The admiration, and just admiration, for open-handed generosity and the justifiable dislike of anything approaching miserliness in others cause an entirely erroneous impression that large gifts of money must unquestionably be praiseworthy and commendable. But this is not the question at issue. These are two moral qualities, the one admirable, the other objectionable. The generous disposition can show itself in many other ways besides money gifts, and the real man behind the rich man, though he may be one and the same individual, often comes forward with simple acts of thoughtful kindness because the finer qualities of human nature cannot be stifled even by money. But in so far as the rich man indulges his generosity in thoughtlessly giving away money broadcast, it amounts to a form of self-indulgence, and he is distinctly to blame for not estimating more precisely the effect of his actions. No doubt the harm of unwise and foolish actions is palliated by the purity and excellence of the motive. In so far as these people intend to show kindness they are amply justified in what they do. But let us consider for a moment what the effect of their benevolence is. In the first place they are made to occupy an entirely false position as dispensers of charity. Often, too, the desire to patronise and gain the power that patronage gives blights the spirit of genuine and unadulterated kindness, and further, the recipients are placed in the extremely uncomfortable and embarrassing situation of receiving benefits, presents, and comforts which they know they are not and probably never will be in a position to return. To force anyone to be under a lasting obligation is not the most likely way of generating pure gratitude. There are many who refuse outright rather than place themselves in this position: there are some who take full advantage of the generosity and, what is commonly called, “sponge” on their benefactors, and if the possessors of abundance refuse either from principle or out of indifference to give freely they are severely blamed and generally regarded as ungenerous and stingy. The virtues were once called to a banquet by “the Lord of All.” They talked and laughed and each one knew the other well, but:
“Benevolence and Gratitude
Alone of all seemed strangers yet;
They stared when they were introduced,
On earth they never once had met.”[9]
In fact, the whole atmosphere created, not by an isolated gift which has cost the donor more than actual cash, but by the habit of doles, bounty, and patronage is unhealthy and disturbing and ultimately undermines the foundations of natural human relations and mutual friendship.
An excuse will be sought for in the plea that the exercise of hospitality is a duty performed by the rich with some success. If the hospitality of the rich is ever truly successful it is here again the man, and not his money, that brings this about. Crowds of guests at country houses or dinner parties who regard their host and hostess as nothing more than innkeepers or restaurant proprietors are common enough, and it is a well-known expedient for those who are busy “climbing” (and their name is Legion) to use hospitality as a means of getting hold of the “right people.” But the small gathering met together in a common interest and mutual regard to enjoy the warming intercourse of friendship does not require the accompaniment of a ten-course dinner nor the surroundings of a vast establishment, and is, happily, as easily within the reach of the poorer sections of the community as of the rich. Money, therefore, does not facilitate or elevate hospitality. It manifestly tends to lower its quality and depreciate its value.
It may be argued further in connection with large establishments and hospitality that certain noble traditions founded on an excusable pride of family or race are to be found attached to the great historic establishments of the nobility. There is no great harm in this sentiment and from the archæological point of view it has a certain attractive interest. But it is too much for the high nobility to expect that they can continue to carry on these traditions throughout all time, preserving the habits and customs of past ages in a world that has changed and will continue to change. No one will quarrel with them if they ask that their lineage and family history should be respected, but money will not help them now, and when they consider themselves entitled to administer autocratically their millions in order to preserve their princely dignities, they are asking for privileges which the modern economic State and the growth of democracy are every year showing more and more to be inconsistent with good government and the healthy life of the people. And often by their riches they only succeed in reproducing a somewhat vulgar travesty of the splendour and distinction of their ancestors in bygone ages.
The typical instance we are examining has been described as a landlord who owns villages and keeps his cottages carefully repaired (this, we may note in passing, is not by any means the invariable practice). He dispenses charity to the villagers with open-handed generosity, providing thoughtfully the sack of coals in winter, the occasional pound of tea, the knitted waistcoats for the little boys, the scarves and hoods for the little girls, and what could be more idyllic than to see the children bobbing curtsies and touching their caps to the people from the great house?
As a matter of fact, this sham feudalism is generally upheld more by a love of power and patronage than by kindness of heart. Our landlord is consciously proud of having people directly dependent on him whom he can order according to his will (even at election time), whom he can enrich or impoverish as he judges right, and can remove from his cottages when they do not please him. If the result is spick and span to the eye and he is greeted by smiles of apparent gratitude he feels, and it is difficult to disillusion him, that his methods are successful, and he is induced to believe that his actions are justified and his presence in the community indispensable. But what kind of impression is in reality produced on those who come under his sway? Not gratitude, because they soon begin to regard his gifts as a natural right, and knowing that the squire can easily afford so much, discontent is likely to be roused that he does not give more. Consequently a whole class of people are retained devoid of all the self-reliance and energy which independence alone can give. Without their being aware of it, the yoke of subjection is placed upon them under the guise of beneficent charity, weighing them down, creating in them false habits of cringing subservience, and indefinitely postponing the day of their liberation.
The landlord is not the elected chief of a village community whom the people can feel to be one of themselves, chosen by them and removable by them. Under such circumstances service is no longer subservience, for congregations of human beings will always seek out their leaders, organisers, managers, or controllers. But this landlord has imposed himself upon them, or is the descendant of one who imposed himself on their fathers, who took, in fact, what was once rightfully theirs, enclosed it or confiscated it. To go no further back than the Enclosure Acts, one can note the irreparable wrongs that were then committed by those who had the political power in their hands. Arthur Young reported in 1801 that “by nineteen Enclosure Acts out of twenty the poor are injured, and in some cases greatly injured.” The protests made at the time were practically unheeded by an aristocracy too much absorbed in making its fortune to give a thought to the ruin of the classes that were losing their little inheritance in the common fields or the common waste. We repeat, the landlord has imposed himself upon them; this he can do, and will continue to do, not because he is particularly fitted by special training for the administration of landed property, nor even because he has a strong preference for the pursuit of agriculture, but simply and solely because he has money. To state his one qualification for the position he holds is quite sufficient to prove its falseness and absurdity.
In the argument we are following the underlying principle, which might be called the doctrine of human incapacity, or more correctly, perhaps, of human limitations, becomes more evident with regard to the rich man’s landed property than his other possessions and investments, especially if we are inclined to believe that the earth’s surface and its minerals, by their very nature, like light, air, and water, should be part of the common inheritance of man.
Can an estate of many thousands of acres be developed and cultivated to its fullest extent in every corner under the guidance of one individual, who, even though he may have exceptional knowledge of farming and may use skilled agents, is nevertheless concerned with many other interests which he desires to serve? Are there any of the large estates which can be pointed to as models? Are there not rather many estates that serve as striking instances of the failure of the system? Are there not acres upon acres of land which might be yielding great abundance, real wealth for the nation, which are either badly managed, neglected, left as waste, or kept for sporting purposes? There is no need to mention the building land which is often held up by them until the efforts of the local community have increased the value sufficiently to yield them a substantial increment, because this is a source of income and not an object on which they spend money. On agriculture they do spend money, and they ask, in consequence, that the ownership of land should be recognised as “an industry.”[10] They ask, “above all, the right to select the persons to be associated with the proprietor in his cultivation of the soil.”[11] The good landlord who is something of an agriculturist and devotes time and trouble to his property is often in despair at his want of success, which he attributes to the burdens on land, to our fiscal system, or to the incompetence of the agricultural labourer, and he is always declaring his land to be a drain on his wealth rather than a source of income, but never does it cross his mind for an instant that possibly he himself is undertaking a task which is far beyond his powers and that his pretensions are quite unjustifiable.