Privilege is a regulation, rendering a few men, and those only by the accident of their birth, eligible to certain situations. It kills all liberal ambition in the rest of mankind, by opposing to it an apparently insurmountable bar. It diminishes it in the favoured class itself, by showing them the principal qualification as indefeasibly theirs. Privilege entitles a favoured few to engross to themselves gratifications, which the system of the universe left at large to all her sons: it puts into tlie hands of these few, the means of oppression against the rest of their species; it fills them with vain glory, and affords them every incitement to insolence and a lofty disregard to the feelings and interests of others.
Privilege, as we have already said, is the essence of aristocracy; and, in a rare condition of human society, such as that of the ancient Romans, privilege has been able to maintain itself without the accession of wealth, and to flourish in illustrious poverty. But this can be the case, only under a very singular coincidence of circumstances. In general, an aggravated monopoly of wealth has been one of the objects, about which the abettors of aristocracy have been most incessantly solicitous. Hence the origin of entails, rendering property, in its own nature too averse to a generous cii'culatiou, a thousand times more stagnant and putrescent than before; of primogeniture, which disinherits every other member of a family, to heap unwholesome abundance upon one; and of various limitations, filling the courts of civilised Europe with endless litigation, and making it in many cases impossible to decide, who it is that has the right of conveying a property, and what shall amount to a legal transfer.
There is one thing, more than all the rest, of importance to the ivell-being of mankind, justice. A neglect of justice is not only to be deplored for the direct evil it produces; it is perhaps still more injurious, by its effects, in per\'erting the under- standing, overtm-ning our calculations of the future, and thus striking at the root of moral discernment, and genuine power and decision of character.
Of all the principles of justice, there is none so material to the moral rectitude of mankind, as that no man can be distinguished but by his personal merit. When a man has proved himself MORAL EFFECTS OF ARISTOCRACY. 47 a benefactor to the public, when he has already, by laudable per- severance, cultivated in himself talents, which need only encour- agement and public favour to bring them to maturity, let that man be honoured. In a state of society where fictitious distinc- tions are unknown, it is impossible he should not be honoured. But that a man should be looked up to with servility and awe. because the king has bestowed on him a spurious name, or decorated him with a ribband; that another should revel in luxury, because his ancestor three centuries ago bled in the quarrel of Lancaster or York; do we imagine that these iniquities can be practised without injury?
Let those who entertain this opinion, converse a little with the lower orders of mankind. They ■v\nll perceive that the unfor- tunate WTetch, who, with unremitted labour, finds himself incapa- ble adequately to feed and clothe his family, has a sense of injustice rankling at his heart.
But let us suppose that their sense of injustice were less acute than is here supposed, Avhat favourable inference can be deduced from that? Is not the injustice real? If the minds of men are so withered and stupified by the constancy with which it is prac- tised, tliat they do not feel the rigour that grinds them into nothing, how does that improve the picture?
Let us fairly consider, for a moment, what is the amount of injustice included in the institution of aristocracy. I am born, suppose, a Polish prince with an income of £300,000 per annum. You are born a manerial serf, or a Creolian negro, attached to the soil, and transferable, by barter or otherwise, to twenty successive lords. In vain shall be your most generous efforts, and your un- wearied industry, to free yourself from the intolerable yoke. Doomed, by the law of your birth, to wait at the gates of the palace you must never enter; to sleep under a ruined, weather- beaten roof, while your master sleeps under canopies of state; to feed on putrified offals, while the world is ransacked for delicacies for his table; to labour, without moderation or limit, under a parching sun, while he basks in perpetual sloth; and to be rewarded at last with contempt, reprimand, stripes, and muti- lation. In fact the case is worse than tliis. I could endure all that injustice or caprice could inflict, provided I possessed, in the resource of a firm mind, the power of looking down with pity on my tyrant, and of knowing that I had that within, that sacred character of truth, virtue, and fortitude, which all his injustice could not reach. But a slave and serf are condemned to stupidity and vice, as well as to calamity.
Is all this nothing? Is all this necessary for the maintenance of civil order? Let it be recollected that, for this distinction, there is not the smallest foundation in the nature of things, that, as we have already said, there is no particular mould for the con- struction of lords, and that they are born neither better nor worse than the poorest of their dependents. It is this structure of aristocracy, in all its sanctuaries and fragments, against which 48 OF TITLES.
48 OF TITLES.
reason and morality have declared war. It is alike unjust, whether we consider it in the castes of India: the villainage of the feudal system; or the despotism of ancient Rome, where the debtors were dragged into personal servitude, to expiate, by stripes and slavery, the usurious loans they could not repay. Mankind will never be, in an eminent degree, virtuous and happy, till each man shall possess that portion of distinction, and no more, to which he is entitled by his personal merits. The disso- lution of aristocracy is equally the interest of the oppressor and the oppressed. The one will be delivered from the listless- ness of tyranny, and the other from the brutalising operation of servitude. How long shall we be told in vain, " that medio- crity of fortune is the true rampart of personal happiness?"
