BOOK NINTH.

THE FEELINGS AND DETERMINATION OF THE

ARISTOCRACY.

THE aristocracy of England are not ignorant of those burdens and distresses of the people, which I have faintly pourtrayed, nor of their feelings and determination under their awful wrongs. They are aware of the rapid advances reform has already made, and the increased confidence of those who urge it. The encroachments on their ancient prerogatives and power are felt. The still more radical changes proposed do not elude their scrutiny. Quiet and dignified as they may appear, they feel under their feet the mighty undulations of the mass on which they have so long trod. The ominous sounds arising from starving millions-the clear practical language of men who have just learned both their rights and their strength, are not unheard by them; the perils with which they are begirt, thickening every year, are not unwatched.

They are also conscious that taxation, the cause of this discontent and suffering, must be in

creased to meet the exigencies of the times, or their revenues decreased. Placed in this dilemma, beset by the dangers that are augmenting every hour, it is not to be supposed they are without feeling or purpose. Inaction is not to be entertained for a moment. But the thought of surrendering their power is repelled as equally unwise and unworthy. Too much pride and too much interest are involved in the surrender. A reform thorough enough to allay the discontent of the people and relieve their distresses, would deprive them of their emoluments and influence, and tend to reduce them to the rank of citizens. When Lord Stanley, though willing enough to support reform in the corporations, opposed all reform in the Church, one remarked: "It is very natural; for he would have to give up livings worth £22,000, or more than $100,000 a year. The Duke of Rutland, in eighteen weeks, had drank in his house 200 dozen of wine, 70 hogsheads of ale-burned 2,330 wax lights-630 gallons sperm oil. In that time there had dined at his grace's table 2000 persons, 2,421 more in the Steward's room, 11,312 in the servant's hall, &c. The income of some of the richest noblemen in England, is over $5000 a day. Such estates will not be given up without a struggle.

The same spirit governs the church, with her immense revenues. A certain Lord Bishop lately said in Parliament, "Reduce the revenues of the Church and no man of rank will enter it."

Self

interest holds the whole aristocracy and hierarchy together a bond of union minor differences will never sunder. But united though they be by interest, and held together by love of rank and influence, yet different portions of them have very different anticipations, in view of the terrific and increasing struggle to cleave down the tree of hereditary despotism. One part, destitute of intellect and virtue, look back on the long unbroken family line of which they form a part--its wealth and power and fancy there can never be a change. Unable to appreciate the spirit of the age in which they live, thoroughly imbued with the spirit of feudalism, they look with ineffable disdain on the demands of the people. In the British realm it has ever been the duty of the people to submit to their aristocracy, and leave the laws and government to their jurisdiction. The power belonged to them, and the people had nothing to do but to obey and receive what was given as the gracious benefaction of those who had an exclusive title to all the emoluments of the kingdom. It has been so for centuries; and, arrogant and senseless, they vainly dream it can be so still. They forget that a change in the spirit and wants of the age demands, and will have a change in its institutions. Magnified to themselves and blinded by the glare of their own titles, they do not measure the full force that is bearing down on them. Wrapped up in the mantle of feudalism, they sit proudly within the 20

VOL. II.

crumbling structure, hoary with age, and gaze on the pictures, and heraldry and symbols around. them, till the past seems revived, and the wild uproar of the starving populace without, is changed into the acclamations of humble and obedient serfs.

This class believe all reforms quite unnecessary. Why should they not cling to that which gives them rank and wealth? What has succeeded in the past will do for the present. They verily believe the same relation that formerly existed between the lord and his serf, to be the right one, and may still be preserved.

This stupidity seems impossible amid the turbulent elements that are so rapidly assuming shape around them. But it may be remembered a title does not prevent a man from being a fool, -nay, if he was half a one before, it immediately supplies the deficiency. The less wisdom he possesses, the more inflated he becomes with his rank, and the more profound his wonder at the audacity of starving wretches presuming to clamour for bread. Among such men, notwithstanding his military success, we should place the Duke of Wellington; unless we choose to explain his conduct as some others have done, and regard him as returning to second childhood, his powers reduced and weakened by age. On no other ground can we account for the false and stupid statement that although he "deeply lamented the distress that prevailed in some parts of the coun

try, there was no distress arising from want of food." The noble Duke would probably not believe there was a scarcity of food, till like La Fayette, he was leading the National Guards against an army of women, besieging the court and the palace with that most terrific of all popular cries, "bread, bread." On no ground but half idiocy could be justified the declaration "that the reduction of taxes had been carried as far as it could be, and that of all the constitutions ever devised by man, that of England with the unreformed Parliament, was the most perfect;" or the still stranger language and cruelty to the Paisley operatives, who sent a deputation to him, begging him to hear their complaints, and relieve their sufferings, when he told them he was not desirous of hearing any such account, and that he was not one of her majesty's political advisers. And yet in anticipation of the misery of the approaching winter he did advise her to prorogue Parliament. This noble Duke refused to grant even his hearing to the petition of famishing men; or reply to it in any other form than by telling them he was not desirous of listening to the tale of their woes! He refused to extend even private charity, to 10,000 men, women and children, who were then living on a penny a head per day and yet the noble Duke receives annually from his countrymen an income of $200,000. Such are the views and feelings of many of the nobility of Englandfoolish, heartless and cruel that they are! Such