, who have not some strong passion, some germ of what
is called romance, hidden more or less deeply in our natures. All the
passion and romance in the nature of my Uncle George lay in his love and
admiration for my father.

He sincerely worshipped his eldest brother as one of the noblest of
human beings. When my father was engaged to be married, and when the
rest of the family, as I have already mentioned, did not hesitate to
express their unfavorable opinion of the disposition of his chosen wife,
Uncle George, who had never ventured on differing with anyone before,
to the amazement of everybody, undertook the defense of his future
sister-in-law in the most vehement and positive manner. In his
estimation, his brother's choice was something sacred and indisputable.
The lady might, and did, treat him with unconcealed contempt, laugh at
his awkwardness, grow impatient at his stammering--it made no difference
to Uncle George. She was to be his brother's wife, and, in virtue of
that one great fact, she became, in the estimation of the poor surgeon,
a very queen, who, by the laws of the domestic constitution, could do no
wrong.

When my father had been married a little while, he took his youngest
brother to live with him as his assistant.

If Uncle George had been made president of the College of Surgeons, he
could not have been prouder and happier than he was in his new position.
I am afraid my father never understood the depth of his brother's
affection for him. All the hard work fell to George's share: the long
journeys at night, the physicking of wearisome poor people, the drunken
cases, the revolting cases--all the drudging, dirty business of the
surgery, in short, was turned over to him; and day after day, month
after month, he struggled through it without a murmur. When his brother
and his sister-in-law went out to dine with the county gentry, it never
entered his head to feel disappointed at being left unnoticed at home.
When the return dinners were given, and he was asked to come in at
tea-time, and left to sit unregarded in a corner, it never occurred to
him to imagine that he was treated with any want of consideration or
respect. He was part of the furniture of the house, and it was the
business as well as the pleasure of his life to turn himself to any use
to which his brother might please to put him.

So much for what I have heard from others on the subject of my Uncle
George. My own personal experience of hi