CHAP. XII.
OF TITLES.
Their ongin and history. — Their miserable absurdity. — Truth the only adequate reward of merit.
The case of mere titles, is so absurd, that it would deserve to be treated only with ridicule, were it not for the serious mischiefs they impose on mankind. The feudal system was a ferocious monster, devouring, wherever it came, all that the friend of humanity regards with attachment and love. The system of titles appears under a different form. The monster is at length destroyed, and they who followed in his train, and fattened upon the carcases of those he slew, have stuffed his skin, and, by exhibiting it, hope still to terrify mankind into patience and pusillanimity. The sj^stem of the northern invaders, however, odious, escaped the ridicule of the system of titles. When the feudal chieftains assumed a geographical appellation, it was from some place really subject to their authority; and there was no more absurdity in the style they assumed, than in our calling a man, at present, the governor of Tangiers or the governor of Gibraltar. The commander-in-chief, or tlie sovereign, did not then give an empty name; he conferred an earldom or a barony, a substantial tract of land, with houses and men, and producing a real revenue. He now grants nothing, but a privilege, equiva- lent to that of calling yourself Tom, who were beforetime called Will; and, to add to the absurdity, your new appellation is bor- rowed from some place, perhaps, you never saw, or some country you never visited. The style however is the same; we are still earls and barons, governors of provinces and commanders of forts, and that with the same evident propriety, as the elector of OF TITLES. 49 . Hanover, and arch-treasurer of the empire, styles himself king of France.
Can there be anything more ludicrous, than that the man, who was yesterday Mr. St. John, the most eloquent speaker of the British house of commons, the most penetrating thinker, the um- pire of maddening parties, the restorer of peace to bleeding and exhausted Europe, should be to-day Lord Bolingbroke? In what is he become greater and more venerable than he was? In the pretended favour of a stupid and besotted woman, who always hated him, as she uniformly hated talents and virtue, though, for her own interest, she was obliged to endure him.
The friends of a- man upon whom a title has recently been conferred, must either be wholly blinded by tlie partiality of friendship, not to feel the ridicule of his situation; or completely debased by the parasitical spirit of dependence, not to betray their feelings. Every time they essay to speak, they are in danger of blundering upon the inglorious appellations of Mr. and Sir."* Every time their tongue falters with imconfirmed practice, the question rushes upon them with irresistible force, " What change has my old friend undergone; in what is he wiser or better, happier or more honourable?" The first week of a new title, is a perpetual war of the feelings in every spectator; the genuine dic- tates of common sense, against the arbitrary institutions of society. To make the farce more perfect, these titles are subject to perpetual fluctuations, and the man who is to-day Earl of Kensington, will to-morrow resign, with unblushing effrontery, all appearance of character and honour, to be called Marquis of Kew. History labours under the Gothic and unintelligible burden; no mortal patience can connect the different stories, of him who is to-day Lord Kimbolton, and to-morrow Earl of Manchester; to day Earl of Mulgrave, and to-morrow Marquis of Normanby and Duke of Buckinghamshire.
The absurdity of these titles Strikes us the more, because they are usually the reward of intrigue and corruption. But, were it otherwise, still they would be unworthy of the adherents of reason and justice. When we speak of Mr. St. John, as of the man, who by his eloquence swayed contending parties, who withdrew the conquering sword from suffering France, and gave thirty years of peace and calm pursuit of the arts of life and wisdom to mankind, we speak of something eminently great. Can any title express these merits? Is not truth the consecrated and single vehicle of justice? Is not the plain and simple truth worth all the cunning substitutions in the world? Could an oaken garland, or a gilded coronet, have added one atom to his real greatness? Garlands and coronets may be bestowed on the unworthy, and prostituted to the intriguing. Till man- kind be satisfied with the naked statement of what they really • In reality these appellations are little less absurd than those by which they are superseded, 19.— VOL. II. E 50 OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.
perceive, till they confess virtue to be then most illustrioi*s, when she most disdains the aid of ornament, they will never arrive at that manly justice of sentiment, at which they seem destined one day to arrive. By this scheme of naked truth, virtue will be every day a gainer; every succeeding observer ■will more fully do her justice, while vice, deprived of that varnish with which she delighted to gloss her actions, of that gaudy exliibition which may be made alike by every pretender, will speedily sink into imheeded contempt.
CHAP. XIII.
OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.
