In reviewing the facts of the foregoing controversy, we are anxious to restrict our remarks to such points as fall within the proper scope of our present object. These appear to us to relate to the mode in which Mr. Abernethy conducted his argument, as being legitimate or otherwise; secondly, the influence the whole affair had in developing one of the most important features in his character; and, lastly, the impression it produced, for good or evil, on the public mind, in relation to our profession.

We would observe, in the first place, that the difficulty of Mr. Abernethy's position was very painful and peculiar. We are not learned in controversy; but we should imagine that position to have been almost without parallel. Mr. Lawrence had been his pupil. As we have seen, Mr. Abernethy had been his patron and his friend; and, moreover, he had been not a little instrumental in placing Mr. Lawrence in the Professor's chair. This instrumentality could not have been merely passive. Mr. Abernethy himself was not a senior of the Council at that time. At all events, he was associated at the College with men much older than himself, and must have owed any influence in the appointment to an active expression of his wishes, supported by that attention to them which, though not necessarily connected with his standing at the College, was readily enough, no doubt, conceded to his talents and his reputation. His singleness of mind in this business was the more amiable, because, had he been disposed to be inactive, there were not wanting circumstances which might not unnaturally have induced some hesitation on the subject. In the postscript at the end of Mr. Abernethy's published Lectures, delivered at the College, we learn that, "From an early period of his studies, Mr. Lawrence had been accustomed to decry and scoff at what I taught as Mr. Hunter's opinions respecting life and its functions; yet," he adds, "as I never could find that he had any good reason for his conduct, I continued to teach them in the midst of the controversy, and derision of such students as had become his proselytes," &c.

This could hardly have been very agreeable. The pupils were wont to discuss most subjects in their gossips in the Square of the hospital, or elsewhere; and many a careless hour has not been unprofitably so employed. On such occasions, those who were so inclined would no doubt use ridicule, or any other weapon that suited their purpose; and so long as any reasonable limits were observed, Mr. Abernethy was the last person likely to take notice of anything which might have reached him on the subject. On the contrary, it was his excellence, and his often-expressed wish that we should canvass every subject for ourselves; and he would enforce the sincerity of his recommendation by advising us with an often-repeated quotation:

"Nullius addictus jurare in verba magistri."

Still, we cannot conceive that the desultory discussions at the hospital, of which he might from time to time have accidentally heard, could have prepared him to expect that a similar tone was to form any portion of the sustained compositions of Lectures to be delivered in Lincoln's Inn Fields. When, however, he found his opinions ridiculed there, by his friend and pupil, what was to be done? Was he to enter into a direct personal sort of controversy with his colleague in office at the College of Surgeons?

There was everything in that course that was inexpedient and repulsive. Was he to be silent on opinions which he knew to have been Mr. Hunter's, and of the moral and scientific advantages of which he had a most matured conviction? That would have been a compromise of his duty. It was a difficult dilemma—a real case of the

"Incidit in Scyllam qui vult vitare Charybdim."

If he avoided one difficulty, he fell into another. He tried to take a middle course—he argued in support of the opinions he had enunciated, and aided these by additional illustrations; and, in contrasting them with those opinions which were opposed to him, he endeavoured to avoid a personal allusion to individuals, by arguing against a class, which he termed the "band of modern sceptics." Even this was a little Charybdis, perhaps; because it had a sort of name-calling effect, whilst it was not at all essential thus to embody in any one phrase the persons who held opposite opinions.

His position was intensely difficult. It should be recollected that Abernethy had always been a teacher of young men; that he had always taught principles of surgery which he conceived to be deducible from those delivered by Hunter; that he further believed that, to understand Hunter clearly, it was necessary to have a correct notion of the idea Mr. Hunter entertained of "Life;" and lastly, that, in all his Lectures, Abernethy had a constant tendency to consider, and a habit of frequent appeal to, what, under different forms, might be regarded as the moral bearings of any subject which might be under discussion. We readily admit that, usually, in conducting scientific arguments, the alleged moral tendencies of this or that view are more acceptable when reserved to grace a conclusion, than when employed to enforce an argument; yet we think that, now, comparatively few persons would think the discussion of any subject bearing on the physical nature of Man, complete, which omitted the very intimate and demonstrable relations which exist between the moral and the physiological laws.

