# Stories after Nature/Philippo and Bruno; or, Genius and Common Sense

PHILIPPO AND BRUNO; or, Genius and Common Sense.
HERE lived in Naples a man of mean fortune, who had two sons, both remarkable for their prominency of character, considering the manner after which they had been brought up. Being a bustling man, of low trade, he felt (as most such people do, from the necessity of custom) more for their worldly interests, and respectable doing in life, than for their state of mind, and natural dispositions.
Philippo, the eldest, was placed to the business of a clothier; but, as the common saying went, he did not take to it. Indeed, the general opinion of him was, that he was of a confirmed idle disposition, of deep passions, though behaving in every respect well, never giving offence to any one, except in his inattention to business. ​He therefore came back to his father's house, profitless and useless, but not worthless; for there was something in his disposition that would not suffer him to be ashamed of his conduct. When he was spoken to seriously on the matter, he answered, that all men could not endure to rise in the morning at daylight, and do nothing till set of sun but examine the woof of broad cloth, try the dye of it, and measure it by yards into parcels (and he stripped his muscular arm in proof of it); and said, that that, and killing all the moths to be found in his master's shop, was all he had done for two lingering years. Though all rated or laughed at him, he still persisted in it.
It happened soon after, that the king of Naples intended to be crowned; and having but few jewels in his treasury, he manned two vessels; sending one to traffic with the Moors, and another to Araby, for valuables of the greatest rarity. It happened that both vessels returned, and met at a certain point within sight of Naples; but a storm, in all the turbulence of wrath, broke over them, so that they went to the bottom suddenly, being grappled together. The king, vexed at the matter, and feeling the loss of so much money from his treasury, offered an immense reward to any one who would con​trive some means by which to raise the treasure, so that it might be restored. But in those days, this was a matter of fiction, and considered to be so unaccountable an undertaking, that all, thinking it not to be practicable without the aid of magic, declined it.
Now Philippo had just been reproved by his friends, and called an idle fellow, as well as unfeeling, for still wasting, by his daily hunger, the slender means of his old father; and, with a heart bitter against fate and man, and full of pain, he heard of this reward. He went into the slip of garden at the back of the house, and thought deeply of the matter; and sent at once to the king, saying he would undertake it, and be ready in seven days to try the effects of his invention. He fagged night and day at it, and was prepared at the time. But his friends laughed at him, and counselled him, part out of envy, lest he even might succeed; some out of meanness, that a youth of his estate should attempt strong matters, out of his sphere; and many, from a secret vanity and petty love of power, at being able to bestow their self-soothing advice upon one already out of favor with every body; and with the irritable desire of making him discontented with himself (like true worldly friends). And all because they forgot ​that few things are impossible with man, and nothing with God; and because they could not bear that any one (much less one despised) should accomplish what they had not the courage even to attempt. But he was not meant for a clothier, and could not repent and turn back.
Coming to the trial, he behaved himself with great courage and perseverance, and succeeded to a certain, but very limited degree; so that it was indeed (as expected) a decided failure. The king, being deeply interested in it, attended; and, like most great (that is, rich and powerful) but inconsiderate men, from habits of commanding and being obeyed, had soothed himself into certain hopes of success, which, when they were blighted, turned all to the fury of disappointment. Calling Philippo before him, he reproved him for the great loss he had put him to, and charged him with ignorance and folly. But Philippo, whose sagacity and vigilance were roused, and who for the first time was in earnest, saw plainly, that the king was enraged only at not having got back his valuables, and secretly in his heart no way abused him.
Knowing the worth of the ships sunk to be uppermost, and a great matter in the king's ​mind, he talked coolly with him; telling him he had observed what part of the works had failed, in the great practice and trial of the whole, which he never could do in his small chamber; and that, if the king would advance him more money to defray the expenses, he would again undertake it, and try, with his improved knowledge, to do it with more success. After more words, and some hesitation, the king consented to it. Philippo, not at all faint-hearted, but inveterately determined on gaining his purpose, began with renewed courage (notwithstanding the sneers and scoffings of those about him) to labour in his design, and when the time came, he again tried it; and, though with more success, yet with certain failure; so that the king grew disgusted, and was crowned in such common dresses as could be got for him.
Philippo's father, seeing him ridiculed for his folly, and laughed at by all, joined (like a man of business) in the cry, and drove him from his house to try his fortune, and live (like the birds of heaven) as he could. But he, deaf to their folly, and dumb to their malice, was above them; having such deep grief of mind at his failure, that he thought not of them, and went beating his head, and cursing himself for a beast, at the smallness of his wit.
