour we have already spoken; but the same properties which served him so well in more important matters were really, as it appears to us, the foundation of much of that humour by which his conversation was characterized—we mean his quick perception of relation, and his marvellously retentive memory. Many of the things that he said, "told," not because they were original, so much as that they were ready at hand; not because they were intrinsically good, as so apposite in application; and, lastly, because they were further assisted by his inimitable manner. Nevertheless, sometimes his quick perception would be characterized by a corresponding felicity of expression. Bartleman was an intimate friend of Abernethy's; and those who remember the magnificent voice and peculiarly chaste style of that celebrated singer, will appreciate the felicity of the expression applied to him by Abernethy, when he said, "Bartleman is an orator in music."