aristocracy, although there are two sides even to the effect of
the influence of the church. It sustains and it enfeebles the
government, through dissent. It sustains, by enlisting the prejudices
of churchmen of its side, and it enfeebles by throwing large masses
necessarily into the opposition.[19] On the whole, however, it aids
greatly in upholding the present order of things. One of the most
distinguished statesmen of this country, observed to me pithily, the
other day, that we enjoyed a great advantage in having no established
church. I understood him to mean that he found the establishment of
England a mill-stone around the neck of reform.
One who should judge of the character of the English aristocracy,
by inferences drawn solely from the political system, and from the
warnings of history, would not come to a fairer decision, than he
who should judge of the condition of democracy in America, by the
state of the Grecian and Italian republics. There is much, very much,
that is redeeming here, though it belongs rather to incidents of
the national facts, than to the effects of purely political causes.
As one of the chief of the latter, however, may be mentioned the
openness to censure and comment, that has arisen from the fraud of
considering the government in theory, and in the penal laws, as a
monarchy, when it has so few genuine claims to the character. While
this circumstance exposes the real rulers to constant assaults, and,
as I think, to ultimate defeat, it has, for them, the redeeming
advantage (in some measure redeeming, at least) of putting them on
their guard, of admonishing them of their danger, and of checking
and correcting the natural tendency to abuses. It is, in fact, a
means of bringing the moral civilization and knowledge of the age
to bear directly on their public and private deportment. Viewed in
the first sense, it is usual, here, to say that the families of the
peers are as exemplary as those of any other class of subjects. It
is absurd to make any essential distinction between the nobility
and the gentry, on such a point, for they are identified in all
but the mere circumstance that the former are a titled division
of the aristocracy. As between _castes_, I do not believe there
is any essential moral differences, anywhere. Each has the vices
and the virtues of its condition, and if leisure and wealth tempt
to indulgences, they also supply the means of those higher mental
pleasures which do quite as much as preaching, towards restraining
evil. Individuals of rank do certainly abuse their privileges, and
others profit by their insignificance. There are cases of profligate
vice among the English nobility, beyond a question, but, as a whole,
I believe they are externally as decent and moral, as the same
number of any class in the kingdom. We misconceive the character
of aristocracy quite as much as they misconceive the character of
democracy. Both are essentially tempered by the spirit of the age.
The practice of marrying for worldly views, causes rather more
breaches of the marriage vows among the women, than would otherwise
be the case, though they are certainly better than many other
European nations in this respect. The English say that the world sees
the worst of them, in this particular, a sentiment unknown to the
women of the Continent, causing their own to elope, when they have
yielded to an illicit attachment. I do not believe in either the
fact, or the reason. The disclosures prove that they are discovered
half the time, and the elopements that are voluntary, probably
proceed from the fact that the law allows divorces, and re-marriages,
an advantage, if indeed it be one, that is denied catholics. This is
the weak side of the morals of the English nobility, among whom there
are probably a larger proportion of divorces, than among the same
number of any other protestants. The separations, _a mensa et thoro_,
are also comparatively numerous.
I have, first and last, been brought more or less in personal
contact, with a large number of the nobility of this realm. I have
generally found them well mannered and well educated, and sedulous
to please. There is a certain species of conventional knowledge,
that belongs in a measure to their peculiar social position, that
is diffused among them with surprising equality. I can liken it
most to the sort of inherent tastes and tact, that distinguish the
children of gentlemen from those who are equally well taught in other
respects, but have not had the same early advantages of association,
and which frequently render them companionable and agreeable when
there is little beneath the surface. Judged by a severer standard,
they are like other educated men, of course, though their constant
intercourse with the highest classes of a nation distinguished for
learning, taste, and research, probably imparts to them as a body, an
air of knowledge that is, in some degree, above the level of their
true intelligence. Of a good many of those with whom I have even
conversed, I know too little to speak with sufficient understanding,
but among all those with whom I have, I should find it difficult to
name one who has left on my mind the impression of vapid ignorance
that so often besets us in our own circles. Something is probably
owing to their better tone of manners, which, if it does nothing
else, by inculcating modesty of deportment, prevents exposure. On the
other hand, I could not mention half a dozen who left behind them
the impression of men possessing talents above the ordinary level.
Perhaps, however, this is in a just proportion, to their numbers.
Lord Grey, I have little doubt, has one of the most masculine and
vigorous minds among the peers; and I think it will be found, should
he ever reach the upper house, that Lord Stanley will possess one of
the acutest.
