between the rights and powers of men. But it will be remembered that
the real peers of England are a very small class. As a body they
have neither the wealth, the blood, nor numbers, on their side. I
met, not long since, on the continent, a gentleman of the name of
G——, who was the head of a very ancient and affluent family, in his
own county. In the same place there happened to be a Lord G——, the
descendant of three or four generations of peers. It was rather
matter of merriment to the lookers on, that Lord G—— was very anxious
to be considered as belonging to the family of Mr. G——, while the
latter was a little disposed to repudiate him. Now, it needs no
demonstration to prove that the peer enjoyed but a very equivocal
social superiority over his namesake, the commoner. Admitting them
to be of the same root, the latter was the head of the family, he
had the oldest and the largest estate, and, in all but his political
rank, he was the better man. It is quite obvious, under such
circumstances, that the legal distinction counts for but little, in a
merely social point of view.
The fact is that the gentry of England, as a class, are noble,
agreeably to the standard of the rest of Europe. It is true they
want the written evidences of their rank, because few such have ever
been granted in England except to the titled;[2] but they have every
requisite that is independent of positive law. Of all the Howards
descended from the “Jockey of Norfolk,” and they are numerous, both
in England and America, only four or five are esteemed noble, because
no more possess peerages; and, yet, when we come to consider them as
heirs of blood, it would be folly not to deem one as gentle as the
rest.
Thus you see England is filled with those who have all the usual
claims to birth, and in many cases that of primogeniture too, without
enjoying any legal privileges, beyond the mere possession of their
fortunes. The Earl of Surrey, the heir of the first peer of England,
is just as much a commoner, in the eye of the law, as his butler. It
is not the legal distinctions alone, therefore, that divide men into
social castes in England, as on the continent of Europe, but opinion,
and habit, and facts, as all are connected with origin, antiquity,
estates, and manners. It is true that a peer enjoys a certain
positive political consideration from the mere circumstance of his
being a peer; and just as far as this class extends, the assertion
that their privileges put them above jealousies, is, I believe, true.
I ascribe the circumstance that an American will be more likely to
meet with a proper degree of civility among the nobles of England
than among the classes beneath them, to this very fact. But the
number of the rigidly noble is too small, to give its character to a
society as broad and as peculiar as that of England. They exist in
it, themselves, as exceptions rather than as the rule.
If we remove the titled from English society, the principles of its
formation and government are precisely the same as our own, however
much the latter may be modified by circumstances. It is true, the
fact that there is a small body at the summit of the social scale,
protected in their position by positive ordinances, has an effect
to render the whole system more factitious and constrained than it
would otherwise be, but, nevertheless, with these distinctions, it
is identical with our own. Though these privileged are not enough to
give society its tone, they form its goal. The ambition of being in
contact with them, the necessity of living in their circle, and their
real superiority are the causes of the _shoving propensities_ of the
English, propensities that are so obvious and unpleasant as to render
their association distinct from that of almost every other people.
The arbitrary separation of the community between the gentle and the
simple prevents these efforts in the other parts of Europe, nor is it
any where else so obvious as among ourselves.[3] I take it that it
exists with us (though in an infinitely lessened degree) because we
are subject to so many of the same causes.
The moment you create a motive for this irritating social ambition,
and supply the means of its gratification, a serious injury is
given to the ease, nature and grace of society. In England the
motive exists in the wish to mingle with the privileged classes,
and the means in the peculiar character of the gentry, in the great
prosperity of the commerce and manufactures of the country, and in
the insensible manner in which all the classes glide into each other
and intermingle.
