ARLINGTON

Is one of those books which we value very little as a whole, and very much in parts. In some instances, the story and the inci- dents form the sole attraction of a book of fiction ; in some, they are only agreeable vehicles for remarks on life and manners, and serve to help an essayist over the ground : but in the case of

Arlington, the story and the people are in the way,—we skip adventures to get at the remarks. In fact, the author's conceptions

of character are not lively, and he does not support a dialogue with

either natural or unaffected brilliancy. Arlington is a great effort on the part of a sensible and clever man ; who is, however, greatly

deficient in mercury. He neither wants point nor wit, in polishing up an observation or in setting off an opinion; but sadly wants buoyancy of genius. His people do not live or breathe the breath

of life; they are fashionable fantoccini ; and the Honourable Mr. LISTER is very plainly seen tugging at the strings with all his might, leaving off every now and then to wipe his forehead, and throw out a sly remark aside.

Thinking thus of Arlington, we shall forget that it is a novel ; and, treating it only as a pleasant book on society, refer to some of the opinions and remarks which are worthy of observation.

It is very creditable in Mr. LISTER, himself a member of the aristocracy, to be nearly the first in censuring the absurd manner

in which aristocratic distinctions are set up and kept up at the Universities. If the wit of man had laboured for ages to discover regulations which should be the most injurious to all parties con- cerned, none could have been devised better adapted than those made respecting the education of our hereditary legislators at Cam- bridge and Oxford.

On occasion of the entrance of his hero at one of the colleges of Cambridge, Mr. LISTER makes the following sensible, and, to those who know the extent of the folly, very striking remarks on this subject,

That much which is valuable may be, and is acquired, at that celebrated University, it would be folly to dispute ; but it does not appear that a due

share of the advantages which it may afford are fairly meted to the aristocracy.. The period of their stay there is abridged by their premature acquisition of a degree, which, while it comes late to others as the reward of merit and exertion, is by them obtained early and without a struggle, as a privilege accorded to their rank.

While thus encouraged to abstain from unnecessary applications, they are petted and puffed up with the exclusive possession of ridiculous distinctions—

distinctions which would have suited hardly any period of English society, and certainly not the present. While our public schools arc outrageously demo- cratic, and degrade into menials boys of gentle birth, the system of the English

Universities is, in the contrary extreme, aristocratic in its usages to a degree with which the habits of society are not in accordance. At Cambridge, the tenth son of an Irish Baron, if he choose to put on the nobleman's gown, finds himself fenced round with privilege, and a line of demarcation drawn between him and the sons of untitled parents, as strong almost as royalty can claim in the levelling commerce of society. He is bowed out of chapel by the obsequious master, while the tutors and fellows follow humbly in his train. He is placed above ;hem at table, and separated by their interposition from the approach of those who are admitted to another very ridiculous privilege, that of being fellow or gentlemen commoners. Wealth in this country often leads to rank, therefore wealth as well as rank must have its due distinction; and those who are born to wealth, and come to the University to spend more and learn less than the rest of the under-grade- ates, are entitled to a distinguishing dress of a more showy appearance, en- couraged by better rooms, admitted to the fellows' table, and made free of the heavy festivities of the Combination-room. Distinctions, which society barely recognizes, are here made broad, and, if possible, important. The nobleman Ma his silken gown, and the wealthy commoner parades in a robe like the Chan- cellor of. the.Exchequer. But there is an intermediate link ; the Baronetage must not be overlooked ; and the sons of this body are, as a tribute to the " order," allowed to dispense with the University cap, and wear the hat in its stead !

In a place of which education is the ostensible object, it might be thought that every part of the system ought in some degree to conspire to the end of instruction. But it may be fairly demanded, what good end is to be produced by forms and distinctions, which at a time when those outward shows have more effect than in after life, tend to impress an undue consideration for the ad- ventitious advantages of rank and wealth,—which draw broad lines of demar- cation unrecognized by the usages of society between classes which they ought rather to assimilate and combine,—which endeavour to make the poor man more sensible of his poverty, and the rich man of his wealth, and which; by the -spontaneous gift of a valueless degree, take away the stimulus to exertion from a class in whom, as they have more inducements to be idle, it is more particularly desirable that exertion should he strongly encouraged ? What advantages Lord Arlington deri ved from his two years' residence at Cambridge, it would be very difficult to say. Respect for the ceremonies of re- ligion was inculcated by the employment of the chapel service for the purpose of a muster-roll ; and lest it should be supposed to have any higher object, his frequent attendance was dispensed with because he was a nobleman. There was no incitement to pursue the studies of the University beyond the very gentle solicitations of his very goodnatured tutor, who candidly confessed, when pressed by his pupil with regard to the prospective advantages to be derived from pre- sent exertion, that as his lordship was in want neither of a fellowship nor of a profession, lie really could not clearly de the use of it. The only stimulus to literary exertion which he received, was from the establishment of a debating so- ciety, of which he became a member during the last term of his sojourn ; and for the purpose of shining in this, he read history and composed speeches, which he delivered with considerable success. But this, his only profitable literary occupation, was regarded with an evil eye by the authorities of the University ; and though he did not stay to witness the suppression of the society, that fatal blow was soon given to its existence. It is supposed that nineteen was considered too tender an age for a com- mencement of the political education of men who are enabled by the law of the laud to become legislators at one-and-twenty ; and that up to the day when they may take a part in the councils of the nation, they are to abstain from the dangerous interest of modern history, and the practice of argumentative logic ;

