The English Utilitarians, Volume 2 (of 3): James Mill
John Stuart Mill · en
an odd coincidence, he would tax rents like Mill, though upon
opposite grounds. He holds that the interest of the landowners is not
opposed to, but identical with, the interest of all classes.
Politically, as well as economically, they should be supreme. They
are, 'naturally and properly, the lords of the ascendant,' and, as he
oddly complains in the year of the Reform Bill, not 'sufficiently
represented in parliament.'[418] A 'splendid aristocracy' is, he
thinks, a necessary part of the social edifice;[419] the law of
primogeniture is necessary to support them; and the division of land
will cause the decay of France. The aristocracy are wanted to keep up
a high standard of civilisation and promote philosophy, science, and
art.[420] The British aristocracy in the reign of George IV. scarcely
realised this ideal, and would hardly have perceived that to place all
the taxes upon their shoulders would be to give them a blessing in
disguise. According to Chalmers, however, an established church
represents an essential part of the upper classes, and is required to
promote a high standard of life among the poor.[421] In connection
with this, he writes a really forcible chapter criticising the
economical distinction of productive and unproductive labour, and
shows at least that the direct creation of material wealth is not a
sufficient criterion of the utility of a class.
Chalmers's arguments are of interest mainly from their bearing upon
his practical application of the Malthusian problem. His interest in
the problem of pauperism had been stimulated by his residence in
Glasgow, where from 1815 to 1823 he had been actively engaged in
parochial duties. In 1819 he had set up an organised system of
charity in a poor district, which both reduced the expenditure and
improved the condition of the poor. The experiment, though dropped
some years later, became famous, and in later years Chalmers
successfully started a similar plan in Edinburgh. It was this
experience which gave shape to his Malthusian theories. He was, that
is, a Malthusian in the sense of believing that the great problem was
essentially the problem of raising the self-respect and spirit of
independence of the poor. The great evil which confronted him in
Glasgow was the mischief connected with the growth of the factory
system. He saw, as he thought, the development of wealth leading to
the degradation of the labourer. The great social phenomenon was the
tendency to degeneration, the gradual dissolution of an organism, and
corruption destroying the vital forces. On the one hand, this
spectacle led him, as it led others, to look back fondly to the good
old times of homely food and primitive habits, to the peasantry as
represented in Burns's _Cotter's Saturday Night_ or Scott's _Heart of
Midlothian_, when the poor man was part of a social, political, and
ecclesiastical order, disciplined, trained, and self-respecting, not a
loose waif and stray in a chaotic welter of separate atoms. These were