There is much to admire in the fruits of such a social organization,
while there is, also, a great deal to condemn. A principal benefit
is the superior elevation and training that are imparted to those,
who, under other systems, would be kept always in a condition of
dependant degradation; and one of its principal disadvantages is
the constant moral fermentation, that so sensibly impairs the charm
and nature of the English circles. A looker-on here, has described
the social condition of England to be that of a crowd ascending a
ladder, in which every one is tugging at the skirts of the person
above, while he puts his foot on the neck of him beneath. After the
usual allowances, there is truth in this figure, and you will, at
once, perceive, that its consequences are to cause a constant social
scuffle. When men (and more especially _women_) meet under the
influence of such a strife, too much time is wasted in the indulgence
of the minor and lower feelings, to admit of that free and generous
communion that can alone render intercourse easy and agreeable. There
must be equality of feeling to permit equality of deportment, and
this can never exist in such a _mêlée_.
Nor is the English noble always as absolutely natural and simple
as it is the fashion to say he is, or as he might possibly be
demonstrated to be by an ingenious theory. Simple he is certainly in
mere deportment, for this is absolute as a rule of good breeding; and
he may be simple in dress, for the same law now obtains generally,
in this particular; and, if it did not, in his peculiar position, it
would be the old story of the _redingotte gris_ of Napoleon revived;
but he is not quite so simple in all his habits and pretensions. I
will give you a few laughable proofs of the contrary.
A dozen noblemen may have laid their own patrician hands on my
knocker, within a fortnight. As I use the dining-room to write in,
I am within fifteen feet of the street door, and no favour of this
sort escapes my ears. Ridiculous as it may seem, there is a species
of etiquette established, by which a peer shall knock louder than
a commoner! I do not mean to tell you that parliament has passed a
law to that effect, but I do mean to say that so accurate has my ear
become, that I know a Lord by his knock, as one would know Velluti
by his touch. Now a loud knock may be sometimes useful as a hint to
a loitering servant, but it was a queer thought to make it a test of
station.
I had occasion to go into the country, a day or two since, with
two ladies. On our return, the latter asked permission to leave
cards, at one or two doors in the way. The footman was particularly
cautioned about his rap, one of the ladies explaining to me, that
the fellow had got a loud knock by living with Lord ——. Quite lately
too, I saw an article in the Courier complaining of the knocks
of the doctors, who were said to disturb their patients by their
_tintamarres_ and, moreover, were accused, in terms, of rapping as
loud as noblemen!
While on the subject, I may as well add, that no one, but the inmates
of the house, uses the bell in London, although there is always one.
The postman, the beggar, the footman, the visitor, all have their
respective raps, and all are noticed according to their several
degrees of clamour. I walked into Berkeley Square, yesterday, to
leave cards for Lord and Lady G——. Determined to try an experiment,
I knocked as modestly as possible, without descending quite as low
as the beggar. At that hour, there were always two footmen in the
hall of the house, and I saw the arm of one at the window, quite near
the door. He did not budge. I waited fully two minutes, and raised
the note, a little, but with no better success. I then rapped _à la
peer of the realm_, and my hand was still on the knocker, as the
lazy rogue opened the door. I think I could already point out divers
other petty usages of this nature, but shall defer the account of
them, until my opinions are confirmed by longer observation. In the
meanwhile, these trifling examples have led me away from the main
subject.
A chief effect of the social struggles of England is a factitious and
laboured manner. As respects mere deportment, the higher ranks, and
they who most live in their intimacy, as a matter of course, are the
least influenced by mere forms. But, as one descends in the social
scale, I think the English get to be much the most artificial people
I know. Instead of recognising certain great and governing rules
for deportment, that are obviously founded in reason and propriety,
and trusting to nature for the rest, having heard that simplicity
is a test of breeding, they are even elaborate and studied in its
display. The mass of the people conduct in society like children who
have had their hair combed and faces washed, to be exhibited in the
drawing-room, or with a staid simplicity that reminds you always how
little they are at their ease, and of the lectures of the nurse.
I have seen eight or ten men sitting at a dinner-table for two hours,
with their hands in their laps, their bodies dressed like grenadiers,
and their words mumbled between their teeth, evidently for no reason
in the world but the fact they had been told that quiet and subdued
voices were the tone of the higher classes. This boarding-school
finish goes much further than you would be apt to think in London
society, though it is almost unnecessary to say, it is less seen in
the upper classes than elsewhere, for no man accustomed to live
with his equals, and to consider none as his betters, let him come
from what country he may, will ever be the slave of arbitrary rules,
beyond the point of reason, or no further than they contribute to his
ease, and comfort, and tastes.
