- fairs, who, embarrassed neither by the principles of the philosopher
nor by the prejudices of the bigot, can assume, with a cautious facility, the prevalent tone, and disembarrass himself of it, with a dexterous ambiguity, the moment it ceases to be predominant: recommending himself to the innovator by his approbation of change 'in the abstract,' and to the conservative by his prudential and practical respect for that which is established; such a man, though he be one of an essentially small mind, though his intellectual qualities be less than moderate, with feeble powers of thought, no imagination, contracted sympathies, and a most loose public morality; such a man is the individual whom kings and parliaments would select to govern the State or rule the Church."
It is not to be supposed, however, that the people would
choose any better than kings and parliaments; on the contrary,—[1]
"The Thirty at Athens were at least tyrants. They were
marked men. But the obscure majority, who, under our
present constitution, are destined to govern England, are
as secret as a Venetian conclave. Yet on their dark voices
all depends."
The trend of the succeeding novelists is toward a modified
liberalism, but Meredith is the only one to satirize
the reactionary attitude as such. The others throw the
emphasis elsewhere. Besides, even such humanitarians as
Dickens, Gaskell, Reade, and Kingsley, are dubious as to
the remedial power of popular government, and seem inclined
toward Carlyle's view of Chartism. What Chesterton
says of one of them would not be untrue applied to
the rest:[2]
