especially when
you have lodgings to let. Do not be offended. That sort of man is not
perhaps born to be a painter, but I respect him highly. The world, sir,
requires the vast majority of its inhabitants to live in it,--to live
by it. 'Each for himself, and God for us all.' The greatest happiness
of the greatest number is best secured by a prudent consideration for
Number One."

Somewhat to Kenelm's surprise (allowing that he had now learned enough
of life to be occasionally surprised) the elderly man here made a dead
halt, stretched out his hand cordially, and cried, "Hear, hear! I see
that, like me, you are a decided democrat."

"Democrat! Pray, may I ask, not why you are one,--that would be a
liberty, and democrats resent any liberty taken with themselves; but why
you suppose I am?"

"You spoke of the greatest happiness of the greatest number. That is
a democratic sentiment surely! Besides, did not you say, sir, that
painters,--painters, sir, painters, even if they were the sons of
shoeblacks, were the true gentlemen,--the true noblemen?"

"I did not say that exactly, to the disparagement of other gentlemen and
nobles. But if I did, what then?"

"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 resp