Something of this factitious spirit, however, extends itself all
through English society, since a portion of even the higher classes
have a desire to distinguish themselves by their habits. Thus it
is that we find great stress laid on naked points of deportment,
as tests of breeding and associations, that would be laughed at
elsewhere, and which, while they are esteemed imperious during their
reign, come in and going out periodically, like fashions in dress. Of
course, some little of this folly is to be found in all countries,
but so much more, I think, is to be found here, than any where else,
as to render the trait national and distinctive.
While there is all this rigid and inexorable tyranny of custom
in small things, there is also apparent, in English manners, an
effort to carry out the dogmas of the new school, by ultra ease and
nature. The union of the two frequently forms as odd a jumble of
deportment as one might wish to see. I think it is the cause of the
capriciousness, for which these people have a reputation. I have had
a visit from a young man of some note here, and one who lives fully
one-half his time, by these conventional rules, and yet, in the
spirit of ease, which is thought to pervade modern manners, he seated
himself a-straddle of his chair, with his face turned inwards, in a
first visit, and in the presence of ladies! Still this person is well
connected, and a member of parliament. He reminded me of the man who
advertised a horse to be seen, with its tail where the head ought to
be. The rogue had merely haltered the animal, wrong end foremost,
to the manger. Sitting on the floor, with the foot in a hand, or
suspiciously like a tailor, is by no means unusual.
When one gets at all above the commoner classes in England, it
strikes me there is much less of obtrusive vulgarity than with us,
while there is much more of the easy impertinence of which I have
just given a specimen. This is contrary to our own experience of
the English, but we see few above a class that is quite below all
comment, in describing a nation. In two or three instances, in
houses where I have made first visits, I have observed the young
men lolling at their length on the ottomans and sofas, and scarcely
giving themselves the trouble to rise, in a way that would hardly
be practised at Paris. Such things are disrespectful to strangers,
and in exceedingly bad taste, and I think them quite English;
still, you are not to suppose that they are absolutely common
here, though they are more frequent than could be wished. I have
seen them in noblemen’s houses. But the go-by-rule simplicity, you
will understand, is so common, in the imitative classes, as to be
distinctive.
As for the remark of there being no society in London, it may be true
as a rule, but there are glorious exceptions. An American, after all,
is so much like an Englishman, and one has so much more pleasure in
the interchange of thought, when the conversation is carried on in
his own language, that I ought, perhaps, to distrust my tastes a
little; but taking them as a criterion, I should say that the means
of social and intellectual pleasures are quite as amply enjoyed in
London, as in the capital of France. The dinners are not as easy,
especially while the women are at table, but either I have fallen
into a peculiar vein of breakfasts, or the breakfasts have fallen
into my vein, for I have found some twenty of them, at which I have
already been present, among so many of the pleasantest entertainments
I have ever met with. It will scarcely do for us to affect disdain
for the society of London, whatever may be the rights of a Frenchman
in this respect.
Mr. Rogers, who is my near neighbour, you already know, asked me a
second and a third time, in the course of a few days, and on each
occasion I had the pleasure of seeing a few of the prominent men of
the country. The first day I met Lord John Russell, and the second
Sir James M‘Intosh. One seldom hears of a distinguished man, without
forming some notion, erroneous or not, of his exterior. I knew
little of the former of these gentlemen, beyond the fact that he was
rather prominent in opposition, and that he had enrolled himself
on the page of letters; but I had been told he was conspicuous for
a “bull-dog tenacity” in clinging to his object and in carrying his
point. The term “bull-dog,” and some vague notion of the Russells of
old, led me to expect a man of thews and sinews, and one adapted,
by his _physique_, to carry out the lofty designs of a vigorous
intellect. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Lord John Russell
is a small, quiet man, with an air of ill-health, reminding me a
little, in his mouth and manner of speaking, of Captain Ridgley of
the navy, though the latter has altogether the best physique. He
complained of his health, and talked but little. I remember one of
his remarks, however, for he said that parliament was “getting too
thin-skinned” for a healthful state of things. Did he mean to compare
the present times with those in which his illustrious ancestor lost
his head?
