The presence of some sort of “aristocracy” in every human society of long continuance is a proof of the need of something such, and at the same time the chief cause of its decay. One might say, somewhat paradoxically, that an aristocracy is at its purest and best where it has no right to exist; and at its worst where it possesses the greatest “rights.” Those who belong to these higher classes live now, for the most part, in the vain delusion (to which they are systematically brought up, and by which they are debarred from any better conception) that they owe to humanity nothing further than their mere existence, or that there is in general no other society for them but the “upper ten thousand,” as they are called in England. They deem it quite sufficient if they in a certain measure stand as representatives of “the beautiful” in the life of humanity, somewhat in the sense of the tasteless expression, “The rose that doth itself adorn, adorneth, too, the garden,” or in accordance with the better expression, not always rightly applied, that common natures count for what they do, noble natures for what they are. Taken in the right sense, this last is true; for from nobly living, nobly doing necessarily follows of itself, while it is but hypocrisy without it. One of the surest marks of men with noble natures is that the unfortunate are dearer to them than the fortunate. Where this is not so there is no genuine aristocratic nature of God’s grace, but only an ordinary man, however showy his station in life. A certain haughty inaccessibility is very pleasant to the proud, and passes with them for noble. With God, however, this is not the case, and the man to whom he is merciful he transfers to conditions of life where that must be given up. For no one has any feeling for such distant demi-gods who do not share in the common human lot. They purchase their “exceptional position” much too dearly, since by it they are shut out from knowing what real love is. Then, too, it is strange that the most useless of these birds-of-paradise of human society (and proud, too, of their uselessness) very often deport themselves as zealous followers of Christianity, while their whole mode of existence and their whole conception of the world stand in contradiction with the most elementary Christian principles. It will therefore remain on the whole as Cromwell said, “The cause of Christ goes hand in hand with the cause of the people.” The spirit of nobility in the ordinary sense goes no further than a curious hearing of the gospel, or than the attempt to use the gospel for quite other ends than it was meant.