The English appear to me to encourage a fault in their eloquence,
that is common to their literature and their manners. The incessant
study of the Roman classics has imparted a taste for a severity of
style and manner that is better suited to the comprehensive tongue of
the ancients, than to our own ampler vocabulary. From this, or from
some other cause, they push simplicity to affectation; or, admitting
that there is an unconsciousness of the peculiarity, to coldness.
This is observable in their ordinary manners, and in their style of
parliamentary elocution; the latter, in particular, usually wanting
the feeling necessary to awaken sympathy. As respects the Lord’s, it
is rare, I fancy, to hear any thing approaching oratory, the delivery
and the language being conversational rather than oratorical. They
appear to be afraid of falling into the forensic, as it might detract
from a speaker’s glory to have it proved upon him he was a lawyer.
The English nobleman, however, is usually above the miserable
affectations of the drilled coldness of the automaton school. He
appears to have imbibed a portion of the amenity of the high society
of the continent. In this respect the men are better than the women,
as our women are said to be better than the men. I think one would
apply the term _gracieuse_ to fewer English women than common, though
the men of rank merit that of _aimable_ oftener than it is adjudged
to them. I have often, quite often, met with English women of winning
exterior; but their deportment has almost always appeared to be
the result of their feelings; inducing one to esteem, as much as to
admire them; and, although one of ordinary capacity most respects
this trait, where it is wanting he could wish to find its substitute.
In reference to the points of a factitious coldness of manner, and a
want of feeling in oratory, I should say the peers, as compared to
the class next beneath them, are most obnoxious to the latter charge,
and the least to the former.
A day or two after my first visit, I went again to the House of Lords
to hear Mr. Brougham speak in the case of an appeal. I found but two
peers present, the chancellor, and, I believe, Lord Carnarvon. The
former sat on the woolsack buried in flax, as usual, and the latter
occupied one of the lateral benches, with his hat on. The appeal was
made from a decision of the chancellor, who had ordered that a father
should not have the custody of his sons. It was an extraordinary
proceeding in appearance, at least, though reflection somewhat
lessens its absurdity. In point of fact, owing to a change in the
administration, the chancellor from whom the appeal was made, was
not the person who now presided, but had not this accidental change
intervened, it would have been otherwise. Mr. Brougham spoke several
hours, and it would have been irksome to him, indeed, to be compelled
to argue, on appeal, a case over again, that had already been
presented to the same ears! When one comes to consider the matter,
however, he finds that there are many lawyers among the lords, who,
if they do not hear the arguments, may read them; and who can rely
on their own knowledge in making up their minds, when they come to
the vote. The defect was, therefore, one of form rather than one of
substance, though it was strangely deficient in appearances, a fault
the least likely to occur in this government.
LETTER XIII.
TO WILLIAM JAY, ESQ., BEDFORD, N. Y.
Were the people of England, free from the prejudices of their actual
situation and absolutely without a political organization, assembled
to select a polity for their future government, it is probable that
the man who should propose the present system, would at once be set
down as a visionary, or a fool. Could things be reversed, however,
and the nation collected for the same purpose, under the influence of
the opinions that now prevail, the proposer of the system that would
be very likely to be adopted in the former case, would be lucky if he
escaped with his ears. It is safer that facts should precede opinions
in the progress of political meliorations, than that opinions should
precede facts; though it would be better still, could the two march
_pari passu_. All essential changes in the control of human things,
must be attended by one of two species of contests, the struggles of
those who would hasten, or the struggles of those who would retard
events. The active portion of the former are usually so small a
minority, that it is pretty accurate to affirm they are more useful
as pioneers than as pilots, while it is in the nature of things that
the latter should gradually lose their power by desertions, until
compelled by circumstances to yield.
The considerations connected with these truths teach us that reform
is generally a wiser remedy than revolution. Still it must be
recollected that the progress of things is not always in the right
direction. Artificial and selfish combinations frequently supplant
the natural tendency to improvement, and a people, by waiting the
course of events, might sometimes be the supine observers of the
process of forging their own chains. In all such cases, unless the
current can be turned, it must be made to lose its influence by being
thrown backward.
In continuing the subject of the last letter, I am of opinion that
the present system of England is to undergo radical alterations, by
the safest of the two remedies, that of reform; a denial of which
will certainly produce convulsions. The hereditary principle, as
extended beyond the isolated abstraction of a monarch, is offensive
to human pride, not to say natural justice, and I believe the world
contains no instance of an enlightened people’s long submitting to
it, unless it has been relieved by some extraordinary, mitigating,
circumstances of national prosperity. The latter has been the fact
with England; but, as is usually the case with all exceptions to
general rules, it has brought with it a countervailing principle
that, sooner or later, will react on the system.
Hitherto, England has had a monopoly of available knowledge.
