The Adventures of Philip

articles. We had really a snug little pension out of this Review, and we prayed

  it might last for ever. We might write a novel. We might contribute articles to

  a daily paper; get a little parliamentary practice as a barrister. We actually

  did get Philip into a railway case or two, and my wife must be coaxing and

  hugging solicitors' ladies, as she had wheedled and coaxed Members of

  Parliament. Why, I do believe my Dalilah set up a flirtation with old Bishop

  Crossticks, with an idea of getting her prot?g? a living; and though the lady

  indignatly repudiates this charge, will she be pleased to explain how the

  bishop's sermons were so outrageously praised in the Review?

  Philip's roughness and frankness did not displease Tregarvan, to the wonder of

  us all, who trembled lest he should lose this as he had lost his former place.

  Tregarvan had more country-houses than one, and at these not only was the editor

  of the Review made welcome, but the editor's wife and children, whom Tregarvan's

  wife took in especial regard. In London, Lady Mary had assemblies, where our

  little friend Charlotte made her appearance; and half-a-dozen times in the

  course of the season the wealthy Cornish gentleman feasted his retainers of the

  Review. His wine was excellent and old; his jokes were old, too; his table

  pompous, grave, plentiful. If Philip was to eat the bread of dependence, the

  loaf was here very kindly prepared for him; and he ate it humbly, and with not

  too much grumbling. This diet chokes some proud stomachs and disagrees with

  them; but Philip was very humble now, and of a nature grateful for kindness. He

  is one who requires the help of friends, and can accept benefits without losing

  independence??not all men's gifts, but some men's, whom he repays not only with

  coin, but with an immense affection and gratitude. How that man did laugh at my

  witticisms! How he worshipped the ground on which my wife walked! He elected

  himself our champion. He quarrelled with other people, who found fault with our

  characters, or would not see our perfections. There was something affecting in

  the way in which this big man took the humble place. We could do no wrong in his

  eyes; and woe betide the man who spoke disparagingly of us in his presence!

  One day, at his patron's table, Philip exercised his valour and championship in

  our behalf by defending us against the evil speaking of that Mr. Trail, who has

  been mentioned before as a gentleman difficult to please, and credulous of ill

  regarding his neighbour. The talk happened to fall upon the character of the

  reader's most humble servant, and Trail, as may be imagined, spared me no more

  than the rest of mankind. Would you like to be liked by all people? That would

  be a reason why Trail should hate you. Were you an angel fresh dropped from the

  skies, he would espy dirt on your robe, and a black feather or two in your wing.

  As for me, I know I am not angelical at all; and in walking my native earth,

  can't help a little mud on my trousers. Well: Mr. Trail began to paint my

  portrait, laying on those dark shadows which that well-known master is in the

  habit of employing. I was a parasite of the nobility; I was a heartless

  sycophant, house-breaker, drunkard, murderer, returned convict, With a little

  imagination, Mrs. Candour can fill up the outline, and arrange the colours so as

  to suit her amiable fancy.

  Philip had come late to dinner; of this fault, I must confess, he is guilty only

  too often. The company were at table; he took the only place vacant, and this

  happened to be at the side of Mr. Trail. On Trail's other side was a portly

  individual of a healthy and rosy countenance and voluminous white waistcoat, to

  whom Trail directed much of his amiable talk, and whom he addressed once or

  twice as Sir John. Once or twice already we have seen how Philip has quarrelled

  at table. He cried mea culpa loudly and honestly enough. He made vows of reform

  in this particular. He succeeded, dearly beloved brethren, not much worse or

  better than you and I do, who confess our faults, and go on promising to

  improve, and stumbling and picking ourselves up every day. The pavement of life

  is strewed with orange-peel; and who has not slipped on the flags?

  "He is the most conceited man in London,"??Trail was going on, "and one of the

  most worldly. He will throw over a colonel to dine with a general. He wouldn't

  throw over you two baronets??he is a great deal too shrewd a fellow for that. He

  wouldn't give you up, perhaps, to dine with a lord; but any ordinary baronet he

  would."