Intolerance of aristocracy — dependent for its success upon the ignorance of the multitude. — Precautions necessary for its suppmt. — Different hinds of aristocracy. — Aristocracy of the Romans: its virtues — its vices. — Aristocratical distribution of property — regulations by which it is maintained — avarice it engenders. — Argument against innova" tion from the present happy establishment of affairs considered. — Conclusion.
Aristocracy, in its proper signification, is neither less nor more, than a scheme for rendering more permanent and visible, by the interference of political institution, the inequality of mankind. Aristocracy, like monarchy, is founded in falsehood, the offspring of art foreign to the real nature of things, and must therefore, like monarchy, be supported by artifice and false pretences. Its empire however, is founded in principles more gloomy and un- social, than those of monarchy. The monarch often thinks it advisable to employ blandishments and courtship with his barons iind officers; but the lord deems it sufiicient to rule with a rod of iron.
Both depend for their perpetuity upon ignorance. Could they, like Omar, destroy the productions of profane reasoning, and persuade mankind that the Alcoran contained everything which it became them to study, they might then renew their lease of empire. But here again aristocracy displays its superior harsh- ness. Monarchy admits of a certain degree of monkish learning among its followers. But aristocracy holds a stricter hand. Should tlie lower ranks of society once come to be generally able to write and read, its power would be at an end. To make men serfs and villains, it is indispensably necessary to make them brutes. This is a question which has long been can- vassed with eagerness and avidity. The resolute advocates of the old system have, with no contemptible foresight, opposed the communication of knowledge as a most alarming innovation, la OP THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER. 51 tlieir well known observation, "that a servant who has been taught to write and read, ceases to be any longer the passive machine they requiie," is contained the embryo, from which it would be easy to explain the whole philosophy of European society.
And who is there that can ponder with unruffled thoughts, the injurious contrivances of these self-centred usiu^ers, contrivances, the purpose of which is to retain the human species in a slate of endless degradation? It is in the subjects we are here examining, ^at the celebrated maxim of " many made for one," is brought to the test. Those reasoners were, no doubt, " wise in their gene- ration," who two centuries ago conceived alarm at the bias-, phemous doctrine, " that government was instituted for the benefit of the governed, and, if it proposed to itself any other object, was no better than an usurpation." It will perpetually be found, that the men who in every age, have been the earliest to give the alarm of innovation, and have been ridiculed on that account as bigoted and timid, were, in reality, persons of more than common discernment, who saw, though but imperfectly, in the rude principle, the inferences to which it inevitably led. It is time that men of reflection should choose between the two sides of the alternative: either to go back, fairly and without reserve, to the primitive principles of tyranny; or, adopting any one of the maxims opposite to these, however neutral it may at first appear, not feebly and ignorantly to shut their eyes upon the system of consequences it draws along with it.
It is not necessary to enter into a methodical disquisition of tlie different kinds of aristocracy, since, if the above reasonings have any force, they are equally cogent against them all. Aristo- cracy may vest its prerogatives principally in the individual, as in Poland; or restrict tliem to the nobles in their corporate capacity, as in Venice. The former A^ill be more tumultuous and dis- orderly; the latter more jealous, intolerant, and severe. The magistrates may either recruit their body by election among themselves, as in Holland; or by the choice of the people, as in ancient Rome.
The aristocracy of ancient Rome was incomparably the most venerable and illustrious, that ever existed. It may not therefore be improper to contemplate in them, the degree of excellence to which aristocracy may be raised. They included in their institu- tion some of the benefits of democracy, as, generally speaking, no man became a member of the senate, but in consequence of his being elected by the people to the superior magistracies. It was reasonable therefore to expect, that the majority of the members would possess some degree of capacity. They were not like modern aristocratical assemblies, in which, as primo- geniture, and not selection, decides upon tlicir prerogatives, we shall commonly seek in vain for capacity, except in a few of the lords of recent creation. As the plebians were long restrained from looking for candidates, except among the patricians, that is, s 2 52 OP THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.
the posterity of senators, it was reasonable to suppose that the most eminent talents would be confined to that order. A circum- stance which contributed to this, was the monopoly of liberal education and the cultivation of the mind, a monopoly which the invention of printing has at length fully destroyed Accordingly, all the great literary ornaments of Rome were either patricians, or of the equestrian order, or their immediate dependents. The plebians, though, in their corporate capacity, they possessed, for some centuries, the virtues of sincerity, intrepidity, love of justice and of the public, could scarcely boast of any of those individual characters in their party that reflect lustre on mankind, except the two Gracchi; while the patricians told of Brutus, Valerius, Coriolanus, Cincinnatus, Camillus, Fabricius, Regulus, the Fabii, the Decii, the Scipios, Lucullus, Marcellus, Cato, Cicero, and innumerable others. With this retrospect continually suggested to their minds, it was almost venial, for the stern heroes of Rome, and the last illustrious martyrs of the republic, to entertain aris- tocratical sentiments.
