If a man, and especially a young man, cannot contrive to make himself agreeable to important people (women mostly, as they constitute the larger and by far the more important part of Society), he is in the wrong trade as a diplomatist, and will probably end his career as First Secretary at Bahia Blanca. If, then, we find that in all great walks of life-in the Church, in war, in commerce, and in diplomacy—Mr. Thackeray has nothing but abuse and sneers for success; if we find that he loves to portray the ludicrous and the discreditable only, is it unfair to say that he is the Apostle of Mediocrity? Mediocre ways of life, mediocre thoughts, mediocre inclinations (miscalled passions), mediocre achievements—these, if not positively enjoined, as they sometimes are, are in effect all that is left to one who takes Mr. Thackeray for his guide. For the rest, never had a mean gospel so doughty an Apostle. WALTER FREWEN LORD. WHERE THE VILLAGE GENTRY ARE I THE insertion of an article in this Review naturally endows it with a certain authoritative value. It will surely claim the attention of readers interested in the ground it professes to cover, and not improbably may serve as material for future history. When, therefore, any article, written no doubt with honesty of purpose, can be shown to be founded on imperfect knowledge, and to advance inadequate reasons for phenomena, it seems excusable to ask the favour of a few pages in order to correct statements which are certainly unfit to serve as the groundwork of an argument. The subject of Colonel Pedder's article 'Where are the Village Gentry?' in the issue of January 1902, is little less important than the kindred one-already well threshed out-of the exodus of the rural labourer. It is eminently deserving of attention, but treatment of it which is to be of any value must be framed on more complete knowledge than the writer seems to possess. It is an undoubted fact that, in various parts of England, many country houses, ranging from the 'big place' to the mansion of the squire of a few hundred acres, are empty or let to shooting tenants or partially occupied by the shrunken ménage of a tenant farmer; but it is incorrect to assert that this untoward symptom is peculiar to our own time. For the first half of the last century there was little change in the general aspect of rural life, and little improvement of the labourers' condition. As Colonel Pedder remarks, up to the Macadam era each village was a sort of island, and according to his belief the resident squire was a sort of beneficent despot whose influence softened manners and helped to preserve an Arcadia, the existence of which has somehow escaped the notice of the social investigators of the period in question. If he is to be trusted, the newer race of squires has completely changed its ideals, for he describes it as dominated by a desire to rush off to South Kensington in search of culture or recreation, and delicately fastidious of the life and duties which satisfied its predecessors. While lamenting the disappearance of the old type, he admits that the increase of transit facilities and the spread of education have affected all classes alike, the cottage perhaps even more than the hall; but apparently he cannot realise that the maintenance of his squire of the twenties in contemporary village life, with its parish council, its school board, and its memories of Joseph Arch, would represent an anachronism as flagrant as the flail in the barns or the dibbler in the fields. The country squire-and he is really not yet quite extinct—still fits fairly well into his surroundings, changed as the conditions are; indeed, in cases where he frankly recognises the birth of the new order, the class relations of village life are quite as pleasant as ever they were and a great deal healthier. The squire, as I know him, is in no hurry to rush off to the cheerful precincts of the Cromwell Road. In cases where the chief house of the village is deserted by its owner it is seldom owing to the lures which Colonel Pedder imagines to be so potent. The reasons of its relinquishment are nearly always owing to the claims of the mortgagee, the burden of death duties falling due in seasons of rents diminished 60 per cent., or of a dower calculated in the cycle of fat years. A certain number of unfortunates, dispossessed by the causes aforesaid, tread mournfully the brick walks of South Coast watering-places, out of season, or potter round the golf links-and happier here than others in Swiss or German pensions-but the members of this class whom I have met have never impressed me as being voluntarily absent from their villages and their round of duty, which in most cases would be a pleasure as well. No doubt they are soured and embittered in spirit, and this humour is a proof of their regret over the past. I have never left the presence of one of them without recalling Macaulay's beautiful lines on the Jacobite who Heard on La Vernia Scargill's whispering trees, But Colonel Pedder's experience in this matter seems to differ from my own. Doubtless his observation is correct, as far as it goes. I only wish to maintain that all contemporary absentee squires are not of the type he describes. Again, I am convinced he has enormously exaggerated the extent of the desertion of the rural districts by their natural leaders, and that he has specially charged the present era with a characteristic which is to be found in the annals of every country and of every age. Ammianus Marcellinus in his strictures on the inordinate luxury of the Roman nobles deplores this tendency to crowd into the city, and Mr. Matthew Bramble writes in the same vein when he describes to Dr. Lewis the sort of company he met at Bath. My own experience of country life lies in various parts of England. One of these is in East Anglia in a district of less than average amenity. I will take a ten-mile radius from the town of A, and review briefly the condition of the