Commons was
not composed of noblesse. But,
on the Continent, this was equivalent to saying, that
the Commons were
roturiers, bourgeois—in
fact, mechanic persons, of obscure families, occupied
in the lowest employments of life. Accordingly
Salmasius wrote his whole work under the most serene
conviction that the English House of Commons was tantamount
to a Norwegian Storthing,
viz. a gathering from
the illiterate and labouring part of the nation.
This blunder was committed in perfect sincerity.
And there was no opening for light; because a continual
sanction was given to this error by the aristocratic
scorn which the cavaliers of ancient descent habitually
applied to the prevailing party of the Roundheads;
which may be seen to this hour in all the pasquinades
upon Cromwell, though really in his own neighbourhood
a “gentleman of worship.” But for
Salmasius it was a sufficient bar to any doubt arising,
that if the House of Commons were not nobles, then
were they not gentlemen—since to be a gentleman
and to be a
titled man or noble, on the Continent,
were convertible terms. He himself was a man
of titular rank, deriving his title from the territory
of Saumaise; and in this needy scholar, behold a nobleman
of France! Milton, on the other hand, quite incapable
of suspecting that Salmasius conceived himself to
stand on a higher level than an English senator of
the Commons, and never having his attention drawn to
the chasm which universally divides foreign from English
nobility, naturally interpreted all the invectives
of Salmasius against the Lower House as directed against
their principles and their conduct. Thus arose
an error, which its very enormity has hitherto screened
from observation.
What, then, is this chasm dividing our nobility
from that upon the Continent? Latterly that point
has begun to force itself upon the attention of the
English themselves, as travellers by wholesale on the
Continent. The sagacious observers amongst them
could not avoid to remark, that not unfrequently families
were classed by scores amongst the nobility, who,
in England, would not have been held to rank with the
gentry. Next, it must have struck them that, merely
by their numbers, these continental orders of nobility
could never have been designed for any thing higher
than so many orders of gentry. Finally, upon
discovering that there was no such word or idea as
that of gentry, expressing a secondary class distinct
from a nobility, it flashed upon them that our important
body of a landed gentry, bearing no titular
honours of any kind, was inexpressible by any French,
German, or Italian word; that upon the whole, and
allowing for incommunicable differences, this order
of gentry was represented on the Continent by the great
mass of the “basse noblesse;” that our
own great feudal nobility would be described on the
Continent as a “haute noblesse;” and that
amongst all these perplexities, it was inevitable