Eustace Marchmont: A friend of the people

by Evelyn Everett-Green

“It is, my child, it is, even for the best and wisest on the earth. Let us take comfort in the thought that it is light with God, and that He sees the working out of His eternal purposes, even where most let and hindered by the sin and opposition of man. A time of darkness is upon us—that none can deny—not in this land alone, but in all the lands of Christendom; and you are right in your feeling that it is not the ignorant masses who are alone in fault. We—the Church—the nobility, the great ones of the earth, have failed again and again in our duties towards those below them, and now they have to suffer. Two wrongs do not make one right, and the method in which the ignorant seem like to set to work is not only foolish, but sinful also; and in our sense of sympathy for the people and our self-reprobation, we must not palliate, even though we may partially understand the cause of the sin. It is right that the people should be thought of and rightly done by. God has taught us that again and again; but it is not the ordinance of God that the people should govern—and yet, if I read my Bible and interpret aright, that is what we shall come to in the days of the end; it will no longer be the voice of God, nor yet the voice of the king which will prevail, but the voice of the people; and we shall again hear in newer and more subtle forms that word of blasphemy which tells us that the voice of the people is the voice of God.”

“Ah! do you think so? That is what I have heard said; but surely it will take long, very long, to accomplish?”

“Perhaps; I know not. In France it was accomplished in a few terrible years. Methinks in this land, where God has been so gracious times and again, it may be differently done and with less of terror and bloodshed; but the end will assuredly be the same. One can see, even from a worldly aspect, how it will be accomplished. Men say, and with justice and truth, that there should be in the community, for the good of all, a fair class representation—that is, that each class should have such a voice in the discussion of the affairs of the nation as will secure for that class the meed of justice and consideration to which its position entitles it. At present this is not so. The rising and important middle class have almost no representation, and the labouring and artisan class none. Yet they have a stake in the country, and are entitled to a voice.”

“That is what Eustace says, and it sounds right.”

“It is right, according to my ideas of justice, and will be gradually accomplished, as you know, by extension of franchise and so forth. We need not discuss that theme now. What I mean to point out to you is the danger that threatens us in the future. From claiming a fair class representation as the basis of sound government, the next step will be the theory that every man—or at least every householder—should have a vote, and most plausible reasons will be given for this. Probably in time it will be carried into law, and then you will see at once an end of class representation as well as of fair constitutional government. The power will no longer be balanced. It will all be thrown into the hands of one class, and that the most numerous but the least educated, the least thoughtful, the least capable of clear and sound judgment, because their very conditions of life preclude them from study and the acquisition of the needful knowledge requisite for sound government. The power will be vested in the class the most easily led or driven by unprincipled men, by the class with the least stake in the country, and the least power of seeing the true bearing of a measure which may be very plausible, but absolutely unsound. It may take the people very long to find their power, and perhaps longer still to dare to use it; but in time both these things will be achieved, and then the greatness of England will be at an end; and, as I think, the state of misery and confusion which will ensue will be far, far greater than what she has endured beneath the sway of her so-called tyrants and oppressors.”

Bride heaved a long sigh.

“Eustace would not think that,” she remarked softly.

“No, nor many great men of the day; and time has yet to show whether they are right, or an old parish priest who has been buried alive all his days and knows nothing, as they would argue, of the signs of the times;” and here Mr. St. Aubyn smiled slightly. “Well, well, God knows, and in His good time we shall know. For the present that must content us. Let us not be in haste to condemn. Let us be patient, and full of faith and hope. He has always pointed out a way of escape for His faithful servants and followers before things become too terrible for endurance. Our hope no man can take from us. Let us live in its heavenly light, and then shall we not be confounded at the swelling of the waters and the raging of the flood—those great waters of the latter days—supporting the beast and his scarlet rider, which are peoples, and multitudes, and nations, and tongues, the power of a great and lawless democracy.”

Bride looked awed and grave, yet full of confidence and hope; but the conversation was brought to a close by their arrival at the cottage whither both were bound.