"But am I not telling you, my dear sir," interrupted the subdean, "that I think all the quarrels in the world can never convince mankind—the poor as well as the rest—that the quarrellers are the friends of mankind? If the Blue party be so bitterly bent on ruining the poor, as you say they are—let us carry relief into the houses of the poor always in the spirit of benevolence, and never as an act to oppose a party. If we look at the very persons we have to relieve, I think we may learn to do this,—for indeed, Mr. Nixon, there is no denying but that the poor are much more skilful in discerning the motives of those who visit them with charitable professions, than they were some years ago."
"Why, sir, what with Methodist cant on the one hand, and demagoguism on the other, the poor are spoilt," replied Mr. Nicholas, in the same tart spirit: "they have the impudence, now-a-days, to pry into the conduct of all ranks and conditions: your cloth does not screen you from their envious inquisitiveness; and they make all kinds of offensive and sneering remarks on respectable people. And then, their pride! Why now, Mr. Subdean, here we are, nearly at St. Botolph's bar, and not a single poor man has paid you a mark of respect, all the way we have walked! Take my word for it, sir,—forty years ago if I had been honoured to walk down the street with a cathedral dignitary, I should have seen every poor man that we met touch his hat to him! I ask you, sir, what is to come of such a state of things?" concluded Mr. Nicholas, in a very earnest and emphatic tone.
The churchman fairly burst into laughter; and had it been any other than a Minster grandee, Gentleman Nixon would have been highly irritated by his mirth. As it was, he began to suspect himself of folly, for having carried his opposition to such an extremity in a merely friendly dialogue.
"Come now, Mr. Nixon," resumed the subdean, in a tone of pleasant expostulation, "does not this very circumstance, of the striking change in manners that you have alluded to, convince you that the hostile course is unwise? Do you expect, now, that the poor can be brought to observe the same outwardly submissive courtesies that their fathers practised when you and I were young?"
"Well, I must confess, I do not," tardily—but perforce of conviction—Mr. Nicholas made answer.
"It would be foolish to expect it, Mr. Nixon," continued the clergyman; "and as they will continue to keep the course they have commenced outwardly, so will they grow in the habit of scrutinising the conduct of those above them. I think the time is nearly at hand when neither Blues nor Pinks, nor any other shade of political party, will be able to raise excitements by attempting to persuade the poor, that these are designing to cheat them, while those are their disinterested and sympathising friends. The times are changed, for the English people are changed: we cannot deny it, since we have here a proof of it, Mr. Nixon."
"That we have, too truly, Mr. Subdean!" echoed Mr. Nicholas, and sighed very dolorously.
"Nay, I do not think there is any cause for regret, in all this," observed his cheerful and more enlightened acquaintance; "whatever severe causes may have operated to produce it, no philanthropist can regret that there is discernible the commencement of a spirit of self-respect on the part of the poor. We are all equal in the sight of our Maker, you know, my friend; and for my part I assure you, I do not desire that the old usages of servility should be resumed, and the great first law of human brotherhood be again lost sight of—for, I suspect, that was too often the fact while the brother in superfine cloth received such frequent obeisance from the brother in ragged linen."
"I must again say you surprise me greatly, sir," observed Gentleman Nixon, beginning again to recover his belligerent humour.
"But do not be surprised, Mr. Nixon," answered the churchman, instantly and persuasively: "the world has changed, though you remain an honest Tory, and——"