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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 527
and kicked at his work. He would chafe not seldom at the daily
drudgery, and have his fits of revolt and despondency. Well?
Have others not had to toil, to bow the proud head, and cany the
daily burden ? Don't you see Pegasus, who was going to win the plate,
a weary, broken-knee'd, broken-down old cab-hack shivering in the
rank ; or a sleek gelding, mayhap, pacing under a corpulent master
in Rotten Row ? Philip's crust began to be scanty, and was dipped
in bitter waters. I am not going to make a long story of this part
of his career, or parade my friend as too hungry and poor. He is
safe now, and out of all peril, Heaven be thanked ! but he had to
pass through hard times, and to look out very wistfully lest the
wolf should enter at the door. He never laid claim to be a man of
genius, nor was he a successful quack who could pass as a man of
genius. When there were French prisoners in England, we know
how stout old officers who had plied their sabres against Mamelouks,
or Russians, or Germans, were fain to carve little gimcracks in
bone with their penknives, or make baskets and boxes of chipped
straw, and piteously sell them to casual visitors to their prison.
Philip was poverty's prisoner. He had to make such shifts, and do
such work, as he could find in his captivity. I do not think men
who have undergone the struggle and served the dire task-master,
like to look back and recall the grim apprenticeship. When Philip
says now, " What fools we were to marry, Char !" she looks up
radiantly, with love and happiness in her eyes—looks up to Heaven,
and is thankful ; but grief and sadness come over her husband's
face at the thought of those days of pain and gloom. She may
soothe him, and he may be thankful too ; but the wounds are still
there which were dealt to him in the cruel battle with fortune.
Men are ridden down in it. Men are poltroons and run. Men
maraud, break ranks, are guilty of meanness, cowardice, shabby
plunder. Men are raised to rank and honour, or drop and perish
unnoticed on the field. Happy he who comes from it with his
honour pure ! Philip did not win crosses and epaulets. He is like
us, my dear sir, not an heroic genius at all. And it is to be hoped
that all three have behaved with an average pluck, and have been
guilty of no meanness, or treachery, or desertion. Did you behave
otherwise, what would wife and children say ? As for Mrs. Philip,
I tell you she thinks to this day that there is no man like her
husband, and is ready to fall down and worship the boots in which
he walks.
How do men live ? How is rent paid ? How docs the dinner
come day after day ? As a rule there is dinner. You might live
longer with less of it, but you can't go without it and live long.
How did my neighbour 23 earn his carriage, and how did 24 pay