TICKLER. I, too, like occasionally to play the first fiddle. SHEPHERD. An' you're entitled to do sae; for you've a fine finger, and a bauld bowhaun'. NORTH. I love best of all to sit sympathetically mute among my friends, and by a benign countenance to encourage the artless fluency of young lips, overflowing with the music of untamed delight in life, "a stranger yet to pain." A benign countenance ! SHEPHERD. NORTH. Few words have been more perverted from their true meaning, by being narrowed, than the words one so frequently hears, now-a-days, from not unvulgar lips-" Good Society"-" The Best Society." "The highest circles." TICKLER. NORTH. In my opinion, James, a man may commit a worse mistake, in aspiring to association with persons above his own rank, than in descending somewhat, perhaps, below it, in the intercourse of private and domestic life. SHEPHERD. Many sumphs o' baith sexes do. There may be pride in ilka case; but the pride o' the first maun aften gnaw its thoomb. The pride o' the second aftener wats its thoomb to join't to that o' a brither, though born in laigh degree, probably as gude or a better man than himsell; and whan that's foun' out, pride dees, and in its place there grows up a richtfu' affection. NORTH. All men of sense know their natural position in society-whether it has been allotted to them by birth, by wealth, by profession, by virtue, by talent, by learning, or by genius. SHEPHERD. Happy he—and fortunate-to whom have been given all these gifts! NORTH. Yet some, my dear James, to whom they all have been given, have abused them-aye, even genius and virtue-and their friends have been speechless of them ever after their funerals. TICKLER. Some use the terms "good society," as if they thought all society but that which they have in their eye, bad; and they superciliously shun all other, as not only infra dig, but in itself absolutely low, and such as they could not even casually enter without loss of honour-without degradation. NORTH. Yet, when one asks himself, Tim, "who are they?" it is not, at least, of their pedigree they have to be proud, for, perhaps, "Their ignoble blood Has crept through scoundrels ever since the flood;"but by means of some shewy accomplishment, or some acquired elegance, perhaps of demeanour, or some suave subservience that sits so naturally upon them, that they-all unlike though it be-mistake it for the easy manner of the higher class to which they have been permitted to become an appendage-they believe, at last, that they belong to the privileged orders, and look down on people who would not have shaken hands with their father, had he given them half the gold his itching palm had purloined. TICKLER. Such aspirants generally sink as they had soared; and after their dangling days are done, you may chance to meet them shabby-genteel, in streets not only unfashionable, but unfrequented, somewhat old-looking, and ready to return your unexpected nod with an obsequious bow. Puir chiels! SHEPHERD. NORTH. We all fall-if we be wise-of our own accord and according to the operation of laws plain and unperplexing-into our proper place in the intercommunion of life. Thence we can look pleasantly, and cheerfully, and socially, around, above, and below us-unimpatient of peer, and unashamed of peasant-but most at home at firesides most like our own-a modest mansion-half-way, perchance, between hall and hut-that Golden Mean which all sages have prayed for, and which religion herself has called blest! SHEPHERD. A' doors alike are open to you, sir, and every heart loups wi' welcomin' at the clank o' your crutch on the marble-the stane-the sclate-the wooden, or the earthen stair. Small? Who is or need sing small, who bears within his bosom an honest heart? SHEPHERD. But why look sae fearsome in uttering sic a sentiment? NORTH. Because I thought of " the proud man's contumely," the oppressor's SHEPHERD. There's less oppression in this land than in ony ither that ever basked in sunshine, or was swept by storm; sae lay by the crutch, sir, and let that face subside, for "Blackness comes across it like a squall aye, aye, thank ye, sir, thank ye, sir, 'tis again like the sky in the mornin' licht. Not quite so blue, I hope. TICKLER. SHEPHERD. Nae sarcasm, Tickler; better blue nor yellow.