and Yorkshire dialects which that inestima ble servant (who always took his chastisement in good part) was accustomed to employ-or how the weather was so hot after a while as to make work next to impossible, and bathing eight times a day and smoking endless cigars the only available occupations -or how the author makes the acquaintance of two mysterious individuals, one with a long beard, and dressed in a Highland coat, French sabots, and always smoking a long meerschaum; and the other a swarthy youth, with long black hair; who fish all night on the loch in a tiny boat, and eat a breakfast which would shame even Captain Dalgetty. Nor can we do more than hint how the author and these two personages, being regarded as madmen by the tourists, conspire to frighten the latter by dressing up in outlandish costumes, and rowing after them to the martial strains of a cornet-àpiston. The first volume contains numerous moving incidents by flood and field that will be found thoroughly readable and entertaining. There is an account, among other things, of a voyage on the lochs with the "Britannia"-of the painter's little farm on the peninsula of Innistrynich, which he established as a kind of depôt, making expeditions at intervals in a thoroughly gypsey manner with the camp-to the bewilderment of his old enemies the tourists—and of a first tour in the Highlands on the back of an ungovernable horse, who on one occasion stopped suddenly, refusing to move, "Turf stood quite still at first, and I thought we should probably have a hard fight for a quarter of an hour; but the battle lasted seven hours by my watch, during which time I never once dismounted. A farmer's wife gave me a piece of bread and cheese which I ate in the saddle. I felt it would not do to dismount, and determined to struggle on till I or Turf should be fairly tired out." But the animal was triumphant after all, and his owner, after subsequent freaks of the same kind, was compelled to get rid of him.

by crowds of fifty and sixty, who peeped of the horrible patois of mingled Lancashire through the windows, and thought themselves well rewarded if they could catch sight of any part of the author's dress or person. Tired at length of these uninvited guests, and having to answer the same questions twenty times a day, the author hit upon a plan of always answering in French -a course which he found attended by the happiest results, and which must have proved a new source of wonderment to the benighted of those regions. Having finished the picture he intended to paint, and being generally satisfied with this experimental trial of camp life, Mr. Hamerton resolves to start for the Highlands. Previously, however, he has two "lifeboats" made on a plan of his own, a hint borrowed from models of the South Sea canoes in the Louvre. The arrangement consists in elongated tubes of galvanized iron, with watertight compartments. Each tube has its rudder-the two rudders being connected with a rod-on the tubes is laid the deck, roomy and steady, so as to allow of a table, easel, or chair being placed on it. The larger of these double boats carries a lateen sail. All things being ready, and having engaged a shepherd lad, who used to "bring the milk" to the hut on the moor, as servant, and packed the boats, the hut, and two additional tents, the author arrives at Loch Awe, and establishes his encampment on a large uninhabited island in the midst of the most picturesque part of the loch, from which can be seen Kilchurn Castle, Ben Cruachan, Ben Anea, and the Pass of Awe. This island, Inishail by name, was formerly occupied by a convent of Cistercian nuns. The ruins of the chapel are yet to be seen, and the people of the neighborhood still bring their dead to be interred here. In this green and quiet isle the painter and his man " Thursday" take up their abode. There is the hut for the master, a square tent with a cooking stove in it for the man, and an old Crimean bell tent to serve as a kitchen and storehouse. In the bay the "Britannia" rides at anchor, and the "Conway" is drawn up on the sandy shore of the island. But we cannot follow further in detail the fortunes of our author, but must pass rapidly over his account of how he endeavored, by the aid of numerous thrashings, to teach "Thursday" English, instead

All these adventures are told in a clear, frank manner, with a little too much selfimportance peeping out here and there, perhaps, but nothing to object to seriously, while the style of writing is easy and perspicuous. The second volume is not so

