21 OCTOBER 1882, Page 9

THE POLITICS OF CULTURE.

JOHN STUART MILL'S assumption, so often repeated by men without his intellectual right to utter an insolence, that "the Tories are the Stupid Party," naturally irritates Conservatives, and we take Lord Carnarvon's recent rather rash utterance to have been a protest against that charge. It irri- tates him, and he looks round for an available answer. He finds a majority of the upper classes strongly opposed to Mr. Gladstone's general policy, he knows that a good many men eminent in intellectual work condemn bits of that policy very angrily, and he jumps to the conclusion that " three-fourths " —which is always the loose *way of mentioning a large majority—of "all men of literary eminence or intellectual power" are against the Liberal Administration. Taken literally, that assertion has, of course, no foundation, it being very difficult to find even a single man of high intellectual rank by men without his intellectual right to utter an insolence, that "the Tories are the Stupid Party," naturally irritates Conservatives, and we take Lord Carnarvon's recent rather rash utterance to have been a protest against that charge. It irri- tates him, and he looks round for an available answer. He finds a majority of the upper classes strongly opposed to Mr. Gladstone's general policy, he knows that a good many men eminent in intellectual work condemn bits of that policy very angrily, and he jumps to the conclusion that " three-fourths " —which is always the loose *way of mentioning a large majority—of "all men of literary eminence or intellectual power" are against the Liberal Administration. Taken literally, that assertion has, of course, no foundation, it being very difficult to find even a single man of high intellectual rank and not in Parliament, who is nominally a Tory. Oratory shows literary power, and in oratory the Conservative Party is absolutely nowhere, is obliged, in default of eloquence of its own, to circulate that of Mr. Cowan, who, whatever else he may be, is certainly no Tory. Statesmanship is a form of intel- lectual power, and the Conservatives, for years dependent upon a leader who was neither English nor Conservative, are now at their wits' end for statesmen who can produce an impression on the people, and are in the House of Commons admittedly as much outmatched as outnumbered. As for authors and men of science, the list given in the Times of Tuesday, and quoted elsewhere, covers almost all prominent names, and there is no avowed Tory among them ; while among journalists, the proportions given by Lord Carnarvon are very nearly reversed. Even if he intended, as we presume he did, to allude to secret feeling and tendency, as well as avowed pro- fession, he is wrong, for in the majority of cases, or at least of known cases, the Conservatism of intellectually 'eminent men springs rather from an opinion on special acts, than a general conversion. Two or three very eminent men, hitherto Liberals, have, for example, been excessively annoyed with Mr. Glad- stone's Irish policy, but that does not make them Conservative, or even anti-Liberal. The matter is of little importance with the present constituency, but in general opinion, about half the very great families and, we should say, roughly, more than three-fifths of the intellectually distinguished, remain substan- tially Liberals.

But we are not quite certain that if we look a little farther afield, and. take Lord Carnarvon's assertion in a somewhat larger sense, we may not find a good deal of justification for it. We see grave reason for apprehending that the new 'aristocracy of culture which is growing up among us, and is asserting its right to position with so much energy and success that it half appals and half attracts the aristocracy of birth and wealth, will not for a long time to come be very liberal in sentiment, whether in the party sense or in that larger sense which the word originally bore. It is getting very separate from the mass, to begin with. Nothing is less explicable or more certain than that the rapid spread of a. poor kind of education has perceptibly deepened the chasm between the cultivated and uncultivated, and inclined the former' to insist a little more upon their intellectual rank, to recoil a little more from opinions held commonly or by great masses of men. Not only are the culti- tivated less moved by general opinion, but they dislike it inore, and are more inclined to" an " those who hold it, and to pro- nounce them very stupid, very dense, and eminently disagreeable persons. We note that tendency distinctly in Mr. Matthew Arnold, the drift being accentuated in his case by his habitual and instinctive kindliness, while in his followers it becomes,

a definite note of thought. Separation impairs liberality of feeling by impairing sympathy, for we never sympa- thise keenly with those from whom we feel any excessive

distance. The warmest advocate of justice to animals finds himself over-taxed in his effort to feel (ltich for fish, unless they are highly organised enough to writhe or to bleed like mammals ; and the difficulty exists, in a lesser degree, as between classes of men. It does not do for the mind to dwell strongly on the stupidity of the dim millions. Those who do so, end by ascribing their sufferings to that very stupidity, that is, to inherent, instead of removable causes. The tendency to physical refinement, again, or restheticism, so marked among the cultivated of to-day as to have become almost a new cult, deepens the chasm, by introducing a seek) of disgust for dirt, dreariness, and squalor, which, when in- dulged, speedily developes into contempt. It is diffi- cult, though not impossible, for Morris's disciples to feel for the "Unwashed," who do not know what a "bru- tality of colour" can mean. Then the democratic move- ment has undoubtedly produced as much recoil among the cultivated as among the rich. The former are not afraid for their intellectual treasures, which no demagogue, however powerful, can take away from them; but they are afraid for their influence, which, great in society, is, they see, very' weak among the vast, almost cosmic, semi- blind political forces now in motion. It is very disagreeable to a man who knows; say, much of all branches of Egyptology, ancient and modern, to see that the fate of Egypt will be settled by millions of voters who, but that Egypt is "a Bible country," would not know where Egypt was, and even when they know that, fancy the minute Delta a broad, grand land, as im-