and theymust content themselves with those classical histories from which, so differently is society now constituted, it is almost impossible to draw any pro- fitable deduction, and with a process of reasoning which, strongly as it may ex- ercise the mental faculties, is least applicable to the business of life, and least fits us for its due performance.

Then follow some observations on the society of a university, which are quite as true as the preceding, and more general.

Little, in truth, does any one gain from the society of an university. Many who laud most its social advantages, are men who aspire to an admission into what they call good society, by a not very reputable subserviency to such as are either richer or better born than themselves. The wealthy manufacturer, who sends his son bedizened with the tinsel of a fellow-commoner's gown, to lose his money to Lord John and lend his horses to Lord William, thinks too often that he has done a fine thing for him, and established him permanently in aristocra- tical society ; but it may be questioned whether either the young manufacturer, Lord Jolla, or Lord William, are at all benefited by the connexion. Inde- pendence of character and honourableness of feeling are too probably injured in all : in the former, by the early development of purse-pride, and the habit of toadyism ; in the latter, by training' them in the sharper-li e practice of preying on the fully of others, and bartering, for sordid considerations, that intimacy which should have been accorded only to fiiendship. Independent of such miserable truckling, it may be doubted if young men of about the same age herding together, without any intermixture of those who are older, and debarred from the benefits of female society. can ever, in a social point of view, do each other much good. The tendency of such exclusive asso- ciation is to make them selfish and coarse-minded, and deficient in that conside- ration for others to which society owes its most enduring charm. Lord Arlington found at Cambridge few desirable associates. There were several at the University who might have been so esteemed, but want of oppor- tunity prevented him from mixing with them. Circumstances were more in fault than he. College etiquette prevents one of later standing from seeking the acquaintance of a senior-undergraduate, from whom must come the first ad- vance. His rank, which was there so preposterously denoted, and fenced round with outward distinctions, had made him less approachable by the generality, and threw him necessarily much into the society of those who belonged to the same class or were of the same college with himself. From among his own class the choice was limited and uninviting. Two Irish Yahoos, a North country jockey, a sot, two gamblers, a coxcomb, and a fribble, composed the brilliant assortment, out of which, among the wearers of full- sleeved gowns, Lord Arlington might select a friend. -That he admitted not one of them to that distinction, is a circumstarov creditable to his judgment ; but that he lived much with them, and others like them, though it may be said in his defence that it would have been difficult to avoid it, is certainly little credit- able to his taste. With them he went through a course of wretched yet costly mimicries of what are considered the pleasures of "the world." He pretended to enjoy hunting, which Melton would have scorned ; driving, which seemed recommended by nothing but prohibition and danger ; got headaches with bad wine and insufferable compounds of the punch genus ; and gave, hi low, smoky, ill-furnished rooms, extremely bad dinners, at a cost which should have pro- cured him the services of Ude.