The point, however, which we wish to impress, is, that Mr. Abernethy, in pleading the moral bearings of Hunter's views by deductions of his own, was simply following that course which he had been in the habit of doing on most other questions; it was merely part of that plan on which, without the smallest approach at any attempt to intrude religious considerations inappropriately into the discussion of matters ordinarily regarded as secular, he had always inculcated a straightforward, free-from-cant, do-as-you-would-be-done-by tone in his own Lectures. This, while it formed one of their brightest ornaments, was just that without which all lectures must be held as defective, which are addressed to young men about to enter an arduous and responsible profession.

Abernethy stated nothing as facts but which were demonstrably such; and with regard to any hypotheses which he employed in aid of explaining them, he observed those conditions which philosophers agree on as necessary, whether the hypotheses be adopted or otherwise. He did not do even this, but for the very legitimate object of explaining the views of the man on whose labours he was discoursing.

When those views of Mr. Hunter, which had been thus set forth and illustrated, were attacked, he defended them with his characteristic ability; and although we will not undertake to say that the defence contains no single passage that might not as well have been omitted, we are not aware that, from the beginning to the end, it is charged with a single paragraph that does not fall fairly within the limits that the most stringent would prescribe to scientific controversy.

The discussion of abstract principles is generally unprofitable. We think few things more clear than that we know not the intrinsic nature of any abstract principle; and although it would be presumptuous to say we never shall, yet we think it impossible for any reflecting student in any science to avoid perceiving that there are peculiar relations between the laws of nature and the human capacity, which most emphatically suggest that the study of the one is the proper business, and the prescribed limit to the power, of the other.

Still, the poverty of language is such, as regards the expression of natural phenomena, that necessity has obliged us to clothe the forces in nature with some attribute sufficiently in conformity with our ideas to enable us to give them an intelligible expression; and, whether we talk of luminous particles, ethereal undulations, electric or magnetic fluids, matter of heat, &c. we apprehend that no one now means more than to convey an intellectually tangible expression, of certain forces in nature, of which he desires to discourse; in order to describe the habitudes they observe, or the laws which they obey. This is all we think it necessary to say on the scientific conduct of the argument by Abernethy.

The public have long since expressed their opinion on Mr. Lawrence's Reply and Lectures; and whatever may be regarded as their decision, we have no disposition to canvass or disturb it. There was nothing wonderful, however unusual, in a young man so placed, in a profession like ours, getting into a controversy with a man of such eminence as Abernethy, particularly on speculative subjects. There were in the present case, to be sure, very many objections to such a position; but these it was Mr. Lawrence's province to consider. On this, and many other points, we have as little inclination as we have right, perhaps, to state our opinion. Nevertheless, we must not omit a few words in recognition of Mr. Abernethy's efforts, and a few observations on the conduct of the governing body of the College at that time. In the first place, we feel obliged to Mr. Abernethy for the defence he made on that occasion: not from the importance of any abstract theory, but from the tendency that his whole tone had to inculcate just views of the nature and character of the profession. But we can by no means acquit the Council of the College, at the time of the said controversy, of what we must conceive to have been a great neglect of duty. There is, amongst a certain class of persons, an idea that the medical profession are sceptical on religious subjects; and many of these persons are people of whom it is impossible not to value the respect and good opinion. We never could trace any legitimate grounds for the conclusion. On inquiry, it has always appeared to be nothing more than a "vulgar error," resting, as "vulgar errors" generally do, on general conclusions drawn by people who have deduced them from insufficient particulars.

Sometimes, the persons indulging in this idea have known a medical man whom they consider to be unstable in his religious views; another knows that Mr. A. or B. never goes to church; sometimes, even political differences have been held sufficient excuse for impugning the soundness of a man's ideas on the all-important subject of religion. We have never been able to discover any grounds on which they could, with any show of justice, support so serious an imputation. For our parts, we know not how the necessary data are to be obtained, and therefore should shrink from anything so presumptuous as an attempt to describe the religious character of any profession.

We have no means of obtaining the evidence necessary even to examine, much less to support, so serious and difficult a generalization. The great bulk of our profession are general practitioners; and in forming opinions in regard to any class of men, we naturally look to the greatest number. So far as our own experience has gone, we cannot find the slightest ground for the degrading imputation. Like all other medical men, their labours are incessant, their hours of recreation few, and far between. In their requisitions on their time, the public regard neither night nor day, nor the Sabbath, when they require attention. Then, if we look to conduct as no unreasonable test of religion, we may, like all other professions, have blots. We have, in all grades, it may be, our fee-hunters and long-billed practitioners; but whether we regard the physician, surgeon, or general practitioner, we verily believe that there are no men in the kingdom who, as a body, conduct themselves more honourably, none who are less mercenary, none who, in relation to their position, are less affluent—no bad test—nor who do one-tenth of the work which they do, without any remuneration whatever.