portant as France. He does not love the voters more for their new power, but less, and is inclined to repudiate their demands, which, being instinctive, are often right, because of the limits of their knowledge. The tendency of cultivated Americans to sneer at philanthropy as a huge " ism " is very noticeable, and is repeating itself both here and upon the Con- tinent. Philanthropists are Liberals by instinct, for they detest the past, with its history of wrong and suffering; and we should say that, while impatience of visible cruelty increases, true philanthropy does not. Again, English philanthropy sixty years ago, mixed itself up, as Mr. Courtney recently noticed at Liskeard, ia a very close way with economic science, and with the intellectual drift of those whom we may best describe as the " Hardheaded," Mr. Courtney made a speech about that which, we suspect, would have interested racist Eng- lishmen greatly, but which did not interest London daily papers, and was consequently cut down till it was hardly intelligible and quite dull. Its drift, however, was perceptible, and was very true, and needs only this rider,—the body of the people are just now going athwart hardheadedness, and thereby irri- tating entire classes once very Liberal indeed. You can see that in the speeches of such a Liberal, so "dyed in the wool," as the Americans say, as Mr. Fawcett, when he gets upon land or thrift, or even the liquor trade. The cultivated, in fact, recoil from the combination of power, and, as they think, unreasonableness in the uncultivated, and in the recoil get angry, and apt either to sulk or positively to oppose. They frequently support Liberal ideas with an internal oath, which Mr. Courtney could hardly keep himself from uttering at Liskeard, at their sentimentality. The result of that recoil sooner or later is the deliberalisation of a strong and useful class, who feel inclined for a time to display not so much a new mind, as the other .side of the mind they always had.

All these causes for the rise of Conservatism of a kind in the minds of the cultivated are, however, feeble, compared with three others, which are, we feel certain, exercising a steadily-increas- ing influence in Lord Carnarvon's direction. One is the rapidly. growing sense of the complexity of everything, which is un- avoidable, and deserving of no condemnation, being a direct product of larger education, but which takes away the nerve from men, and disposes them to dread lest any change, even if in itself an improvement, should let loose unknown forces. Very few who know much and perceive much are rash, and a certain degree of rashness is indispensable to action. If Sir Garnet Wolseley had fully perceived what defeat at Telel-Kebir would mean, he would hardly have ordered that night attack, or at least would have been more exceptionally brave in ordering it; while the man who really realised that speech cannot end— that the spoken word must go out in weaker and weaker vibra- tions to the end of the Universe, if there be an end—would never speak at all. That sense of complexity, and of the intimate union of all things, produces quiescence, which is the essence of Conservatism, almost as much as does the spreading, belief in an immutable Reign of Law. That reign may be distinguished by the philosopher from Necessitarianism, but the practical effect of accepting it as religion is nearly as numbing. If the survival of the fittest is inevitable and is right, why protect the feeble who will go, and ought to go ; yet if they are not to be protected, half the motive-power of Liberalism is gone. If the nation will Swim for itself along a stream of tendency, whether or no, and ought so to swim, why bother oneself with building boats and blasting away rocks and lowering rapids, none of all which can at the utmost do more than quicken the rush P Nobody ever believes in the Reign of Law, except with his head, any more than he believes in Necessity, except with his head,—his instinct in one case, as in the other, tell- ing him that he can, spite of all the Laws, do something; but, so far as lie believes it, he becomes disinclined for effort. The men of Science are willing to make the world more com- fortable, but they can do that quite as well as Conservatives, and are inclined to think that for the rest, the world must drift along, bearing them as interested observers, but not as actors in the Swift and inevitable journey. That mood soon passes into one of great impatience with the folly of those who want to accelerate the rush, or with the madness of those who think they cat deflect it, which is the exact position of many good " Liberals " watching Mr. Gladstone. He will not make. Egyptians self- - governed, they say, for the law governing the East forbids, and they half hate him for trying, in obedience to what he thinks higher forces. And, finally, there is the decay of Religion, which affects Liberals quite as much as Tories, and. which, though. it does not necessarily kill Liberalism, does necessarily impoverish it. After all, if men are to die like big flies, and. humanity is to disappear, buried, with all its thoughts, in a slowly accreting glacier, the improvement of men—and Liberalism is in its essence the improvement of men—is very disheartening work. I do not at heart care one dump whether flies get an extra wing, or not ; if only the children will leave off pulling them to pieces, that is enough. If the present drift of opinion continues—and it is not nearly ended—we may all live to bless God that power has passed without bloodshed or anarchy out of the hands of the educated, and into the hands of those who, before they reason, suffer and feel.