-May I ask hae ye gotten the jaundice? TICKLER. Merely the reflection of that bright yellow vest of yours, James, which, I fear, won't stand the washing. Yet, delightful indeed, James, as you know, are the manners of high birth. There is a mighty power in manners, James, connected with the imagination. What's your wull? SHEPHERD. NORTH. Why, in societies highly cultivated, some of the lightest and most exquisite motions of imagination exercise acknowledged authority over the framework of life. Eh, sir? SHEPHERD. NORTH. As it might have been said at Paris, for example, James, in its height of civilisation, that among its highest circles, even the delicate play of Fancy, in lightest conversation, cultivated as it was as an accomplishment, and worn as the titular ornament of those among whom life was polished to its most sparkling lustre, even that grace of courtly wit, and playing fancy, had force in binding together the minds of men, and in maintaining at the summit of life, the peace and union of society. How strongly the quick clear sense of the slight shades of manners marked out to them those who belonged, and those who did not belong, to their order! In that delicate perception of manners, they held a criterion of rank by which they bound together as strongly their own society, as they separated it from all others. And thus the punctilios of manners, which appear so insignificant to ordinary observers, are, as they more finely discriminate the relations of men, of absolute power in the essential regulation and subordination of ranks. SHEPHERD. Fine philosophy, I daursay, but rather owre fine for the fingers o' my apprehension, clumsy at the uptak o' silk threeds, but strang when clasped roun' a rape or a cable. NORTH. Now, James, passing from France under the old régime, when it was acknowledged all over Europe that the French were the politest people in the world, and their nobility the exemplars, in manners, of all nobilities, allow me to say that in all countries, where there is a hereditary peerage, that theirs is a life under the finest influences; and that in the delicate faculties of the mind, in its subtlest workings, in its gentlest pleasures, in even its morbid sensibilities, we are to look for the principles which govern with power their social condition. Why, the literature of this country is a bulwark of its political peace; not by the wisdom of knowledge thus imparted, but by the character it has impressed on the life of great classes of its inhabitants, drawing the pleasures of their ordinary life into the sphere of intellect. By a control, then, of whatever kind, exercised upon the most finely sensitive faculties of the mind, the higher classes of civilized nations are bound together in the union of society. But the cultivation of this sensibility is a work that is continually going on among themselves, and is carried to greater perfection, as they are less disturbed by intermixture of those who are strangers to their own refinement. It goes on from one age to another; it is transmitted in families; it is an exclusive and hereditary privilege and distinction of the privileged orders of the community. I see your drift now. SHEPHERD. NORTH. Now, this cultivated sensibility-of whatever importance, of which I now say nothing-which characterises, governs, and guards the highest classes of a long-civilized society, which war broke up and confounded in France by a political revolution, has been disturbed in our country by the changes which the excess of commercial prosperity has above all things brought on in the social relations of the people. SHEPHERD. Mr Tickler, what for do you no join in? TICKLER. Thank heaven for that cough. Observe, James, how commerce, which is continually raising up multitudes of men high above the condition of their birth, has thrown up such numbers into a high condition of political importance, so that they have begun to fill what were once the exclusively privileged orders with sometimes-rude enough and raw recruits. The consequence is, and will farther be, that the distinction of ancient birth, which even fifty years ago was still kept very pure, is very fast blotting out from the nation. SHEPHERD. Weel continued and carried on, Mr Tickler, in the same spirit wi' North's original and originating remarks. But nae great matter if the distinctions shoud be mingled thegether, though no just blotted oot-I cu'd na thole that we maun hae "our Lords and Dukes and michty Earls." NORTH. I do not mean to justify, James, the severity with which this distinction is in some countries maintained; but I have no idea that such a distinction, of such ancient importance, can be rapidly done away with im punity. TICKLER. Assuredly, sir, it cannot. The sensibilities and principles, whatever they are, which are become hereditary with birth, are abolished with the distinction. However low their own worth may be-but they are not low -they are of vast political