"Sir, I agree with you. I despise rank; I despise dukes and earls and
aristocrats. 'An honest man's the noblest work of God.' Some poet
says that. I think Shakspeare. Wonderful man, Shakspeare. A
tradesman's son,--butcher, I believe. Eh! My uncle was a butcher,
and might have been an alderman. I go along with you heartily,
heartily. I am a democrat, every inch of me. Shake hands, sir, shake
hands; we are all equals. 'Each man for himself, and God for us
all.'"

"I have no objection to shake hands," said Kenelm; "but don't let me
owe your condescension to false pretences. Though we are all equal
before the law, except the rich man, who has little chance of justice
as against a poor man when submitted to an English jury, yet I utterly
deny that any two men you select can be equals. One must beat the
other in something; and, when one man beats another, democracy ceases
and aristocracy begins."

"Aristocracy! I don't see that. What do you mean by aristocracy?"

"The ascendency of the better man. In a rude State the better man is
the stronger; in a corrupt State, perhaps the more roguish; in modern
republics the jobbers get the money and the lawyers get the power. In
well-ordered States alone aristocracy appears at its genuine worth:
the better man in birth, because respect for ancestry secures a higher
standard of honour; the better man in wealth, because of the immense
uses to enterprise, energy, and the fine arts, which rich men must be
if they follow their natural inclinations; the better man in
character, the better man in ability, for reasons too obvious to
define; and these two last will beat the others in the government of
the State, if the State be flourishing and free. All these four