residential houses as compared with the past. The houses in question range from some of the great historic seats in England to those of the smaller squires. They number eighteen, a small number for so large an area, but the existence of great estates accounts for this. In 1875 eleven were inhabited by the owners, two were let to permanent and four to shooting tenants, and one was empty. At the present time ten are inhabited by the owners, three are let to shooting and five to permanent tenants. These figures do not point to anything like a general exodus; indeed, in one parish the son of a small farmer who made a fortune in trade has come back to his native place, bought two or three farms which were in the market, and built for himself a house of some consideration. In another village one good residential house has been built and three farmhouses, formerly unoccupied, or inhabited by labourers or small farmers, have been thoroughly put in order-one, a Jacobean building, has been beautifully restored-and are now occupied by permanent residents. In this particular district the class which has fallen off most in number is that of farmers occupying 200 to 400 acres. Arable farms of this size seem to have failed most completely to stand the strain of the new conditions of agriculture, and they are now hired, three or four together, by men of capital at exceedingly moderate rents, the owners in most cases being ready to accept these rather than undertake the thankless task of farming. The derelict farmhouses do not add to the gaiety of village life; but there is one compensation: the large farmer is a shrewd man of business, keeping himself well abreast of the times, and ready to take his share of public work on district and county councils and on the magisterial bench, where he is no bad substitute for the clerical justice or the squire to the manner born. Colonel Pedder paints the farmer of this type in very dark colours, but I have the pleasure of knowing one or two who differ entirely from the gallant gentleman's sinister presentment; so he may be assured that this is not a class to be described by universal statements. The next district to be considered is a good residential one situated in Wessex. It includes two estates of some magnitude, but almost every village has its gentleman's house. I can count thirtytwo easily. Of these, one is and has been empty for many years, four are occupied by permanent tenants, and the remaining twentyseven are inhabited by the owners. In addition to these, one fine mansion is being built, and an old manor-house, which has been a farmer's dwelling for more than sixty years, has just been restored by a new purchaser at a large cost; moreover, envious eyes—as I happen to know—are cast upon other old houses of the same class by wouldbe restorers. There are no middle-class houses vacant, and if new ones, with a fair amount of land attached, were built they would let Therefore it seems to follow that, if artificial restraints were at once. VOL. LI-No. 301 EE removed by the landowners (who still resent the advent of new residents), the country would be more thickly populated by people of leisure and competence than it ever has been. One other instance to be noted is that of a somewhat remote district in the West country. The radius here is larger, fifteen miles or so from a good town, and it contains about thirty-five houses of the sort under consideration. Of these, five are let to tenants whose residence is more or less continuous, and five to shooting tenants. It may be remarked that the proprietors of most of these live in other houses which they own in the district. The others, twenty-five in number, are inhabited by their owners. Here again there is scarcely a residential house vacant, and a tenant is always found for any one which may be to let. Thus it would appear that in none of the districts quoted is there any dearth of independent residents: there is, indeed, a manifest tendency for them to increase. Colonel Pedder admits that the condition of the labourer is better in villages so favoured; therefore a few square miles of England are still free from the curse of absenteeism. It would be better, no doubt, if all landowners resided more continuously on their estates, and did their duty after the fashion of the late Lori Wantage; but this would mean a state of society wellnigh ideal. Rural England has certainly never known anything like it; it is doubtful indeed whether, taking the population as a whole, it has ever fared better than it is faring now. Up to 1850 the wealthier classes certainly had things more to their taste, their rule over the peasantry was well-nigh absolute, and it is to be feared they sometimes abused their power. At any rate, it is hard to see why anyone should lament their deposition. In dealing with this part of his subject, Colonel Pedder affirms that, in the last generation, the farmers have gone up and the poor have stayed where they were a statement in direct contradiction to what he writes elsewhere concerning the conditions of modern village life. The farmer may have gone up in intelligence-it is to be hoped he has-but can anyone seriously maintain that the labouring classes are none the brighter for all the money spent on them in education? In one respect the farmer has gone down, and rightly: that is in the culpably extravagant style of living affected by too many of them in the fifties and sixties. I venture to make this assertion in spite of Colonel Pedder's Welsh farmers who were too fat to pass through the turnstiles at the Agricultural Show. The Crimean War brought high prices. Men rushed for farms, and rents naturally went up. With five men clamouring for one farm it could hardly be counted to the landlord for unrighteousness that he increased his income: in any commercial bargain it would have seemed quite in order. On this point Colonel Pedder sets forth some curious facts. One is that the tenants recouped themselves by |