  "And why not us as well as the rest?" asks Tregarvan, who seemed amused at the

  speaker's chatter.

  "Because you are not like common baronets at all. Because your estates are a

  great deal too large. Because, I suppose, you might either of you go to the

  Upper House any day. Because, as an author, he may be supposed to be afraid of a

  certain Review," cries Trail, with a loud laugh.

  "Trail is speaking of a friend of yours," said the host, nodding and smiling to

  the new comer.

  "Very lucky for my friend," growls Philip, and eats his soup in silence.

  "By the way, that article of his on Madame de S?vign? is poor stuff. No

  knowledge of the period. Three gross blunders in French. A man can't write of

  French society unless he has lived in French society. What does Pendennis know

  of it? A man who makes blunders like those can't understand French. A man who

  can't speak French can't get on in French society. Therefore he can't write

  about French society. All these propositions are clear enough. Thank you. Dry

  champagne, if you please. He is enormously overrated, I tell you; and so is his

  wife. They used to put her forward as a beauty: and she is only a dowdy woman

  out of a nursery. She has no style about her."

  "She is only one of the best women in the world," Mr. Firmin called out, turning

  very red; and hereupon entered into a defence of our characters, and pronounced

  a eulogium upon both and each of us, in which I hope there was some little

  truth. However, he spoke with great enthusiasm, and Mr. Trail found himself in a

  minority.

  "You are right to stand up for your friends, Firmin!" cried the host. "Let me

  introduce you to??"

  "Let me introduce myself," said the gentleman on the other side of Mr. Trail.

  "Mr. Firmin, you and I are kinsmen,??I am Sir John Ringwood." And Sir John

  reached a hand to Philip across Trail's chair. They talked a great deal together

  in the course of the evening: and when Mr. Trail found that the great county

  gentleman was friendly and familiar with Philip, and claimed a relationship with

  him, his manner towards Firmin altered. He pronounced afterwards a warm eulogy

  upon Sir John for his frankness and good nature in recognizing his unfortunate

  relative, and charitably said, "Philip might not be like the doctor, and could

  not help having a rogue for a father." In former days, Trail had eaten and

  drunken freely at that rogue's table. But we must have truth, you know, before

  all things: and if your own brother has committed a sin, common justice requires

  that you should stone him.


  In former days, and not long after Lord Ringwood's death, Philip had left his

  card at this kinsman's door, and Sir John's butler, driving in his master's

  brougham, had left a card upon Philip, who was not over well pleased by this

  acknowledgment of his civility, and, in fact, employed abusive epithets when he

  spoke of the transaction. But when the two gentlemen actually met, their

  intercourse was kindly and pleasant enough. Sir John listened to his relative's

  talk??and it appears, Philip comported himself with his usual free and easy

  manner??with interest and curiosity; and owned afterwards that evil tongues had

  previously been busy with the young man's character, and that slander and

  untruth had been spoken regarding him. In this respect, if Philip is worse off

  than his neighbours, I can only say his neighbours are fortunate.

  Two days after the meeting of the cousins, the transquillity of Thornhaugh

  Street was disturbed by the appearance of a magnificent yellow chariot, with

  crests, hammer-cloths, a bewigged coachman, and a powdered footman. Betsy, the

  nurse, who was going to take baby out for a walk, encountered this giant on the

  threshold of Mrs. Brandon's door: and a lady within the chariot delivered three

  cards to the tall menial, who transferred them to Betsy. And Betsy persisted in

  saying that the lady in the carriage admired baby very much, and asked its age,

  at which baby's mamma was not in the least surprised. In due course, an

  invitation to dinner followed, and our friends became acquainted with their

  kinsfolk.