Sir James M‘Intosh I had figured a robust, brawny, negligent Scot,
with a broad accent, and strong national peculiarities. Instead
of realizing this picture, he appeared a man of good stature,
and, considering his years, of an easy and graceful person, with
somewhat of an air of the world, and with as little of Scottish
provincialism as was necessary. His voice was gentle and pleasant,
and it was quite difficult, though not impossible, to trace any of
the marks of his origin in his speech. Of these he had much less
even than Sir Walter Scott. He proved to be the best talker I have
ever heard. I am acquainted with a Neapolitan, who is more eloquent
in conversation, and Colonel C——, of Georgia, is perhaps neater and
closer in his modes of expressing himself, but neither discovers the
same range of thought and information, through a medium as lucid,
comprehensive, and simple. Sir James M‘Intosh is a free, but by no
means an oppressive, talker in company. He is full of material, and,
evidently, is willing to give it vent, but he also is content to
listen. I greatly prefer his oral to his written style. I believe
the former would be thought the best, could it be written down as he
utters his words. The bias of his mind is to philosophy, in which
he is both comprehensive and ingenious, and it appears to me that
he makes himself more clearly intelligible in conversation than on
paper. It is very true that abstrusities occur in reasoning that
require the closet to be comprehended, and which best suit the pen,
while it would be a defect to exact the same attention in society;
but what I mean is, that (in my estimation) Sir James M‘Intosh
would be mere likely to express the same thought felicitously while
conversing, than in deliberately committing it to paper.
That he entertains some such notion of himself I have reason to
think by a remark he made, on quitting the table yesterday. We had
been speaking of the powers of the different distinguished orators
of England and America, and some comparisons had been made between
Pitt, and Fox, and Burke, and Sheridan. “After all,” observed Sir
James, as we went out together, “conversation is the test of a man’s
powers. If it is in him, he can bring it out, and all are witnesses
of the manner in which it is done.” Too much importance ought not
to be attached to a casual remark like this, but the opinion struck
me as singularly in opposition to Addison’s celebrated answer about
his inability to pay a shilling on the spot, while he could draw for
a thousand pounds. In this manner are we all influenced by our own
personal qualities; Addison could write better than M‘Intosh, and
M‘Intosh could talk better than Addison. A man may certainly have
it in him, and not always be able to bring it out, as is proved by
thousands besides Addison.
I found Sir James M‘Intosh better informed on the subject of America
than any European I have yet seen. His ideas of our condition are
more accurate and more precise. He spoke of several of our jurists
with commendation; not in the extravagant and exaggerated manner
that is so much in fashion at home, but with moderate respect, and
frankly. All this time, however, it was quite evident that he thought
us a people who might yet do prodigies, rather than as a people who
had performed them.
Mr. Rogers introduced the subject of American poetry. By general
consent, it was silently agreed to treat all who had gone before the
last ten years, as if they had not written. I named to them Messrs.
Halleck and Bryant, of neither of whom did they appear to know any
thing. In consequence of something that had previously fallen from
our host, I had obtained an imperfect copy of light American poetry,
from Mr. Miller, the bookseller. It contained Alnwick Castle, as
well as several things by Mr. Bryant. I left it with them, and both
gentlemen subsequently expressed themselves much pleased with what
they found in it. Alnwick Castle, in particular, had great success,
but I do not think the book itself did justice to Mr. Bryant.