Protected by her insular situation, industry has taken refuge in the
island; and, fostered by franchises, it has prospered beyond all
former example. The peculiar construction of the empire, in which
national character and conquest have been mutually cause and effect,
has turned a flood of wealth into that small portion of it, which,
being the seat of power, regulates the tone of the whole, as the
heart controls the pulsations of the body. This is the favourable
side of the question, and on it are to be found the temporal
advantages that have induced men to submit to an ascendancy that they
might otherwise resist.
The unfavourable is peculiarly connected with the events of the
last thirty years. In order to counteract the effects of the French
revolution, the aristocracy carried on a war, that has cost the
country a sum of money which, still hanging over the nation in
the shape of debt, is likely to produce a radical change in the
elements of its prosperity. In the competition of industry which
is now spreading itself throughout Christendom, it is absolutely
necessary to keep down the price of labour in England, to prevent
being undersold in foreign markets, and to keep up the prices of
food, in order to pay taxes. These two causes united have created an
excess of pauperism, that hangs like a dead weight on the nation,
and which helps to aid the rivalry of foreign competition. Taking
the two together, about one hundred and thirty millions of dollars
annually are paid by the nation, and much the greater part as a
fine proceeding from the peculiar form of the government; for the
sacrifices that were made, were only to be expected from those
who were contending especially for their own privileges. As the
territories of England were impregnable, no mere monarch could have
carried on the system of Mr. Pitt, since the rich would not have
submitted to it, and as for the people, or the mass, there would have
been no sufficient motive. In order to appreciate these efforts, and
their consequences, it will be necessary to consider the vast annual
sums expended by Great Britain during the late wars, and then look
around for the benefits. One undeniable result is, I take it, that
industry is quitting the kingdom, under the influence of precisely
the same causes as those by which it was introduced. I do not mean so
much that capitalists depart, as they left Flanders, for the scale
on which things are now graduated, renders more regular changes
necessary, but that the skill emigrates, to avoid the exactions
of the state. I may, however, go further, and add that capital
also quits the country. It takes longer to subvert the sources of
national than of individual prosperity, and we are not to look for
results in a day. Still these results, I think, are already apparent.
They appear in the moderated tone of this government, in its strong
disinclination to war, and, in fact, on an entire change in its
foreign policy.
It is quite obvious that the English aristocracy is existing in a
state of constant alarm. The desperate expedient of Mr. Pitt, that of
undertaking a crusade against popular rights, is already producing
its reaction. It is seldom that the human mind can be brought to
an unnatural tension on one side, without recoiling to the other
extreme, as soon as liberated. Men are constantly vibrating around
truth, the passions and temporary interests acting as the weights to
keep the pendulum in motion. The result of the present condition of
the English aristocracy, is to put them, in a political as well as a
social sense, on their good behaviour. Although so great a proportion
of the peculiar embarrassments of Great Britain may be traced, with
sufficient clearness, to the exclusive features of the government,
there probably never has been a period in the history of the nation,
when the power of the few has been so undisputed in practice, or its
exercise more under the sense of correction.
I have already said that one of the consequences of the forced
prosperity that grew out of the system of Mr. Pitt, was to raise up
a dangerous social caste, that had no immediate connexion with the
government, while it became too powerful to be overlooked. Sir James
M‘Intosh, in his History of the Revolution of 1668, has said, that
the Constitution attributes the power of creating peers to the king,
“either to reward public service, or to give dignity to important
offices, or to add ability or knowledge to a part of the legislature,
or to repair the injuries of time, by the addition of new wealth to
an aristocracy which may have decayed.” Nothing is wanting to the
truth of this exposition but to add the words “or any thing else.”
Mr. Pitt extended these constitutional motives by including that of
neutralising an antagonist wealth, which might become dangerous to
the particular wealth already in possession of power. The peerage
has been essentially doubled since the accession of George III. In
addition to these accessions to the House of Lords, a great number
of Irish peers have been created, who are also a species of direct
political aristocrats. Social bribes have been liberally dealt out,
in addition, by an enormous creation of baronets, of whom there are
now near a thousand in the empire.
But this is a mode of maintaining a system, that will soon exhaust
itself. Knighthood, except in particular cases, is no longer a
distinction for a gentleman, and would be refused by any man of a
decided social position, unless under circumstances to which I have
elsewhere alluded. The exceptions are in the cases of especial
professional merit. A lawyer, an artist, a physician, or a soldier,
might be knighted without discredit, but scarcely an ordinary
civilian. It would throw a sort of ridicule about a man or a woman
of fashion, to be termed “Sir John,” or “My Lady,” without these
alleviating circumstances.
The case is a little, but not much, better, as respects baronets.