Let us however consider impartially this aristocracy, so superior to any other of ancient or modern times. Upon the first institu- tion of the republic, the people possessed scarcely any authority, except in the election of magistrates, and even here their intrinsic importance was eluded, by the mode of arranging the assembly, so that the whole decision vested in the richer classes of the community. No magistrates of any description, were elected, but from among the patricians. All causes were judged by the patricians, and from their judgment there was no appeal. The patricians intermarried among themselves, and thus fonned a republic of narrow extent, in the midst of the nominal one, which was held by them in a state of abject servitude. The idea which purified these usurpations in the minds of the usurpers, was, " that the vulgar are essentially coarse, grovelling, and ignorant, and that there can be no security for the empire of justice and consistency, but in the decided ascendancy of the liberal." Thus, even while they opposed the essential interests of mankind, they were animated with public spirit and an unbounded enthusiam of virtue. But it is not less true, that they did oppose the essential interests of mankind. What can be more memorable in this respect, than the declamations of Appius Claudius, whether we <jonsider the moral greatness of mind by which they were dic- tated, or the cruel intolerance they were intended to enforce? It is inexpressibly painful, to see so much virtue, through successive ages, employed in counteracting the justest requisitions. The result was, that the patricians, notwithstanding their immeasur- able superiority in abilities, were obliged to resign, one by one, the exclusions to which they clung. In the intcrv^al they were led to have recourse to the most odious methods of opposition; and every man among them, contended who should be loudest in applause of the nefixrious murder of the Gracchi. If the Komans were distinguished for so many virtues, constituted as r OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER. 53 ihey were, what might they not have been, but for the iniquity of aristocratical usurpation? The indelible blemish of their history, the love of conquest, originated in the same cause. Their wars, through every period of the republic, were nothing more, than the contrivance of the patricians, to divert their coimtrymen from attending to the sentiments of political truth, by leading them to scenes of conquest and carnage. They understood the art, com- mon to all governments, of confounding the understandings of the multitude, and persuading them that the most unprovoked hostilities were merely the dictates of necessary defence.
Aristocracy, as we have already seen, is intimately connected with an extreme inequality of possessions. No man can be an useful member of society, except so far as his talents are em- ployed in a manner conducive to the genei-al advantage. In every society, the produce, the means of contributing to the necessities and conveniences of its members, is of a certain amount. In every society, the bulk at least of its members, contribute by their personal exertions to the creation of this produce. What can be more desirable and just, than that the produce itself should, with some degree of equality, be shared among them? What more injurious, than the accumulating upon a few every means of su- perfluity and luxury, to the total destruction of the ease, and plain, but plentiful subsistence of the many? It may be calculated that the king, even of a limited monarchy, receives as the salary of his office, an income equivalent to the labour of fifty thousand men.* Let us set out in our estimate from this point, and figure to ourselves the shares of his counsellors, his nobles, the wealthy commoners by whom the nobility will be emulated, their kindred ' and dependents. Is it any wonder that, in such countries, the lower orders of the community are exhausted, by the hardships of penury and immoderate fatigue? When we see the wealth of a province spread upon the great man's table, can we be surprised that his neighbours have not bread to satiate the cravings of hunger?
Is this a state of human beings that must be considered as the last improvement of political wisdom? In such a state it is" impossible tJiat eminent virtue should not be exceedingly rare. The higher and the lower classes will be alike corrupted by their unnatural situation. But to pass over the higher class for the present, what can be more evident than the tendency of want to contract the intellectual powers? The situation which the wise man would desire, for himself, and for those in whose welfare he was interested, would be a situation of alternate labour and re- laxation, labour that should not exhaust the frame, and relaxation that was in no danger of degenerating into indolence. Thus industry and activity would be cherished, the frame preserved in a healthful tone, and the mind acciistomed to meditation and im- provement. But this would be the situation of the whole human • Taking the average price of labour at one shilling per diem.
54 OF THE ARISTOCRA.TICAL CHARACTER.
species, if the supply of our wants were fairly distributed. Caa any system be more worthy of disapprobation, than that which converts nineteen-twenticths of them into beasts of burden, anni- hilates so much thought, renders impossible so much virtue, and extirpates so much happiness?
But it may be alleged, " tliat this argument is foreign to the subject of aristocracy; the inequality of conditions being the inevitable consequence of the institution of property." It is true that many disadvantages have hitherto flowed out of this institu- tion, in the simplest form in which it has yet existed; but theso disadvantages, to whatever they may amount, are greatly aggra- vated by the operations of aristocracy. Aristocracy turns the stream of property out of its natural course, in following which it would not fail to fructify and gladden, in turn at least, every division of the community; and forwards, with assiduous care, its accumulation in the hands of a very few persons.