​Being reduced to beggary, having no shoes to his feet, and in ragged apparel, he sat himself by the road side, and began to think, the king's passion being subsided, how much of his desire to re-possess the treasure still remained. Seeing his deplorable condition, he said to himself, "I have thought of nothing but doing this thing ever since. Albeit I am almost out of hope, yet am I in so low a state that I can lose nothing. I will go to the king once more, and will endeavour to awaken his sympathy for what has befallen me, in being driven from my father's roof; and also revive the great hopes (in naming which I will use my tongue eloquently) that may still attend this one attempt." When he came to the king, he pitied him not, and listened to his hopes as we do to the memory of one who is dead, and forbade him his presence. But Philippo, lingering at the gate till some hours after, when the king came out, dropped upon his knee, and said, "If I do not succeed, banish me forth of Naples. But, I pray thee, let me once more try my hitherto evil fortune." The king, from his earnestness and great desire, was once more deluded into the hope of success; ordered the money to be given him, and that he should try again. But out, alas! he failed again: and yet so reasonable ​and mature had his plan become, that he was within a little space of success. Now the king, cursing his own folly, banished him for nine years; and Philippo was laughed at by all who knew him.
He left Naples with a heavy heart, and went into Florence; where (not being able to go to any business, despising it, and being of a robust make) he laboured in gardens and vineyards, and worked in the harvest; but evermore having in sight the point where the ships had sunk, and his great design.
When five years were expired, war was raging furiously at Naples, and the king and country were in imminent danger; the king having only a handful of troops at command, and no money to fee others to assist him. Philippo, full of his ancient courage and fortitude, buckled on a belt and thereto a sword, and covering himself with a pilgrim's habit, went, through many dangers, to Naples; and going to the king's tent, he reported himself as one who could assist him in his exigencies. Being admitted, and alone with the king, he disclosed himself and his purpose; saying, "My life is forfeit; if you please, destroy me. But I pray you have faith in me only this once." And, after some talk, the king said to him, "I am full of wonder at thy great determi​nation; it should seem nothing can alter thy purpose: but I have been thrice duped by thee, and I must be wary. I now offer thee thy liberty if thou wilt go; if not, I will spare thee money to try once more; but as it is as precious to me at this time as drops of blood, so shall thy blood answer the loss of it. If thou succeedest, thou shalt have thrice the reward offered to thee hitherto, considering the greatness of my need; if not, thy head shall be struck off with an axe. Decide therefore on thy fate." Philippo accepted the king's offer, went immediately, and drew up the treasure, and secured all; so that the king gathered an army thereby, and fought a great battle, and drove off the enemy. Then he called Philippo to him, paying him the great reward without grudging, and put him in trust.
Philippo went to his father, embraced him, and made him the steward of his fortunes; and gave a feast and gifts to those who had called themselves his friends, saying to them, "Let old matters be forgotten, and let us become better known to each other in future." So that they were covered with shame.
Thus we see that the world may be wrong in its judgment: that drapers and clothiers are not the greatest men: and that a resolved soul ​is the tough cable to anchor us through life with some safety; or to teach us to bear defeat with power; and is one of the next things under fate.
Now the brother, who was called Bruno, from the difference of his nature, had treated the idleness of Philippo with contempt; and was always the first to level little unpleasant truisms at him, to endeavour to arouse him to a sense of his worldly perdition. Bruno was stationed in the house of a merchant, as a poor assistant at the books; but, making business his god, he was always at hand, being present from light till dark, and labouring with devotion at all times. From this he became useful; and those above him, feeling they could repose all trust in him, neglected many things for their pleasures that they otherwise would not have done; so that from being useful he became invaluable, and of course rose according to his importance. Having been in the concern a short time, both the other parties died, and left him master of a most wealthy business, of which he made the most; taking no one in to relieve him, but working in the same way as when he had come to it the first day. He thought not of his banished brother, nor cared for him; advancing such only as were the most industrious in his affairs.
​Surely there is no heart so hard, so unforgiving towards impassioned minds, or even unsuccessful genius itself, as that of a man who sinks his feelings in his trade, and sees not beyond the petty sphere of his wary, bustling, worldly interests; nor are there any, that genius and liberality would feel more pain at being relieved by, than such characters.
Bruno, however, held the stakes of fortune but a short time: his success was of him, and not in him: it rested too much upon the chances of outward circumstance to challenge implicit faith: it was not the breed of his own brain: his brother's was. When the war began, he lost an argosy. His factors failed him abroad, and trade was at an end at home: the ladder was shaken, and he came down, rolling at his brother's foot.
Philippo, after his success, took him out of prison, fed and clothed him, gave him money, got him into the king's household, and did all that a brother should do.