  If you have a good memory for pedigrees??and in my youthful time every man de

  bonne maison studied genealogies, and had his English families in his memory

  ??you know that this Sir John Ringwood, who succeeded to the principal portion

  of the estates, but not to the titles of the late earl, was descended from a

  mutual ancestor, a Sir John, whose elder son was ennobled (temp Geo. I.), whilst

  the second son, following the legal profession, became a judge, and had a son,

  who became a baronet, and who begat that present Sir John who has just been

  shaking hands with Philip across Trail's back. [Note: Copied, by permission of

  P. Firmin, Esq., from the Genealogical Tree in his possession.] Thus the two men

  were cousins; and in right of the heiress, his poor mother, Philip might quarter

  the Ringwood arms on his carriage whenever he drove out. These, you know, are

  argent, a dexter sinople on a fesse wavy of the first??or pick out, my dear

  friend, any coat you like out of the whole heraldic wardrobe, and accommodate it

  to our friend Firmin.

  When he was a young man at college, Philip had dabbled a little in this queer

  science of heraldry, and used to try and believe the legends about his ancestry,

  which his fond mother imparted to him. He had a great book-plate made for

  himself, with a prodigious number of quarterings, and could recite the alliances

  by which such and such a quartering came into his shield. His father rather

  confirmed these histories, and spoke of them and of his wife's noble family with

  much respect: and Philip, artlessly whispering to a vulgar boy at school that he

  was descended from King John, was thrashed very unkindly by the vulgar upper

  boy, and nicknamed King John for many a long day after. I daresay many other

  gentlemen who profess to trace their descent from ancient kings have no better

  or worse authority for their pedigree than friend Philip.

  When our friend paid his second visit to Sir John Ringwood, he was introduced to

  his kinsman's library; a great family tree hung over the mantelpiece, surrounded

  by a whole gallery of defunct Ringwoods, of whom the baronet was now the

  representative. He quoted to Philip the hackneyed old Ovidian lines (some score

  of years ago a great deal of that old coin was current in conversation). As for

  family, he said, and ancestors, and what we have not done ourselves, these

  things we can hardly call ours. Sir John gave Philip to understand that he was a

  staunch liberal. Sir John was for going with the age. Sir John had fired a shot

  from the Paris barricades. Sir John was for the rights of man everywhere all

  over the world. He had pictures of Franklin, Lafayette, Washington, and the

  first Consul Bonaparte, on his walls along with his ancestors. He had lithograph

  copies of Magna Charta, the Declaration of American Independence, and the

  Signatures to the Death of Charles I. He did not scruple to own his preference

  for republican institutions. He wished to know what right had any man??the late

  Lord Ringwood, for example??to sit in a hereditary House of Peers and legislate

  over him? That lord had had a son, Cinqbars, who died many years before, a

  victim of his own follies and debaucheries. Had Lord Cinqbars survived his

  father, he would now be sitting an earl in the House of Peers??the most ignorant

  young man, the most unprincipled young man, reckless, dissolute, of the feeblest

  intellect, and the worst life. Well, had he lived and inherited the Ringwood

  property, that creature would have been an earl: whereas he, Sir John, his

  superior in morals, in character, in intellect, his equal in point of birth (for

  had they not both a common ancestor?) was Sir John still. The inequalities in

  men's chances in life were monstrous and ridiculous. He was determined,

  henceforth, to look at a man for himself alone, and not esteem him for any of

  the absurd caprices of fortune.

  As the republican was talking to his relative, a servant came into the room and

  whispered to his master that the plumber had come with his bill as by

  appointment; upon which Sir John rose up in a fury, asked the servant how he

  dared to disturb him, and bade him tell the plumber to go to the lowest depths

  of Tartarus. Nothing could equal the insolence and rapacity of tradesmen, he

  said, except the insolence and idleness of servants; and he called this one

  back, and asked him how he dared to leave the fire in that state???stormed and

  raged at him with a volubility which astonished his new acquaintance; and, the

  man being gone, resumed his previous subject of conversation, viz., natural

  equality and the outrageous injustice of the present social system. After

  talking for half an hour, during which Philip found that he himself could hardly

  find an opportunity of uttering a word, Sir John took out his watch, and got up

  from his chair; at which hint Philip too rose, not sorry to bring the interview

  to an end. And herewith Sir John accompanied his kinsman into the hall, and to

  the street-door, before which the baronet's groom was riding, leading his

  master's horse. And Philip heard the baronet using violent language to the

  groom, as he had done to the servant within doors. Why, the army in Flanders did

  not swear more terribly than this admirer of republican institutions and

  advocate of the rights of man.

