certain "pale cast of thought" on Mr. Chamberlain's youthful, handsome face, which gives an added interest to his charm of manner.
Democracy, it has been alleged, both produces, and is partial to, coarseness in its representatives. The reverse is nearer the truth. Really good manners—the happy way of doing things—can never be acquired in an exclusive or aristocratic society, by reason of the paucity and uniformity of the models; and it is an indisputable fact that Radical constituencies, cœteris paribus, prefer to be represented by men of culture and refinement. Witness the choice by Paris of such representatives as Victor Hugo, Ledru Rollin, and Louis Blanc; and by Massachusetts, of Webster, Adams, Charles Sumner, and many others such. If in England the union of culture and Radicalism is less observable, the reason is not far to seek. Excepting Birmingham, which returns Bright and Chamberlain to Parliament, there are scarcely any genuinely democratic constituencies in this country. We are aristocratic, and therefore coarse in our preferences.
But this does not help me with the ex-mayor, who is not merely a thoughtful political student, but one with whom it is impossible to converse, however briefly, without discerning that he is a man of genuine good feeling, strict integrity, resolute purpose, and unquestioning belief in the people as the only legitimate source of authority. If he is admired by the men of Birmingham, the admiration is at least mutual. He is a singular example of a prophet who is honored in his own country, and who makes no concealment of his conviction that that country is "the hub of the universe."
