Such opportunities were not lost on Abernethy. He soon became possessed of what was known in the ordinary business of anatomy and surgery. His diligence too had afforded him an opportunity of testing those powers of communicating what he knew, to which I have just alluded. As an apprentice of a surgeon of Bartholomew's, his views were directed to that hospital; and it was not long before the resignation of Mr. Pott, and the appointment of Sir Charles Blicke, who was assistant surgeon, to succeed him, opened to Abernethy an arena in which he might further mature his peculiar aptitude for _teaching_ his profession. This had been, as we learn from his own testimony, an early object of his ambition, and one for which he had already begun to educate himself at the London Hospital. [Footnote 14: Sir William was a good surgeon and an excellent man. He was born at Barnes, in Surrey, and practised his profession until his death, which took place at the advanced age of ninety-three. One of his eyes was affected with cataract, which was removed by operation when he was ninety-one. He was enthusiastically fond of his profession, and was chiefly remarkable for his zealous observance of its honourable practice, and his indifference to lucre. He died in 1835.] CHAPTER V. "Terra salutiferas herbas eademque nocentes Nutrit, et urticæ proxima sæpe rosa est."[15] OVID. A large London Hospital is (if we may be excused the Hibernianism, as Mr. Abernethy used to call it) a large microcosm. There is little in human nature, of which an observant eye may not here find types or realities. Hopes and fears, joys and sorrows, solace and suffering, are here strangely intermingled. General benevolence, with special exceptions. There is no human good without its shadow of evil; even the benevolent must take care. Impatient sensibility is much nearer a heartless indifference than people generally imagine. The rose, Charity, must take care of the nettle, Temper. The man who is chary or chafed, in yielding that sympathy which philosophy and feeling require, must beware lest he degenerate into a brute. One of the brightest points in Abernethy's character, was, that, however he might sometimes forget the courtesy due to his private patients, he was never unkind to those whom charity had confided to his care. One morning, leaving home for the hospital, when some one was desirous of detaining him, he said: "Private patients, if they do not like me, can go elsewhere; but the poor devils in the hospital I am bound to take care of."