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says,

satisfactory. Not but what there is much self by society. In another place he speaks that is original and striking in the "Thoughts of his less fortunate brethren, who look at on Art," but there is perpetually a sense of his camping arrangements as they pass by smarting under undeserved injuries-a mor- on the top of a coach, as "envious," and bid sensitiveness to the opinions of the un- other instances might be given, if enough artistic world coming to the surface which had not been said already, to show that Mr. materially interferes with the enjoyment one Hamerton's estimate of painters is not much might have in following out Mr. Hamerton's higher than that which he attributes to theories. In a chapter entitled "The Painter society. Mr Hamerton will not take it as a in his Relation to Society," he shows us compliment, but we cannot help finding a with what universal scorn the painter is remarkable similarity between his writings looked upon by the world, and, to corrobo- and those of that “very bad painter " Hayrate his views, brings forward passages from don. Mr. Hamerton has more literary the writings of Scott, Thackeray, Balzac, power, and is generally grammatical, but About, and others. Dr. M'Culloch gets a we find the same self-assertion-the same rap over the knuckles for an expression sensitiveness to uncongenial opinion and which does not meet with the author's ap-in the works of the unfortunate historical general combative spirit that are to be found proval, and is witheringly set down as a painter. He tells us the most needless dewandering geologist." It would be of no tails of his previous career, personal prowess, use to assure Mr. Hamerton that society and accomplishments; he is not to be conhas not that contempt for painters, as a founded with the common run of painters; class, that he seems to imagine, because he he cannot only write, but write either in has already made up his mind on the point, prose or poetry. "The landscape of my and refuses to be comforted. Speaking of poem, the Isles of Loch Awe,' were all studied from nature on the spot as carefully his adoption of painting as a profession, he as a pre-Raphaelite background." "Poetic "Blinded by no boyish enthusiasm, I fallacy is common to all good word-painting. knew that to give my energies to its ad- I could not dispense with it myself. My. vancement was to close forever the paths of poems are full of it, and my fallacies are not ambition, and to forfeit the respect of men" one whit less absurd than Mr. Ruskin's, In another place he asks "why people in- when coolly pulled to pieces in a matter-ofvariably behave impertinently when they see a painter at work?" and again speaks bitterly of the "degrading occupation of studying from nature." It would be ridiculous to reply to childish petulance like this, or we might point to the names of many living and dead painters in proof of the falsity of Mr. Hamerton's theory. Let us rather see how the author, so anxious for the world's good opinion of his craft and its followers, speaks of his brethren. He tells us more than once that "the majority of artists cannot spell, and would be puzzled to write grammatically.” He sneers at Constable, scoffs at poor Haydon, and in few mighty touches for the very last minute, "He (the painter) has quietly reserved a speaking of the inconveniences of hotel life-reserved them, and foreseen them, for for an artist, says, "Ten to one there will be some dirty fellow, who, because he daubs canvas, claims you at once as a brother of the brush, and puts himself on a footing of the most unpleasant familiarity, chaffing you wittily after the fashion of his class, and calling you Bill or Jack." Here is Mr. Hamerton using the very language which gives him such offence when applied to him

fact manner."

Of Mr. Hamerton's professional capabilities we are unable to speak. His volume is not illustrated, nor do we remember his name in exhibition catalogues. We can assure him, however, that we shall look forward anxiously for his picture entitled the

66

Upper Gates of Glen Etive," on which he tells us he has been working this autumn, not only because he is, as he tells us, "the truest painter of Highland landscape who ever lived," but because we are curious to see a work from the hand of one who describes the "Twelfth process, or finishing," of a picture, in such strange Ruskinese as the following:

Then

long weeks or months. The hour at last is
come when they are to be laid forever on
the canvas! all the innumerable multitude
of the other touches are waiting for these
the spots of pure scarlet, and gold, and
latest ones, their princes and rulers.
azure, are set in their appointed places, and
the infinite array of the living tints about
them glow and rejoice thenceforth in the
gladness of everlasting loyalty."

From Fraser's Magazine. THE LATE SIR BENJAMIN BRODIE.

them.

