If great men are endowed with powers given only to the few, their success generally turns on the steady observance of the more homely qualities which are the common privilege of the many—caution, circumspection, industry, and humility. Again, genius is often charged with weaknesses by which more ordinary minds are unfettered or unembarrassed. We may emulate the justice, the independence of mind, the humanity, the generosity, the modesty, and, above all, the conscientiousness of Abernethy, in all serious cases; without withholding from the more ordinary and lighter duties of our profession a due proportion of these feelings, or necessarily laying aside the forbearance and courtesy which must ever lend an additional grace to our various duties.
We may endeavour with all our power to avoid a disgraceful flattery and compliancy, without replacing them by contrasts which, though not equally mischievous, we may be assured are equally unnecessary: whilst we may, in our various stations, emulate his kindness, his constancy as a husband, father, and friend; and yet not refuse a becoming share of such endearing qualities to others, from any fear that we shall be subject to misconstruction.
We may remember that intellect alone is dry, cold, and calculating; that feeling, unsupported or uncontrolled, is impulsive, paroxysmal, and misleading; and that the few rare moments of moral excellence which human nature achieves, are, when these powers combine, in harmony of purpose and unity of action.
We may be assured that, however much we admire that rapid and searching perceptivity,—that sound, acute, and comprehensive judgment which Abernethy brought to bear on the study of the profession,—or the honourable, independent, generous, and humane manner in which he administered its more important and serious duties,—the greatest, and, for good, the most potential influence of all, was the manner in which he employed his manifold and varied excellences as a teacher in endeavouring to infuse a truly conscientious spirit into the numbers who, as pupils, he sent forth to practise in all parts of the world. This is still an unknown amount of obligation. Those resulting from his works may be proximately calculated, and such as are necessarily omitted in a review essentially popular, may be chronicled hereafter in a more suitable manner; but, as a teacher, we cannot as yet calculate the amount of our obligations to him. They are only to be estimated by reflection; and by recollecting the moral influence of every man who honestly practises an important profession.
Finally, whether we think of the interests of the public, the profession, or those of each, as affecting the other, or of both as affecting the progress of society; we shall, I think, be disposed to agree with one of our most distinguished modern writers, that the "means on which the interests and prospects of society most depend, are the sustained influence that invariably attends the dignity of private virtue."
In a world which presents so much of violated faith and broken ties, the mind experiences a grateful repose in the contemplation of long and uninterrupted friendship.
Of all men, perhaps Sir William Blizard had known Abernethy the longest, and loved him the best; and an intercourse of more than half a century had only served to cement a friendship entirely reciprocal with sentiments of increased respect and regard.
Sir William had been one of the first to excite in Abernethy that love for his profession which led to such brilliant results. He had witnessed his career with all the pleasure that a teacher regards the success of an early pupil, and no doubt with that satisfaction which is inseparable from a prediction fulfilled. He had lived, also, to receive a public and affectionate tribute of gratitude for his early lessons, when Abernethy was in the zenith of his power.
Sir William, however, lived nearly a century, and was still alive and well, when Abernethy's sun was setting, and when that fire which he had been the first to kindle for such useful and benevolent purposes was soon to be extinguished for ever.