is house, lay out its grounds
magnificently, and richly supply his table, and that of his household
and retinue. And thus, without any abuse of right, we should find
established all the phenomena of poverty and riches, which (it is
supposed necessarily) accompany modern civilization. In one part of the
district, we should have unhealthy land, miserable dwellings, and
half-starved poor; in another, a well-ordered estate, well-fed servants,
and refined conditions of highly educated and luxurious life.

145. I have put the two cases in simplicity, and to some extremity. But
though in more complex and qualified operation, all the relations of
society are but the expansion of these two typical sequences of conduct
and result. I do not say, observe, that the first procedure is entirely
recommendable; or even entirely right; still less, that the second is
wholly wrong. Servants, and artists, and splendour of habitation and
retinue, have all their use, propriety, and office. But I am determined
that the reader shall understand clearly what they cost; and see that
the condition of having them is the subjection to us of a certain number
of imprudent or unfortunate persons (or, it may be, more fortunate than
their masters), over whose destinies we exercise a boundless control.
"Riches" mean eternally and essentially this; and God send at last a
time when those words of our best-reputed economist shall be true, and
we _shall_ indeed "all know what it is to be rich;"[85] that it is to
be slave-master over farthest earth, and over all ways and thoughts of
men. Every operative you employ is your true servant: distant or near,
subject to your immediate orders, or ministering to your
widely-communicated caprice,--for the pay he stipulates, or the price he
tempts,--all are alike under this great dominion of the gold. The
milliner who makes the dress is as much a servant (more so, in that she
uses more intelligence in the service) as the maid who puts it on; the
carpenter who smooths the door, as the footman who opens it; the
tradesmen who supply the table, as the labourers and sailors who supply
the tradesmen. Why speak of these lower services? Painters and singers
(whether of note or rhyme,) jesters and storytellers, moralists,
historians, priests,--so far as these, in any degree, paint, or sing, or
tell their tale, or charm their charm, or "perform" their rite, _for
pay_,--in so far, they are all slaves; abject utterly, if the service b