s thoroughly by a charming
little picture as by his words. It is a picture of Queen Elizabeth as
she is about to trample with disdain on the coat which that snob Raleigh
is throwing for her use on the mud before her. This is intended to
typify the low parasite nature of the Englishman which has been
described in the previous page or two. "And of these calm
moralists,"--it matters not for our present purpose who were the
moralists in question,--"is there one I wonder whose heart would not
throb with pleasure if he could be seen walking arm-in-arm with a couple
of dukes down Pall Mall? No; it is impossible, in our condition of
society, not to be sometimes a snob." And again: "How should it be
otherwise in a country where lordolatry is part of our creed, and where
our children are brought up to respect the 'Peerage' as the Englishman's
second Bible." Then follows the wonderfully graphic picture of Queen
Elizabeth and Raleigh.
In all this Thackeray has been carried away from the truth by his hatred
for a certain meanness of which there are no doubt examples enough. As
for Raleigh, I think we have always sympathised with the young man,
instead of despising him, because he felt on the impulse of the moment
that nothing was too good for the woman and the queen combined. The idea
of getting something in return for his coat could hardly have come so
quick to him as that impulse in favour of royalty and womanhood. If one
of us to-day should see the queen passing, would he not raise his hat,
and assume, unconsciously, something of an altered demeanour because of
his reverence for majesty? In doing so he would have no mean desire of
getting anything. The throne and its occupant are to him honourable, and
he honours them. There is surely no greater mistake than to suppose that
reverence is snobbishness. I meet a great man in the street, and some
chance having brought me to his knowledge, he stops and says a word to
me. Am I a snob because I feel myself to be graced by his notice? Surely
not. And if his acquaintance goes further and he asks me to dinner, am I
not entitled so far to think well of myself because I have been found
worthy of his society?
They who have raised themselves in the world, and they, too, whose
position has enabled them to receive all that estimation can give, all
that society can furnish, all that intercourse with the great can give,
are more likely to be pleasant companions than they who have been less
for
|