While speaking of Mr. Rogers, I cannot avoid adverting to the
manner in which a portion of the London press is in the practice of
using his name. One of them especially, constantly speaks of him
as a confirmed jester. I have been told there is a private pique
and a malicious envy, in all this, and that he is represented as
a jester because he has a peculiar aversion to jests. The motive
is self-evident, and of itself places the offending party below a
serious refutation. But, lest you may have imbibed some erroneous
notions, in this respect, concerning a man whose name is familiar to
all America, there may be no harm in giving you a traveller’s views
of the matter. Mr. Rogers is neither a jester, nor one who has any
particular aversion to a clever saying. No man’s tone of manner is
better, and few men have a more pleasant way of saying pleasant
things. He lives in the very best circles of London, where he appears
to me to be properly appreciated and esteemed. Although as far as
possible from being the incessant joker his enemies would represent
him to be, I know no one who occasionally gives a keener or a finer
edge to a remark, or one in better taste. I should say his house is
positively a nucleus of the very best literary society of London,
and, although a decided liberal in politics, he seems to me to be
personally on equally good terms with all parties, with the exception
of those, who, by their very tone towards himself, betray that they
are unfit associates for any gentleman.
The _petits déjeuners_ of Mr. Rogers have deservedly a reputation
in London. Taking all in conjunction, the house, the host, the
curiosities, the situation, the company and the tone, it is not easy
to conceive of any thing better in their way. Women frequent them as
well as men, and, by a tact in the master in making his selections
and assorting his company, or by the atmosphere of the abode, or by
some cause I shall not attempt to explain, it is unusual to see or
hear any thing out of place, or out of season. Not satisfied with
the mental treats he dispenses, the nicest care is had to the table,
and but for these admirable breakfasts I should be apt to pronounce
the meal one of whose rare qualities and advantages, the English in
general have no proper notion. There is no attempt at the French
entertainment in all this, every thing being strictly simple, and
one might say national; but, while I see England and America in the
entire arrangement, both countries are made to appear so much better
than common, that I have been driven to a downright examination
of the details to make certain of the fact. Commend me, in every
respect, to the delicious breakfasts of St. James’s Place!
LETTER VI.
TO MRS. J——, NEW YORK.
If one, in the least in the world, were to judge from the invitations
that lie on his table, during the season, he would be very apt to
pronounce London an eating and drinking town; but inferences are
not to be rashly drawn, and, before we come to our conclusions, it
will be well to remember the numbers there are to eat and drink.
Westminster is a large town, entirely filled with the affluent of
the greatest empire of modern times, and their dependants. Although
comparatively few strangers circulate in the drawing-rooms of London,
the gay and idle of the whole kingdom assemble in them periodically.
Under the incessant fire of invitations that is let off on these
occasions, it is not to be wondered at, if a few random shots should
hit even a rambling American, like myself; for while we are not
absolutely loved in the “British Isles,” they do not churlishly
withhold from us the necessaries of life.
I am very sensible that my experience is too limited to give you a
proper and full idea of the gay world of England, but I may tell a
portion of what I have seen, and, by adding it to the contributions
of others, you may be able to get some more accurate notions than
are to be derived from the novels of the day. As a traveller is a
witness it is no more than fair that some idea should be given of
the circumstances under which he obtained his facts, in order that
one may know how to appreciate his testimony. I may have now been in
fifty houses, since my arrival in London, including in this list that
of the duke down to that of the merchant. Perhaps a third have been
the residences of people of quality; a large portion have been in the
intermediate class between nobility and trade, and the remainder have
certainly savoured of the shop. To this list, however, may be added
a dozen which embrace the indescribable _omnium gatherum_ of men who
have achieved notoriety as _litterateurs_ without personal rank,
players, artists, and managers. I say _litterateurs_ without personal
rank, for, in this age of book-making, half the men of fashion about
town have meditated, or have actually perpetrated the crime of
publishing. The mania of scribbling is not quite as strong here as at
Paris, where it afflicts young and old, high and low, from the king
on his throne to the driver of the _cabriolet_ in his seat; but as
Sir Walter Scott, who is now here, whispered me the other day, when
I pointed out to him a young nobleman as a “brother chip” (and mere
_chips_ of _his log_ are we in good sooth) “The peers are all going
mad!”