In the first place, the Browns are a fighting family. One may question
their wisdom, or wit, or beauty, but about their fight there can be no
question. Wherever hard knocks of any kind, visible or invisible, are
going; there the Brown who is nearest must shove in his carcass.
And these carcasses, for the most part, answer very well to the
characteristic propensity: they are a squareheaded and snake-necked
generation, broad in the shoulder, deep in the chest, and thin in
the flank, carrying no lumber. Then for clanship, they are as bad as
Highlanders; it is amazing the belief they have in one another.
With them there is nothing like the Browns, to the third and fourth
generation. "Blood is thicker than water," is one of their pet sayings.
They can't be happy unless they are always meeting one another. Never
were such people for family gatherings; which, were you a stranger, or
sensitive, you might think had better not have been gathered together.
For during the whole time of their being together they luxuriate in
telling one another their minds on whatever subject turns up; and their
minds are wonderfully antagonistic, and all their opinions are downright
beliefs. Till you've been among them some time and understand them, you
can't think but that they are quarrelling. Not a bit of it. They love
and respect one another ten times the more after a good set family
arguing bout, and go back, one to his curacy, another to his chambers,
and another to his regiment, freshened for work, and more than ever
convinced that the Browns are the height of company.

This family training, too, combined with their turn for combativeness,
makes them eminently quixotic. They can't let anything alone which they
think going wrong. They must speak their mind about it, annoying all
easy-going folk, and spend their time and money in having a tinker at
it, however hopeless the job. It is an impossibility to a Brown to leave