  Philip was not allowed to go away without appointing a day when he and his wife

  would partake of their kinsman's hospitality. On this occasion, Mrs. Philip

  comported herself with so much grace and simplicity, that Sir John and Lady

  Ringwood pronounced her to be a ve
ry pleasing and ladylike person; and I daresay

  wondered how a person in her rank of life could have acquired manners that were

  so refined and agreeable. Lady Ringwood asked after the child which she had

  seen, praised its beauty; of course, won the mother's heart, and thereby caused

  her to speak with perhaps more freedom than she would otherwise have felt at a

  first interview. Mrs. Philip has a dainty touch on the piano, and a sweet

  singing voice that is charmingly true and neat. She performed after dinner some

  of the songs of her little r?pertoire, and pleased her audience. Lady Ringwood

  loved good music, and was herself a fine performer of the ancient school, when

  she played Haydn and Mozart under the tuition of good old Sir George Thrum. The

  tall and handsome beneficed clergyman who acted as major-domo of Sir John's

  establishment, placed a parcel in the carriage when Mr. and Mrs. Philip took

  their leave, and announced with much respectful deference that the cab was paid.

  Our friends no doubt would have preferred to dispense with this ceremony; but it

  is ill looking even a gift cab-horse in the mouth, and so Philip was a gainer of

  some two shillings by his kinsman's liberality.

  When Charlotte came to open the parcel which majordomo, with his lady's

  compliments, had placed in the cab, I fear she did not exhibit that elation

  which we ought to feel for the favours of our friends. A couple of little

  frocks, of the cut of George IV., some little red shoes of the same period, some

  crumpled sashes, and other small articles of wearing apparel, by her ladyship's

  order by her ladyship's lady's-maid; and Lady Ringwood kissing Charlotte at her

  departure, told her that she had caused this little packet to be put away for

  her. "H'm," says Philip, only half pleased. "Suppose, Sir John had told his

  butler to put up one of his blue coats and brass buttons for me, as well as pay

  the cab?"

  "If it was meant in kindness, Philip, we must not be angry," pleaded Philip's

  wife;??"and I am sure if you had heard her and the Miss Ringwoods speak of baby,

  you would like them as I intend to do."

  But Mrs. Philip never put those mouldy old red shoes upon baby; and as for the

  little frocks, children's frocks are made so much fuller now that Lady

  Ringwood's presents did not answer at all. Charlotte managed to furbish up a

  sash, and a pair of epaulets for her child?? epaulets are they called?

  Shoulder-knots??what you will, ladies; and with these ornaments Miss Firmin was

  presented to Lady Ringwood and some of her family.

  The goodwill of these new-found relatives of Philip's was laborious, was

  evident, and yet I must say was not altogether agreeable. At the first period of

  their intercourse??for this, too, I am sorry to say, came to an end, or

  presently suffered interruption??tokens of affection in the shape of farm

  produce, country butter and poultry, and actual butcher's meat, came from

  Berkeley Square to Thornhaugh Street. The Duke of Double-Glo'ster I know is much

  richer than you are; but if he were to offer to make you a present of

  half-a-crown, I doubt whether you would be quite pleased. And so with Philip and

  his relatives. A hamper brought in the brougham, containing hot-house grapes and

  country butter is very well, but a leg of mutton I own was a gift that was

  rather tough to swallow. It was tough. That point we ascertained and established

  amongst roars of laughter one day when we dined with our friends. Did Lady

  Ringwood send a sack of turnips in the brougham too? In a word, we ate Sir

  John's mutton, and we laughed at him, and be sure many a man has done the same

  by you and me. Last Friday, for instance, as Jones and Brown go away after

  dining with your humble servant. "Did you ever see such profusion and

  extravagance?" asks Brown. "Profusion and extravagance!" cries Jones, that

  well-known epicure. "I never saw anything so shabby in my life. What does the