importance by the distinctive character they give, by the ostensible and fastidious separation with which they hedge in the highest political order in the state NORTH. And seldom indeed, Mr Tickler, are they without their own high worth. In none of the great states of modern Europe have they been so. In this country, the principles of opinion, and the characteristic feelings which were avowed, cherished, and upheld by the Aristocracy and Noblesse, were of great dignity and importance. SHEPHERD. Only look at their picturs on the galleries o' auld castles! What beautifu' and brave faces! What loveliness and majesty! Though noo and then, to be sure, a dowdy or a droich. NORTH. This character can no longer maintain itself, James, when any cause, as commerce, throws into the class of the gentry, numbers who were not born to their rank. For the character is maintained by exclusion; in part by education within their own houses, where it may be said to be of hereditary transmission; in part by the power of opinion acting from one to another throughout their order. With the new members, it is evident, that as far as they compose the class, one cause cannot be in force; but more than this, they defeat by their admission the force of opinion among the others; for opinion holds its force solely by its sameness, and as soon as that is violated, its force is gone. SHEPHERD. Is the change, then, sir, on the whole, think ye, for good or evil? NORTH. I cannot say, James. But this I will say, that now aristocracy of rank must be supported by aristocracy of talent and virtue, or it, in another century at latest, will fall. And is't no ? SHEPHERD. NORTH. It is. And therefore, for that, as for a hundred other reasons, I abhor the radicals—and go forth fearlessly to battle against them with The crutch. SHEPHERD. NORTH. The changes which the commercial system is working, may ultimately be for good; at any rate, they will proceed while that system endures. But the designs of low-minded, low-hearted, base, and brutal Jacobins must be resisted, not by law-for it must not be stretched to reach them-but by literature; not by the gibbet-for that is barbarous-but by the-Press. SHEPHERD. Noble sentiments, sir. Let the devils ply their hollow engines, but let the angels overwhelm them with solid hills. But as ye say, sir, let there be no a hole in a' the claes o' the nobility themsells-nae stain on their skutcheons--and then they'll endure to the end o' time. NORTH. I believe, indeed I know, that unfortunately among the higher ranks of society, there prevails a great ignorance of the character of the lower ranks-their enjoyments, their pursuits, their manners, their morals, and their minds. They think of them too often almost as an inferior race. From their birth many of them have been trained and taught to do so; and in the condescension of the most enlightened, there is a mixture of pride repulsive to its object, and not to be accepted without some sacrifice of independence. SHEPHERD. I aye thocht ye had been freendly to the distinction of ranks. NORTH. So I am, James-to a harmonious blending of distinct ranks Frae the king till the beggar. SHEPHERD. NORTH. Just so-from the king to the beggar SHEPHERD. I wud rather be the King o' the Beggars, wi' a croon o' strae and coortduds, than some ither kings I cou'd mention No politics, James. TICKLER. NORTH. What strength would be in that State where each order knew the peculiar and appropriate virtues of all the rest-knew, loved, respected, and honoured them; and what a spirit of preservation ! TICKLER. The worst enemy of his country and of his kind, is he who seeks to set one order against the other, by false aspersions on their prevalent character-the poor against the rich, the rich against the poor,-so with the high the humble born SHEPHERD. And aboon a', the flocks again their shepherds-the shepherds o' their sowles. I never was wrang yet, in settin' doon the fallow for a knave wha jeeringly pronounced the word " parson." NORTH. 'Tis become a slang-word with many who pretend to be the friends of the people, and anxious, above all things, to promote their education. What would mighty England be without her Church? TICKLER. Her mind had not been a "thing so majestical," but for her glorious army of martyrs and apostles-in long array, the succession of her philosophic divines. SHEPHERD. Oh dear me! what wad I no gie the noo for a whatt! (Enter Mr AMBROSE with a Board of Oysters-the Council of Five Hundred-and TAPPYTOURIE, with Ale and Porter, bottled and draught.) (The Whatt is deposited, with all its Parapharnalia, on the Circular.) |