tion, half a century. During ten years of this period, from 1808 to 1818, he enjoyed a LITTLE did I think, when correcting the considerable and constantly increasing prac proof of my last paper in Fraser (on "Phy-tice; during another decade-i.e., from 1818 sicians and Surgeons of a Bygone Genera- to 1828-he enjoyed a very large and lucration" *), in a country town far removed from tive practice; and in the thirty years bethe smoke and fog of London, that I should so tween 1828 and 1858, when by defective soon have to record the death of the most emi-sight he was forced to retire from the more nent surgeon of his and our time. Yet so it is. active pursuit of his calling, he enjoyed a While I was writing of Brodie, whom I had larger and more lucrative business than any known as a patient for the long period of of his contemporaries, though Cline, Home, thirty years, in the last days of October, as Abernethy, Cooper, Pearson, and Vance, all "a man equally skilled as surgeon and phy-greatly his seniors, could be classed among sician," and wishing him health and length of days, the great surgeon and good man lay upon the bed of sickness-indeed, upon the bed of death-at Broome Park, Betchworth, Surrey, and expired while the proof of my paper was passing through the printer's hands. The distinguished man, who for more than half a century had occupied his days and nights in alleviating and assuaging the pains of the diseased, the afflicted, and the dislocated, not merely of London, but of the empire, was unable to arrest the progress of his own malady, or to do for himself what he had so often done for the highest and lowliest in the land-namely, to effect a cure.

The master of Brodie, Sir Everard Home, stood in the relation of brother-in-law to the famous John Hunter (the great anatomist having married his sister), and succeeded to the office of lecturer at the schools in Leicester Square and Windmill Street in 1790, which Hunter had resigned in his favor, that he might devote his time to the composition of a treatise on the blood, inflammation, and gunshot wounds, which were three of the last of the great anatomist's literary labors. Home, the son of an eminent surgeon, like Hunter, whose pupil he became, was a native of North Britain; and when he rose This has been the fate of many celebrated into eminence and became physician to St. men in both branches of the medical profes- George's Hospital, the Hunterian school fell sion. Sydenham and Cooper, Arbuthnot and into the hands of Wilson and Thomas. The Abernethy, Mead and Sir Everard Home- grandfather of Sir Benjamin Brodie, who, Brodie's master-all succumbed to diseases though long settled in London, was also a which they had thousands of times subdued Scotchman by birth, and married the daughin the cases of patients as aged, but less dis-ter of a Scotch physician, had one son and tinguished than themselves. Yet to most of one daughter. The son, the father of Sir these eminent physicians and surgeons was Benjamin, educated for the Church, became accorded a length of days beyond the allotted rector of Winterslaw, in Wiltshire, and the span spoken of by the inspired writer. Mead daughter (Sir Benjamin's aunt) became the died at eighty-one, Abernethy at nearly ser- wife of the celebrated Dr. Denman, the auenty, Cooper at seventy-two, Home at eighty-thor of the Principles of Midwifery, and fasix, and Brodie in his eightieth year. Of all ther of the late Lord Chief Justice Denman. British physicians or surgeons of whom we It was not therefore, wonderful that, conread in English history, the professional life nected by his grandmother and his aunt with of Sir Benjamin Brodie was the longest and the the medical profession, young Benjamin Colmost eminently successful. The career of John lins Brodie should have early shown a prediHunter in London practice scarcely amounted lection for the profession. to twenty-seven years; Abernethy enjoyed a successful practice of five-and-thirty years; Sir Astley Cooper of fully forty; Sir Everard Home of thirty-eight, while Mr. and Sir Benjamin Brodie's successful professional career exceeded, without a season's interrup

Born in June, 1783, the third son of the Rev. Peter Bellinger Brodie, he received his education under the paternal roof, and was by his father well grounded in classical learning. At the age of fifteen he was an accomplished Greek and Latin scholar, and in his sixteenth year was sent up to the metropolis.

* See Fraser's Magazine for November, 1862, P. The family of Brodie was well acquainted

566.

