Kenelm Chillingly | Page 7

out what kind of fishes these are," said the
Rev. John Stalworth. "They are certainly not pike which formed the
emblematic blazon of the Hotofts, and are still grim enough to frighten
future Shakspeares on the scutcheon of the Warwickshire Lucys."
"I believe they are tenches," said Mr. Mivers. "The tench is a fish that
knows how to keep itself safe by a philosophical taste for an obscure
existence in deep holes and slush."
SIR PETER.--"No, Mivers; the fishes are dace, a fish that, once
introduced into any pond, never can be got out again. You may drag the
water; you may let off the water; you may say, 'Those dace are
extirpated,'--vain thought!--the dace reappear as before; and in this
respect the arms are really emblematic of the family. All the disorders
and revolutions that have occurred in England since the Heptarchy have

left the Chillinglys the same race in the same place. Somehow or other
the Norman Conquest did not despoil them; they held fiefs under Eudo
Dapifer as peacefully as they had held them under King Harold; they
took no part in the Crusades, nor the Wars of the Roses, nor the Civil
Wars between Charles the First and the Parliament. As the dace sticks
to the water and the water sticks by the dace, so the Chillinglys stuck to
the land and the land stuck by the Chillinglys. Perhaps I am wrong to
wish that the new Chillingly may be a little less like a dace."
"Oh!" cried Miss Margaret, who, mounted on a chair, had been
inspecting the pedigree through an eye-glass, "I don't see a fine
Christian name from the beginning, except Oliver."
SIR PETER.--"That Chillingly was born in Oliver Cromwell's
Protectorate, and named Oliver in compliment to him, as his father,
born in the reign of James I., was christened James. The three fishes
always swam with the stream. Oliver!--Oliver not a bad name, but
significant of radical doctrines."
Mr. MIVERS.--"I don't think so. Oliver Cromwell made short work of
radicals and their doctrines; but perhaps we can find a name less awful
and revolutionary."
"I have it! I have it!" cried the Parson. "Here is a descent from Sir
Kenelm Digby and Venetia Stanley. Sir Kenelm Digby! No finer
specimen of muscular Christianity. He fought as well as he wrote;
eccentric, it is true, but always a gentleman. Call the boy Kenelm!"
"A sweet name," said Miss Sibyl: "it breathes of romance."
"Sir Kenelm Chillingly! It sounds well,--imposing!" said Miss
Margaret.
"And," remarked Mr. Mivers, "it has this advantage--that while it has
sufficient association with honourable distinction to affect the mind of
the namesake and rouse his emulation, it is not that of so stupendous a
personage as to defy rivalry. Sir Kenelm Digby was certainly an
accomplished and gallant gentleman; but what with his silly

superstition about sympathetic powders, etc., any man nowadays might
be clever in comparison without being a prodigy. Yes, let us decide on
Kenelm."
Sir Peter meditated. "Certainly," said he, after a pause, "certainly the
name of Kenelm carries with it very crotchety associations; and I am
afraid that Sir Kenelm Digby did not make a prudent choice in
marriage. The fair Venetia was no better than she should be; and I
should wish my heir not to be led away by beauty but wed a woman of
respectable character and decorous conduct."
Miss MARGARET.--"A British matron, of course!"
THREE SISTERS (in chorus).--"Of course! of course!"
"But," resumed Sir Peter, "I am crotchety myself, and crotchets are
innocent things enough; and as for marriage the Baby cannot marry
to-morrow, so that we have ample time to consider that matter. Kenelm
Digby was a man any family might be proud of; and, as you say, sister
Margaret, Kenelm Chillingly does not sound amiss: Kenelm Chillingly
it shall be!"
The Baby was accordingly christened Kenelm, after which ceremony
its face grew longer than before.
CHAPTER V.
BEFORE his relations dispersed, Sir Peter summoned Mr. Gordon into
his library.
"Cousin," said he, kindly, "I do not blame you for the want of family
affection, or even of humane interest, which you exhibit towards the
New-born."
"Blame me, Cousin Peter! I should think not. I exhibit as much family
affection and humane interest as could be expected from
me,--circumstances considered."

"I own," said Sir Peter, with all his wonted mildness, "that after
remaining childless for fourteen years of wedded life, the advent of this
little stranger must have occasioned you a disagreeable surprise. But,
after all, as I am many years younger than you, and in the course of
nature shall outlive you, the loss is less to yourself than to your son,
and upon that I wish to say a few words. You know too well the
conditions on which I hold my