There is a contrast between the House of Lords and the House of Commons as schools of oratory, which is followed by this very correct character of the debates in the Commons— For eloquence, intelligence, and general enlightenment, perhaps there neither is, nor ever has been, an assembly comparable to the British House of Com- mons; but whoever will examine its debates, will find them marked by charac- teristics which the nature of the assembly would-not prepare him to expect. He will discover too often a narrowness of view, a dismrard of general principles, a proneness to temporize, a suspicious abhorrence of 'an abstract proposition, a logic which is really shallow when it is meant to be most practical, and shuts out the diffusive light of principle by the interposition of partially exhibited facts; and most of all, will he discover a low ad captandum method of ground- ing the most prominent arguments upon temporary expedients, and the prejudice and clamour of the day. Undoubtedly, a disposition to recur perpetually to first principles, marks ra- ther the youth thin the matured vigour of legislative wisdom. Undoubtedly, we in England are rich in the fruits of political experience. The axioms of the constitutional philosopher have with us long been moulded into practice, and we can take much for granted which other nations would labour to prove. Their goal is our starting-place. We have passed the period of abstract reason- ing, and its utility is seldom perceived. Nevertheless, it must not be disre- garded, for it is often necessary; and it is to be feared that with us. disuse may an some degree have produced not merely a disinclination, but almost an ina- bility to employ it effectively. Theorist is made a term of measureless reproach; and a deep and stabile -reasoner, if • he -presumes-to deal itt- general -tennwis scouted as specious and unsound. .Those who cannot-easily unravel' the web ,of argument, cut the cord and cast it from them. The arithmetician with his fi- gures is admitted to be useful, while the algebraist with his general expression would be scorned by reasoners of this class, because he was a theorist and not practical. Look at a debate on any great question ; see how very little attention is,gven to a discussion of its principles, and when given, to how. ittle purpose. hat an absence of comprehensiveness in the view of it ! what an eager nibbling at its outworks ! what a frequent departure from the real merits of the question !. and what a waste of ingenuity on irrelevant attacks ! A man who has grappled, however eloquently, with the real substantial merits of a question, who has viewed it comprehensively, and probed it deeply, will be said to have uttered a good essay or a clever treatise, but not an effective Parliamentary speech. No —the palm of sincere applause will be given to the dexterous skirmishing. de- bater, who knows how to avoid the depths of his subject, and sports amusingly in the glittering shallows ; who makes no hard demands upon the reasoning fa- culties of his auditors, but appeals to their memories rather than to their judg- ment; who undermines a motion which he cannot condemn, by an ingenious charge of inconsistency in the mover. He who reminds the House, that ore such anoccasion such an honourable member did use certain expressions (which he will take the liberty of reading from the Mirror of Parliament), which are not in accordance with the present sentiments of that honourable member—he who is rich in the ready use of specious quotations of seeming appositeness, and can furnish fur the discomfiture of an adversary the suppressed remainder of . a mutilated passage,—this is the orator who commands applause; who, though he leaves untouched the question before him, is said to have spoken effectively and to the purpose, and to have attained that highest praise which Parliament accords, that of being a good debater.

Mr. LISTER seems quite unconscious of the cause of the distinc- tions he points out. Members enter the House bound to vote in a particular manner. It is not a deliberative assembly. What more disgusting than argument to a man who must not be troubled. with conviction? whereas, on the contrary, what so • pleasant as a brilliant joke to one worn out with keeping up the farce of debate? On minor points, the member is willing to hear and to discuss, for to these he is not bound; but arguments on the gene- ral principle are idle, for it is felt all through the assembly that it is not principle, but interest—the interests of certain classes—that must decide the question. By way of relief to this somewhat serious matter, we quote a sketch of dandy travelling, which will show that Mr. LISTER can be gay as well as grave— "Listen," said he, "and you will hear more of the uses and advantages at travel."

Mr. Theobald at that instant was speaking to Lord Bolsover.

" I will just tell you what I did. Brussels, Frankfort, Berlin, Vienna, Munich, Milan, Naples, and Paris; and all that in two months. No man has ever done it in less."

" That's a fast thing; but I think I could have done it," said Lord Bolsover; "with a good courier. I had a fellow once, who could ride a hundred miles a day for a fortnight."

" I came from Vienna to Calais," said young Leighton, " in less time than the Government courier. No other Englishman ever did ;hat." " Hem ! I aims not sure of that," said Lord Bolsover ; "but I'll just tell you what I have done—from Rome to Naples in nineteen hours; a fact, upon my honour—and from Naples to Paris in six days."

"Partly by sea ? "

" No ! all by land ;" replied Lord Bolsover, with a look of proud satis- faction.

"I'll just tell you what I did," Mr. Leighton chimed in again, "and I think it is a devilish, good plan—it shows what one can do. I went straight an cud, as fast as I could, to what was to he the end of my journey. This was Sicily; so straight away I went there at the devil's own rate, and never stopped any where by the way ; changed horses at Rome and all those places, and landed in safety in — I forget exactly how long limn the time of starting, but I have got it down to an odd minute. As for the places I left behind, I saw them all on my way back, except the Rhine, and I steamed down that in the night-time. " I have travelled a good deal by night," said Theobald. " With a dormeuse and travelling- lamp I think it is pleasant, and a good plan of getting on." "And you can honestly say, 1 suppose," said Denbigh, "that you have slept successfully through as much fine country as any man living?"

" Oh, I did see the country—that is, all that was worth seeing. My courier knew all about that, and used to stop and wake ins whenever we came to any thing remarkable. Gad ! I have reason to remember it, too, for I caught an infernal bad cold one night when I turned out by lamplight to look at a water- fall. I never looked at another."

This could only be true of Englishmen, of whom GOETHE said, justly enough, they were alternately the ridicule and the envy of the world.