REPUBLICAN HONOURS.
Generalissimo, in receipt of £25,000 a year. Prince Bismarck was refused the desire of his heart, which was, as Duke of Lauenburg, to be admitted into the ranks of the Sovereign Princes, but he received, with Marshal von Moltke, a grant from the French indemnity which made him, for Germany, a rich man. We no longer give estates, and have substituted rather stingy grants for the old pensions for three lives, bat we still estimate victory at a certain money value. Republics do not follow this plan. Neither America, nor France as a Republic, nor Switzerland, so far as we know, has ever voted to its Generals a public grant of solid cash. We see nothing contrary to Republican principles in such grants, and rather wonder in countries where material advantages are so much desired that they are not made. All nations, however, feel a great desire to repay victorious or highly successful agents with honours, but what with theories and popular notions, Republics find much difficulty in doing it. A Monarch can confer recognised rank, which makes its recipient prominent among his countrymen, and elevates even his wife, and can even make that rank hereditary, thus stamping honour on the family for evermore. That may seem an irrational method of reward inasmuch as the descendants of a man so elevated need do nothing for the community, but it is certain that no other is so highly valued. All through Monarchical Europe a peerage is a thing which ambitious men desire, and the hope of which rouses Generals, Admirals, and politicians to the highest exertions. "A peerage or Westminster Abbey" was the sentence in which Nelson expressed the hope of nearly every great Englishman, and on the Conti- nent, especially by all who speak German, the honour is even more highly valued. It invests its possessor with the unaccountable charm of rank, the "mystical charm," Mrs. Oliphant called it, and with a title which at once secures for its wearer without effort, and in almost all societies, a certain deference and assurance of personal position. The Monarchies can even secure these pleasant things to their successful servants for life, for the grant of an Order, eapecially where, as in England, it conveys "a handle to one's name," unless it has been distributed too recklessly, is only less valued than a hereditary degree. It is the custom everywhere just now to despise knighthoods because they have been scattered too profusely ; but there are very few of the Orders conferred by the greater Sovereigns which their recipients are inclined to reject, and some of them, like the Golden Fleece and the Garter, are objects of ambition to men of the very highest rank among subjects. Republics are for the most part compelled to dispense with these cheap rewards for great service. Switzerland bestows none, even on men like the General who defeated the Sonderbund, who have by the admission of their fellow-citizens, saved the nation; and America refuses them even to men, like Admiral Dewey, who by strik_ ing a note of victory at the beginning of a war have doubled the national force. All that Republics can do is to publicly vote the thanks of the community, which, though in one way they confer the highest honour possible, do not mark out their recipient in the eyes of men who are ignorant of his services. France, for once illogical, dues no doubt do this when she confers the Legion of Honour, for that compels every soldier to present arms, and is visible to all eyes in the shape of a ribbon, but she has spoiled the distinction by dis- tributing it too widely.
We hold it to be certain that the majority of men desire distinction ; and as service must be rewarded, and as it is open to any man to refuse to receive an unacceptable reward, we do not quite perceive why Republics should voluntarily deprive themselves of a valuable prerogative. That they must refuse hereditary degrees we understand, for in granting them they would establish, or at all events approve, the system of undeserved rank, which is hostile to the very principle upon which Republics are founded. They are not fully successful in their asceticism, for the descendants of a great man are honoured merely on account of their rank, and it is many generations before the community forgets a Carnot, a Lincoln, or a Garibaldi. Indeed it is not certain that they do forget at all, the Swiss possessing a kind of aristocracy of families sprung from ancestors who have served the State, and all Europe honouring a few names wholly apart from any decora- tion they may happen to possess. Napoleon's flatterers held that they had done much for him when they showed, as they either thought or affected to think, that he was descended from the Comneni. Still, one does not expect a Republic to confer hereditary rank; bat we do not quite perceive why rank for life, which is really conferred by Providence when it grants success to soldier, or sailor, or states- man, should be refused by the community. Titles are prac- tically not refused, so long as they have no feudal stamp, for the words General, Admiral, ancien Minis tre, or ex-Presi- dent are for all practical purposes, titles, and convey very definite rank. There seems no objection, at least we cai. think of none, to an Order of Merit or Service—we should prefer Service—if it were not hereditary, and if it conferred no privilege recognised by law. As a matter of fact, the public often insists on bestowing one—for example, a great poet like Browning always receives one—and we can see no reason against its legalisation. It will be objected that it would by degrees come to be granted to the undeserving, or to mere wealth, or to merit which, though existing, was inadequate ; but that would be the fault of the community which conferred it, not of the system. We
believe that a Republican Order of Merit, never con- ferred except by statute, and therefore after debate, strictly limited as to number, and made visible by, say, a minute flag to be affixed to the lapel on all occasions, would in a few years be as highly valued as the Golden Fleece or the Garter is among the Monarchies of Europe, and would be an additional incentive to the loftiest ambitions. We would give no money with the decoration, for an inadequate grant would be shameful, and an adequate one would create grudging, and no privilege except the one already granted ia the United States, the right on occasion to a silent seat in the Legislative Chambers. The honour should be an honour only, and should continue only for life; but it should be a rare one, and visible to every one who gazed. We cannot see that the community would be in any way injured or vulgarised by such a system, while we can see that the disposition to do it service of the highest kind would be decidedly increased.
"Very ignoble," Bays some one 'you should serve the com- munity without any hope of reward either in honour or in cash." Very true, and if the community bad no need of men less exalted in temper than the speaker the argument would be quite sufficient; but our present contention is that it has need. It has need of all kinds of men, and the majority, especially of the very strong, desire, in a world which they find partly unintelligible, to impress themselves perceptibly upon their fellow men. Nothing facilitates that effort like the permanent recollection of past services to the community, which distinction, when not hereditary, tends to foster or ensure. This impressiveness, though the envious dislike it, helps to keep up the standard of admiration, and to rouse in the minds of the young more especially that comfort is not the ideal, and that there are higher ends in life than hunting down heiresses or killing lions on the tropical hills. It is not philosophers or ascetics whom you have to encourage to be good, but the men who to high ability unite an average morale. To them hardly any temptation is so strong as distinction which will endure through life. Distinction is socially injurious ? Very good, but do be consistent; paint the beautiful with caustic and chop off the feet of the tall, for beauty and height are great distinctions, always visible, and always recognised even by those in whom they create only envy.
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