But, in estimating the one or the other, we must view them in relation to the other feelings with which they were accompanied, as impeding or assisting their development and application; or otherwise we shall hardly estimate in its due force the powers of that volition over which the moral sense so constantly presides.
Abernethy had considerable love of approbation—a quality which, regarded in a religious point of view, may be said to embrace all others; but it is one which, in the ordinary relations of life, is apt to dilute the character, bringing down the mind from the contemplation of more elevated motives to the level of those suggested by worldly considerations and conventionalisms. To one shy, even to timidity, and whose organization fitted him rather for the rapid movements of a penetrative and impulsive perception, than the more dogged perseverance of sustained labour, love of approbation, even in the ordinary application of it, might have been a useful stimulus in maintaining exertion; and we believe it was. Yet, though he avowed it as a dominant principle in our nature, as the great "incentive" to human action, he never sought it but by legitimate channels; nor, potential as its influences might have been, when sharpened by shyness and timidity, did he hesitate one moment to throw them all aside whenever the interests of truth or justice rendered it necessary.
When Mr. Hunter's views were little noticed, less understood, and apparently in danger of being forgotten—when the more speculative of his views were not even known as his by any published documents—when, therefore, in addition to other objections, he was, as we have seen, subjected to the imputation of advocating opinions as Hunter's, of which there was no other testimony than the precarious memories of contemporaries,—he stood boldly forward as the fearless, earnest, and eloquent advocate of John Hunter. In this case, he overcome his natural dislike to contest and publicity, and encountered just that individualizing opposition which is most trying to a sensitive organization; exemplifying a rare tribute of truth and justice paid by genius to the claims of a departed brother. At the same time, the power he displayed of moulding views, scarcely even acknowledged, into the elementary beginnings of little less than a new science, strikingly testifies the superiority of his intellectual power.
Whilst, however, he advocated John Hunter's views, and, with a creative spirit, made them the basis of additional structures which were emphatically his own, we find him modestly reverting again and again to John Hunter, as if afraid of not awarding him his just due,—and for ever linking both the early bud put forth by Hunter's inquiries and the opening blossom afforded by his own, with the imperishable efforts of his distinguished master,—exemplifying the modesty of genius, and how superior it is, when guided by virtue, to any but the most exalted motives.
Another example of his independence of mind and of his conquest over difficulty, when the interests of truth appeared to him to render it necessary, was the manner in which, in defiance of ridicule and all sorts of opposition, he advocated his own views; with ultimate success, it is true, but obtained only through a variety of difficulties, greatly augmented by his naturally shy, if not timid, organization. Still, amidst all his brilliant endowments, we feel ourselves fondly reverting to the more peaceful and unobtrusive efforts with which he daily inculcated the conscientious study of an important profession.
That he had faults, is of course true; but they were not the faults of the spirit so much as of the clay-bound tenement in which it resided—not so much those of the individual man as those necessarily allied to humanity. The powerful influences of education had not been very happily applied in Abernethy; its legitimate office is, no doubt, to educe the good, and suppress the evolution of bad qualities. In Abernethy, we can hardly help thinking that his education was more calculated to do just the contrary. "To level a boy with the earth," because he ventured on "a crib to Greek Testament," is, to say the least of it, very questionable discipline for a shy and irritable organization. To restore to its original form the tree which has been bent as a sapling, is always difficult or impossible.
But, in virtue of those beneficent laws which "shelter the shorn lamb," Abernethy was allowed ultimately, less in consequence than in spite of his education, to develop one of the most benevolent of dispositions. To this was joined a powerful conscientiousness, which pervaded everything he did, and which could hardly be supported but by sentiments of religious responsibility; and it is certain that his mind was deeply imbued with the precepts of a vital Christianity, that took the most practical view of his duty to God and to his neighbour; and, in the very imperfect sense in which human nature has ever attained to the full obedience of either, he regarded a humble and practical observance of the one as the best human exposition of the other. His favourite apothegm on all serious occasions, and especially in those parts of his profession where its guidance was most required, was the divine precept of doing to others as we would wish done to ourselves.
In his reflections he strikingly exemplifies how humble and single-minded were his modes of thinking. After the manner of Bishop Butler, but with a simplicity highly characteristic, he identifies that which is truly religious with that which is truly philosophical; and, instead of finding difficulties in those barriers which necessarily lie before finite capacities, when endeavouring to approach the Infinite, he seems to regard them as things which rather direct and limit, than obstruct, legitimate inquiry.
In concluding this imperfect sketch of a difficult character, we have merely endeavoured to state our own impressions. We cannot help thinking that Abernethy has left a space which yet remains unoccupied; it would be presumptuous to say that it will long continue so. In his life he has left us an excellent example to follow, nor has it been less useful in teaching us that which we should avoid.
Whilst amongst us, as he taught us how to exercise some important duty, he would occasionally endeavour to impress matters of detail, by showing, first, how they should not be done. His life instructs us after the same manner. In all serious matters, we may generally take him as a guide; in occasional habits, we may most safely recollect that faults are no less faults—as Mirabeau said of Frederick—because they have the "shadow" of a great name; and we believe that, were it possible, no good man would desire to leave a better expiation of any weakness, than that it should deter others from a similar error. This is the view we would wish our young friends to take of the matter. We cannot all reach the genius of Abernethy, but we may be animated by the same spirit.