and nearly connected by intermarriages with became early in life a contributor to the some of the principal practitioners at the Philosophical Transactions; and at the age West End ; and it is therefore not to be won- of twenty-seven received the Copley medal dered at that the youth should be at once for two physiological papers. In 1810 he installed at the close of the last century as a was Croonian Lecturer, and in 1819 became pupil of Wilson and Thomas at the Hunte- Professor of Anatomy and Surgery at the rian School of Medicine in Windmill Street. Royal College of Surgeons, an office anteceHere, for the space of three or four years, he dently filled by his master, Home. This apwas an assiduous and careful student, and he pointment he held till his increasing profesleft the school with the most flattering testi- sional duties obliged him to relinquish it in monials of his earliest professional teachers, justice to his patients. In 1823, at the early to become a pupil of Mr., afterwards Sir age of forty, Mr. Brodie, as a practical and Everard Home, then surgeon to St. George's scientific surgeon, stood second to no man in Hospital at Hyde Park Corner. Not merely the profession. He had not then, indeed, as a practitioner, but as a medical and sur- the world-wide repute of Abernethy or gical writer, Mr. Home at this period stood Cooper, nor was he referred to, as these in the first ranks of the profession. His gentlemen and Cline were, as a consulting books On Ulcers, On Diseases of the Pros- surgeon; but in the practical every-day busitate Gland, and his Lectures on Compara-ness of his profession he was considered the tive Anatomy, are still referred to, I believe, most rising and the safest surgeon of his day, as works of authority; and it should also be the man who was to succeed at no distant remembered that Home was entrusted with time to the eminent renown of his own masthe publication of his master's, John Hunter's ter, and the three celebrated surgeons I have works, On the Blood, On Inflammation, On named in a preceding sentence. So long as Gunshot Wounds, and also of his treatise On George IV. lived, Cline, Cooper, and Keate Lues, enlarged by materials left by Hunter in were his regular body surgeons, but so emian unfinished state. Nor was it merely as a nent was the repute of Brodie in 1830, that surgical writer and editor that Home stood he was called into attendance on George IV. high. He was the author of many valuable in his last illness; and soon after the acarticles in the Philosophical Transactions and cession of William IV. he was created Serother scientific miscellanies, so that he was a geant-Surgeon to that monarch. On the person of large views and general attainments. 30th of August, 1834, like his old master, Mr. Home soon recognized the industry and Home, and his predecessor, Cooper, he was acumen of young Brodie, who in a short period created a baronet; and on the accession of became his favorite and most distinguished her present majesty was appointed her Serpupil. When scarcely more than one-and-geant-Surgeon, as subsequently, on her martwenty, that pupil gave lectures on anatomy riage, he was appointed Surgeon to the late at St. George's Hospital, and at the compar- lamented Prince Consort. In addition to atively early age of five-and-twenty was ap- these honors he was elected, in consequence pointed assistant surgeon to the institution. of his scientific attainments, as President of With three of the eminent physicians of the the Royal Society, an institution in the counhospital-Drs. Warren, George Pearson, and cil of which men so eminent as Abernethy Nevinson-young Brodie was, I have heard, and Dr. Wollaston were content to sit. as great a favorite as with the surgeons; and Nor were the governments of the time, this he owed to his rare knowledge of pharmacy whether Whig or Tory, insensible to the and materia medica. For fourteen years-eminent merits of Sir Benjamin Brodie. i.e., from 1808 to 1822-Mr. Brodie labored He was appointed a member of various comin a subordinate position as assistant-surgeon at St. George's, and in the latter year was elected one of the principal surgeons.

It was probably at this comparatively early period of his life, when under the age of forty, he acquired that accurate knowledge of disease and diagnosis of which he was So unequalled a master. Like Home, he

missions connected with the public health and sanitary reform, and President of the General Committee on Medical Education. These were honorary appointments, without salary, absorbing a good deal of a distinguished man's valuable time; and there were not wanting those who, in the press and elsewhere, intimated that a peerage would

be fittingly conferred on a man so surpass-meridian of his fame. He lived at this peing in his line and so generally useful. But riod, and, indeed, as long as I remember the government were deaf to these appeals; London (and dating from my boyhood, I reand it was remarked that Sloane, Home, member it more than forty years), at 16 Milman, Pepys, Davy, Halford, Cooper, Saville Row, a house for the last three years Hammick, and Holland, were created baro- occupied by Mr. Barnard Holt, the surgeon. nets only; while Blizard, Blicke, Penning- He sat then to see his patients, as to the last ton, and others were never more than he continued to sit, in the front parlor, the knights. No peers have been as yet created male patients being shown into the back out of the medical profession, though two parlor or dining-room, where from half a coronets were obtained by lawyers who in dozen to a dozen or fifteen gentlemen were mature life abandoned physic to woo Themis. ordinarily ranged between the hours of ten These were Sylvester Douglas, Lord Glen- and one o'clock. The lady patients, also bervie, alluded to by Sheridan in the well-numerous, were ushered up to the two drawknown lines