However rough Abernethy could occasionally be, there was, on grave occasions, no feature of his character more striking than his humanity. Dr. Barnett[74] had a case where Abernethy was about to perform a severe operation. The Doctor, at that time a young man, was anxious to have every thing duly prepared, and had been very careful. When Abernethy arrived, he went into the room into which the patient was to be brought, and, looking on the instruments, &c. on the table, said: "Ay, yes, that is all right;" then, pausing for a moment, he said: "No, there is one thing you have forgotten;" and then, throwing a napkin over the instruments, added: "It is bad enough for the poor patient to have to undergo an operation, without being obliged to see those terrible instruments."
Few people get off so badly in the world as poor gentlemen. There are multifarious provisions in this kingdom for all sorts of claimants; but a poor gentleman slips down between those which are not applicable to his case, and those which are too repulsive to be practicable. His sensibilities remain—nay, perhaps are sharpened—and thus, whilst they tend to exasperate his wants, they increase the difficulty of supplying them. There is here afforded a grateful opportunity for the indulgence of what we believe, amidst some exceptions, to be the ruling spirit of medical men: a sensitive philanthropy, which no men in the world are more liberal in disbursing. Abernethy had his full share of this excellence. There are multitudes of instances exemplifying it. We are indebted for the following to Mr. Brown, of the respected firm of Longman and Co. Abernethy was just stepping into his carriage to go and see the Duke of ——, to whom he had been sent for in a hurry, when a gentleman stopped him to say that he should be very glad if he could, at his leisure, pay Mr. —— another visit at Somers Town. Abernethy had seen this poor gentleman before, and advised a course which it appeared that the patient had not resolution to follow. "Why," said Abernethy, "I can't go now, I am going in haste to see the Duke of ——." Then pausing a moment before he stepped into the carriage, he looked up to the coachman and said, quietly, "Somers Town." This is very characteristic. The fidgetty irritability of his first impression at interference, and the beneficence of his second thought.