It is the second Jubilee. Bonfires blaze upon the hills, making one
think of the watchman on Agamemnon's citadel. (It were more germane to
the matter to think of Queen Elizabeth and the Armada.) Though wishing
the uproar happily over, I can see the good in it as well as another man.
English monarchy, as we know it, is a triumph of English common sense.
Grant that men cannot do without an overlord; how to make that
over-lordship consist with the largest practical measure of national and
individual liberty? We, at all events, have for a time solved the
question. For a time only, of course; but consider the history of
Europe, and our jubilation is perhaps justified.
For sixty years has the British Republic held on its way under one
President. It is wide of the mark to object that other Republics, which
change their President more frequently, support the semblance of over-
lordship at considerably less cost to the people. Britons are minded for
the present that the Head of their State shall be called King or Queen;
the name is pleasant to them; it corresponds to a popular sentiment,
vaguely understood, but still operative, which is called loyalty. The
majority thinking thus, and the system being found to work more than
tolerably well, what purpose could be served by an attempt at _novas
res_? The nation is content to pay the price; it is the nation's affair.
Moreover, who can feel the least assurance that a change to one of the
common forms of Republicanism would be for the general advantage? Do we
find that countries which have made the experiment are so very much
better off than our own in point of stable, quiet government and of
national welfare? The theorist scoffs at forms which have survived their
meaning, at privilege which will bear no examination, at compromises
which sound ludicrous, at submissions which seem contemptible; but let
him put forward his practical scheme for making all men rational,
consistent, just. Englishmen, I imagine, are not endowed with these
qualities in any extraordinary degree. Their strength, politically
speaking, lies in a recognition of expediency, complemented by respect
for the established fact. One of the facts particularly clear to them is
the suitability to their minds, their tempers, their habits, of a system
of polity which has been established by the slow effort of generations
within this sea-girt realm. They have nothing to do with ideals: they
never trouble themselves to think about the Rights of Man. If you talk
to them (long enough) about the rights of the shopman, or the ploughman,
or the cat's-meat-man, they will lend ear, and, when the facts of any
such case have been examined, they will find a way of dealing with them.
This characteristic of theirs they call Common Sense. To them, all
things considered, it has been of vast service; one may even say that the
rest of the world has profited by it not a little. That Uncommon Sense
might now and then have stood them even in better stead is nothing to the
point. The Englishman deals with things as they are, and first and
foremost accepts his own being.
This Jubilee declares a legitimate triumph of the average man. Look back
for threescore years, and who shall affect to doubt that the time has
been marked by many improvements in the material life of the English
people? Often have they been at loggerheads among themselves, but they
have never flown at each other's throats, and from every grave dispute
has resulted some substantial gain. They are a cleaner people and a more
sober; in every class there is a diminution of brutality; education--stand
for what it may--has notably extended; certain forms of tyranny have been
abolished; certain forms of suffering, due to heedlessness or ignorance,
have been abated. True, these are mere details; whether they indicate a
solid advance in civilization cannot yet be determined. But assuredly
the average Briton has cause to jubilate; for the progressive features of
the epoch are such as he can understand and approve, whereas the doubt
which may be cast upon its ethical complexion is for him either
non-existent or unintelligible. So let cressets flare into the night
from all the hills! It is no purchased exultation, no servile flattery.
The People acclaims itself, yet not without genuine gratitude and
affection towards the Representative of its glory and its power. The
Constitutional Compact has been well preserved. Review the record of
kingdoms, and say how often it has come to pass that sovereign and people
rejoiced together over bloodless victories.