I should think it would no longer be easy to get a man of family,
who is familiar with the world, to accept of a baronetcy, except
as a professional reward. As we say in America, “the business is
overdone.” Even Irish peerages are not in favour.
You will readily understand the approaching necessity for change in
the institutions of England, by looking a little more closely at
facts. The danger comes equally from the rich and the poor. From
the rich, because they are excluded from power by the action of the
borough system, and from the poor, because they are reduced to the
minimum of physical enjoyments, and are formidable by numbers, as
well as by their intelligence.
As regards the rich, though the scale of pretension has gradually
been extending itself with the wealth of the nation, the latter has
outgrown the possibility of meeting its wants. The price of a seat
in parliament amounts almost to a tariff, it is true, the average
expense for a term of years being set down as a thousand pounds
a-year, but the supply is limited, and is in a few hands. Men may
submit to a competition, but, though in the case of representation
there must be some fixed numbers, they naturally dislike monopoly,
and still more, in such cases, the fruits of monopoly. Were the
English government strictly a money-power government, its security
would be treble what it is to-day, for it would at once neutralize
one of the most formidable of its enemies. But it is not; for though
based on money, it is so modified as not to give even money fair
play. Were there not natural political antipathies between the rich
and the poor, they would unite, and speedily produce a change. It
would be a master-stroke of policy to bring in all the wealth of
the country again, as a loyal ally of the government, by destroying
the borough system entirely, equalising representation by numbers,
establishing a reasonably high rate of qualification, and, by
preserving the open vote, leave money to its influence. I take it,
a money-government, that is fairly in action, in an industrious
and intelligent nation, is only equalled in strength by one based
on popular rights, in a community accustomed to the exercise of
political privileges. It is, however, the government most likely to
corrupt and debase society.
When I tell you of the intelligence of the poor in England, you are
to understand me, not as saying that it extends very far; but the
cultivation of intellect dependent on the exercise of the mechanical
arts, the cheapness of printing, and the general spirit of the age,
have raised up a set of men in England, among what are called the
operatives, who are keen in investigation, frequently eloquent and
powerful in argument, and alive, by position, to those natural rights
of which they are now deprived. These men act strongly on the minds
of their fellows, and are producing an effect it would be folly to
despise. Paine was of the class.
The popular accounts of the fortunes of the landed aristocracy
of England, may lead you into erroneous notions concerning their
relative wealth and power, so far as the two are connected.
Conversing lately with one of the best informed men in the kingdom on
such a subject, I alluded to the reputed income of Lord Grosvenor,
who is said to have £300,000 a-year. My acquaintance laughed at the
exaggeration, telling me that he did not believe there was a man in
the country who had half that income, and that he knew but five or
six who, he thought, could have as much as £100,000.
These large incomes are also liable to many reductions, even when
they do exist. The estate is there, certainly, and the incumbent
has a life interest in it; but what between widows’ dowers, younger
children, mortgages, and liens created by the anticipations incident
to entails, and other charges, one, who is a good judge, tells me he
questions if the proprietors of England touch much more than half
the amount of their rent-rolls, if indeed they receive as much. My
friend is intimate with a man of rank here, with whom I have, also,
a slight acquaintance, and, speaking of his estate, he added, “Now,
vulgar rumour will tell you Lord —— has a hundred thousand a-year; he
has, in truth, a rent-roll of sixty thousand, of which he actually
receives about forty.”
There is so much beauty in probity, and one feels such a respect for
those who manifest more devotedness to the affections than to worldly
interests, that I cannot refrain from relating a circumstance, or
two, connected with the history of this nobleman, that were related
by his friend in the same conversation.
Lord —— was born a younger son. The improvidence of his father left a
debt of the enormous amount of near a million of dollars. The elder
brother and heir refused to recognize this claim, which did not form
a lien on the estate. A moderate provision had been made for the
younger brother. At this period, my friend was commissioned to speak
to the latter, concerning a marriage with the heiress of a large
estate; not less, I believe, than sixteen thousand a-year. He heard
the proposition, coloured, hesitated, and answered that if he ever
married, his choice was made. Shortly after he married his present
wife, who was virtually without fortune. A few years later the elder
brother died childless, when he succeeded to the titles and the
estates. From that moment his expenditure was so regulated, that in
a few years he was enabled to pay every sixpence of the debts of the
father, since which time he has lived with the liberal hospitality
becoming his station.
I do not know that the English nobility are at all deficient in
liberality, but the charity-_fanfaronades_ of Christmas blankets
and hogsheads of beer, and warm cloaks, that so often appear in the
journals here, have only excited a smile, while I have never seen
Lord ——, since I learned these traits, without feeling a reverence
for the man. He has his reward, for his wife is just such a woman as
would remove all cause of regret for having acted nobly.