Last Sunday week, being at church in this city, and the service just
ended, I heard two Snobs conversing about the Parson. One was asking
the other who the clergyman was? 'He is Mr. So-and-so,' the second Snob
answered, 'domestic chaplain to the Earl of What-d'ye-call'im.' 'Oh, is
he' said the first Snob, with a tone of indescribable satisfaction.--The
Parson's orthodoxy and identity were at once settled in this Snob's
mind. He knew no more about the Earl than about the Chaplain, but he
took the latter's character upon the authority of the former; and went
home quite contented with his Reverence, like a little truckling Snob.
This incident gave me more matter for reflection even than the sermon:
and wonderment at the extent and prevalence of Lordolatory in this
country. What could it matter to Snob whether his Reverence were
chaplain to his Lordship or not? What Peerageworship there is all
through this free country! How we are all implicated in it, and more or
less down on our knees.--And with regard to the great subject on hand, I
think that the influence of the Peerage upon Snobbishness has been
more remarkable than that of any other institution. The increase,
encouragement, and maintenance of Snobs are among the 'priceless
services,' as Lord John Russell says, which we owe to the nobility.
It can't be otherwise. A man becomes enormously rich, or he jobs
successfully in the aid of a Minister, or he wins a great battle, or
executes a treaty, or is a clever lawyer who makes a multitude of fees
and ascends the bench; and the country rewards him for ever with a gold
coronet (with more or less balls or leaves) and a title, and a rank
as legislator. 'Your merits are so great,' says the nation, 'that your
children shall be allowed to reign over us, in a manner. It does not in
the least matter that your eldest son be a fool: we think your services
so remarkable, that he shall have the reversion of your honours when
death vacates your noble shoes. If you are poor, we will give you such
a sum of money as shall enable you and the eldest-born of your race for
ever to live in fat and splendour. It is our wish that there should be
a race set apart in this happy country, who shall hold the first rank,
have the first prizes and chances in all government jobs and patronages.
We cannot make all your dear children Peers--that would make Peerage
common and crowd the House of Lords uncomfortably--but the young ones
shall have everything a Government can give: they shall get the pick
of all the places: they shall be Captains and Lieutenant-Colonels at
nineteen, when hoary-headed old lieutenants are spending thirty years
at drill: they shall command ships at one-and-twenty, and veterans who
fought before they were born. And as we are eminently a free people, and
in order to encourage all men to do their duty, we say to any man of
any rank--get enormously rich, make immense fees as a lawyer, or great
speeches, or distinguish yourself and win battles--and you, even you,
shall come into the privileged class, and your children shall reign
naturally over ours.'
How can we help Snobbishness, with such a prodigious national
institution erected for its worship? How can we help cringing to
Lords? Flesh and blood can't do otherwise. What man can withstand this
prodigious temptation? Inspired by what is called a noble emulation,
some people grasp at honours and win them; others, too weak or mean,
blindly admire and grovel before those who have gained them; others, not
being able to acquire them, furiously hate, abuse, and envy. There are
only a few bland and not-in-the-least-conceited philosophers, who
can behold the state of society, viz., Toadyism, organised:--base
Man-and-Mammon worship, instituted by command of law:--Snobbishness, in
a word, perpetuated,--and mark the phenomenon calmly. And of these calm
moralists, is there one, I wonder, whose heart would not throb with
pleasure if he could be seen walking arm-in-arm with a couple of dukes
down Pall Mall? No it is impossible in our condition of society, not to
be sometimes a Snob.
On one hand it encourages the commoner to be snobbishly mean, and the
noble to be snobbishly arrogant. When a noble marchioness writes in
her travels about the hard necessity under which steam-boat travellers
labour of being brought into contact 'with all sorts and conditions of
people:' implying that a fellowship with God's creatures is disagreeable
to to her Ladyship, who is their superior:--when, I say, the Marchioness
of ---- writes in this fashion, we must consider that out of her natural
heart it would have been impossible for any woman to have had such a
sentiment; but that the habit of truckling and cringing, which all
who surround her have adopted towards this beautiful and magnificent
lady,--this proprietor of so many black and other diamonds,--has really
induced her to believe that she is the superior of the world in general:
and that people are not to associate with her except awfully at a
distance. I recollect being once at the city of Grand Cairo, through
which a European Royal Prince was passing India-wards. One night at the
inn there was a great disturbance: a man had drowned himself in the well
hard by: all the inhabitants of the hotel came bustling into the Court,
and amongst others your humble servant, who asked of a certain young man
the reason of the disturbance. How was I to know that this young gent
was a prince? He had not his crown and sceptre on: he was dressed in a
white jacket and felt hat: but he looked surprised at anybody speaking
to him: answered an unintelligible monosyllable, and--BECKONED HIS
AID-DE-CAMP TO COME AND SPEAK TO ME. It is our fault, not that of the
great, that they should fancy themselves so far above us. If you WILL
fling yourself under the wheels, Juggernaut will go over you, depend
upon it; and if you and I, my dear friend, had Kotow performed before
us every day,--found people whenever we appeared grovelling in slavish
adoration, we should drop into the airs of superiority quite naturally,
and accept the greatness with which the world insisted upon endowing us.
Here is an instance, out of Lord L----'s travels, of that calm,
good-natured, undoubting way in which a great man accepts the homage of
his inferiors. After making some profound and ingenious remarks about
the town of Brussells, his lordship says:--'Staying some day at the
Hotel de Belle Vue, a greatly overrated establishment, and not nearly as
comfortable as the Hotel de France--I made acquaintance with Dr. L----,
the physician of the Mission. He was desirous of doing the honours of
the place to me, and he ordered for us a DINER EN GOURMAND at the chief
restaurateur's, maintaining it surpassed the Rocher at Paris. Six or
eight partook of the entertainment, and we all agreed it was infinitely
inferior to the Paris display, and much more extravagant. So much for
the copy.
And so much for the gentleman who gave the dinner. Dr. L----, desirous
to do his lordship 'the honour of the place,' feasts him with the
best victuals money can procure--and my lord finds the entertainment
extravagant and inferior. Extravagant! it was not extravagant to
HIM;--Inferior! Mr. L---- did his best to satisfy those noble jaws,
and my lord receives the entertainment, and dismisses the giver with
a rebuke. It is like a three-tailed Pasha grumbling about an
unsatisfactory backsheesh.
But how should it be otherwise in a country where Lordolatry is part
of our creed, and where our children are brought up to respect the
'Peerage' as the Englishman's second Bible?