With regard to the alleged absence from public worship, there may be (however explicable) some ground for the remark, and especially as no profession shows, in the general respectability of their conduct, a more ready and respectful acquiescence in the established usages of mankind.

But let the question be fairly stated. How many medical men can go to church every Sunday, and to the same church, without a compromise of a paramount duty? We are ready to concede, that the necessities which professional calls impose on so many occasions, may have a tendency to form habits, when impediments are less pressing; but is it not rather the exactions of the public, than the choice of the profession, which imposes the necessity? How many of the public would be satisfied, if they wished to see a professional man on any pressing occasion, and were told that he could not be seen for a couple of hours, as he was going to church?

Highly as we venerate the benign and beautiful ordinance of the Sabbath, important as we think it, that, on all accounts, it should be observed with reverence and gratitude,—still we should hesitate before we regarded the single act of attendance or absence on public worship as a safe or charitable exposition of any man's religious stability. We, therefore, as far as in us lies, repudiate the charge; we regard it as groundless; and think that, as no profession affords more frequent opportunities for a constant awakening and keeping alive the best sympathies of our nature, so no profession can be more calculated to impress the fragile nature of the body, as contrasted with the immortal spirit which inhabits it, or the constant presence of that Power by whose laws they are both governed. But groundless as we think the charge, we must contend that the apathy of the Council of the College, at the time Mr. Lawrence delivered the lectures in question, was a serious neglect of duty. In those Lectures, Mr. Lawrence spoke of the Old Testament in a tone which must, we think, be regarded as irrelevant to, or at least unnecessary in, a course of Lectures on Comparative Anatomy.

We hold no sympathy with that sort of persecution with which several well-intentioned people visited the book; but we must always regard the Council of the time as having been neglectful of their duty. Lectures on Comparative Anatomy do not render it necessary to impugn the historical correctness, or the inspired character, of the Old Testament. What answer could private individuals make, or with what influence could they oppose the prejudices of the public in relation to the religious securities afforded by men in whom they confide, when they saw a young professor allowed to introduce into lectures—given to an audience composed of the most aged and eminent of the profession, as well as of many of those who were just commencing their studies, delivered, too, at the chartered College of the profession—matter which was not only not at all necessary to the most ample exposition of the subject, but which, as we have said, only alluded to the Old Testament in a manner calculated to weaken its authority as an historical document, and to impugn its inspired character?

Surely there was no more certain mode of giving an ex cathedr sanction to the unfavourable impressions of the public; impressions which tend to tarnish the lustre of a profession which founds its claim to respect on its high office in kindly ministrations and unquestioned utility; and to arm a vulgar and unfounded prejudice with all the influence of Collegiate recognition. If, indeed, the College had desired to support the alleged favourable tendency of Mr. Abernethy's views, or the alleged opposite bearings of those to which he was opposed, they could hardly have done better than to have allowed of the irrelevant matter in question. But we have done. It is no part of our business to quote passages, or further to renew discussions long since passed away, than is necessary for our proper objects. But when we consider on how many points Abernethy must have been hurt, the very difficult and perplexing position in which he was placed, we cannot too much admire the very measured tone he adopted throughout; or the evidently wounded feeling, but still dignified yet simple statement in the published Postscript in his Lectures; and though there had been no subsequent exemplification of his forgiving temper—which was not the case—we should still have felt obliged to regard the whole affair as indicative of great goodness of heart; and, when all the circumstances of disappointment and vexation are duly weighed, of almost unexampled moderation.

It is just to Mr. Lawrence to observe, that, some few years after this, the Governors of Bethlem Hospital, on the annual (and usually formal) election of the surgeon, an office held by Mr. Lawrence, threw the appointment open to competition; on which occasion Mr. Lawrence published a letter expressing regret, in general terms, as to certain passages in the Lectures in question, and his determination not to publish any more on similar subjects. The coincidence of this letter with the threatened tenure of office, of course gave rise to the usual remarks; but, if a man say he is sorry for a thing, perhaps it is better not to scan motives too closely. Mankind stand too much in need of what Burns suggests, and with which we close this not very agreeable subject: