TITLES.
TICERE was a good deal of ostentatious contempt for titles in that amusing little conversation of yesterday week, between the Baronet who leads the teetotallers and the Knight who leads the House of Commons, which intervened as a sort of playful interlude between the hard-hitting of the debate on the Registration Bill at the end of the morning sitting, and the dreary little disquisition on Bimetallism, in the midst of which the House was counted out. But Sir Wilfrid Lawson's elaborate scorn for his own Baronetcy as a title in virtue of which he had fallen between the two stools of the Peerage he had not attained and the distinction on the strength of which he had "ceased to be a gentleman," and Sir William Harcourt's confidence that if Sir Wilfrid Lawson had to give a reason for the "merely transient honours" of his own official Knighthood and official Privy Councillorship, he would "extol him far beyond his merits," were a good deal overdone. Neither the one nor the other would probably quite like to sink into the "dim, common populations" of untitled men, though they do make so merry at the expense of the decorations which they affect not to value, and yet feel so admirably appropriate, as it were, to the func- tions they are accustomed to discharge. Could Sir Wilfrid Lawson banter both himself and other men so freely as he does, if he were not conscious of being raised a little above the common herd, and therefore not liable to be thought as insignificant as he is disposed to make himself ? As for the Leader of the House, no man knows his own dis- tinction better, or is less inclined to identify the heir of the Plantagenets with the common politicians whom it is his duty to guide. Whatever cheap moralities may be uttered about the rank being "but the guinea stamp," and the men being the gold "for a' that," there are very few people who have the guinea stamp, who do not manage to feel that there is some- thing singularly natural about their possession of that stamp, and who would not regard themselves as stripped of their natural costume if they were suddenly to wake up without their titles. Sir Wilfrid Lawson would certainly not poke half the fun at unreal distinctions that he does, if he did not feel his own distinction rather real after all, and Sir William Harcourt's assumption of surprise as to how "in the name of for- tune" he became a Knight and a Privy Councillor, would never be displayed with so much emphasis and effect as it is, if he did not feel quite easy that his hearers do not wonder at all about the matter. The truth, no doubt, is that a title has the singular effect of rendering the men who bear it quite confident that they could do very well without it. But that is just because it lubricates their passage through life so effectually that they can hardly conceive how much less easy they might find it, if they were not thus insensibly raised above their fellows. Men with a title make light of their title, just because the title has secured them a respect, —and a self-respect,—which renders their movements easy and free,—so easy and free that they cannot well imagine themselves under the various constraints and obstructions of ordinary men. The title has become part and parcel of their social being.
Lord Melbourne used to say,—as Sir William Harcourt reminded the House,—that there was only one Order in the world worth having, and that was the Garter, because there was no merit attached to it at all, and that was what made it the first Order in Europe. And therein Lord Melbourne showed his usual shrewdness. The distinction men love best is the distinc- tion which, instead of making a man distinguished, merely singles him out as already being so distinguished that no reason needs to be given for distinguishing him farther. The Garter practically says, 'Here is the man whom every one will agree, to think distinguished. The Garter receives dis- tinction from him, rather than gives distinction to him.' And that is precisely the kind of testimony which men covet most. What they desire to think of themselves, is that they do not need that any external reason should be assigned for the honour in which they are held; that that honour is indeed, inevitable, and is a natural consequence of their being what they are. "Merit" is something earned by effort and labour. But what people love most is distinction which is quite independent of effort and labour, which is embedded in their nature like genius or manner or breeding. To be well bred, is not at a man's own command. But for that very reason,
it is many times as valuable to most men as any quality which can be acquired. What a man earns, he is very apt to depreciate. What he receives from Nature, he is excessively proud of, sometimes even though it be very closely inter- twined with original sin. There are probably hundreds of persons who are prouder of their hauteur or their fastidious- ness or their gallantry or their fascinations, than they are of their acquired skill or knowledge. The skilful physician will plume himself most on his social powers; the skilful politician on his theological views ; the skilful lawyer on his rank as a sportsman or a literary man. The qualities which are most evidently the consequences of a man's own efforts, are very apt to be those which he least values, while he is exceedingly jealous of his reputation for those which he regards as the most ingrained. If children, as Lord Palmerston thought, had been all "born good," they would not have been so proud as they often are of being naughty, and so indignant at being thought good. It is frequently the single or double dose of ori- ginal sin on which men pique themselves the most. A woman would often exchange half her best capacities for a little liveli- ness as a flirt, or a man for the real or fancied power of being a "lady-killer." That which each supposes to be most deeply identified with his own personality, is very apt to be what he values most in his own character and position. That, we take it, is why Orders of merit are prized so much less than Orders which are never conferred except as distinguishing afresh uni- versally recognised distinctions.
Yet, after all, there is something in Sir William Harcourt's paradox that the injustice of conferring titles of honour which are not deserved is more or less compensated by the in- justice of not conferring titles of honour which are deserved. The illustration taken from Lord Erskine's plea that if, as advocate, he had lost many causes which he ought to have won, he had also won many causes which he ought to have lost, and that "on the average," therefore, the result was satisfactory, was more than irrelevant. For, of course, every cause which he won that he ought to have lost, aggravated instead of attenuating the evil of his having lost causes which he ought to have won. But fortunately, in the ease of titles, it is not at all true that either the neglect of merit is necessarily an evil, or even that the decoration of demerit may not be a good. It not unfrequently happens that a man who has done good service to the State is much the better, instead of the worse, for being left in obscurity, and sometimes even it happens that the reputation of a man who has only seemed to do good service without doing it, is exploded all the sooner for receiving the decoration which he did not deserve. In short, it is not so much the moral appropriateness of a title of honour to the individual on whom it is conferred, which benefits society, as the general knowledge that titles of honour may be obtained by meritorious work. This benefits society by giving a certain stimulus to the endeavours of multitudes who never actually obtain such titles. The variety introduced into social life, the emulation and self- respect and general hopefulness to which these distinctions give rise, are probably of vastly greater service than the effect they produce on those who actually win them. It is too often only an injury to a man to obtain a decoration, even when he has well deserved it, though sometimes it may be an injury that he does not obtain it when he ought to have obtained it. But on the whole it is impossible to deny that the effect exerted on average men by the prospect of obtain- ing these social prizes is beneficial rather than otherwise, not because they are generally wisely and justly bestowed, but because they add to the motives for energy, and multiply the interests of public life. Though many honours are un- deservedly given and many are undeservedly withheld, yet, "on the average," society is benefited, and sometimes quite as much benefited by those which are not appropriately conferred as by those which are.
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