acts that a constitutional Sovereign can impress her personality on
the affections of her people. Of the reign of Queen Victoria it may be
truly said that very few in English history have been so blameless as
this, which was the longest of all. Her Court was a model of quiet
dignity and decorum, singularly free from all the atmosphere of
intrigue and from all suspicion of injudicious or unworthy
favouritism. She managed it as she managed her family, with a happy
mixture of tact and affection; and though she gave her confidence to
many she gave it to such persons and in such a way that it seemed
never to be abused. No domestic life could in all its relations have
been more perfect, and her love of children amounted to a passion.
Among the great female rulers it would be difficult to find one less
like Queen Victoria than the Empress Catherine of Russia, but they had
this common trait of an intense love of children and a great power of
winning their affection. There is a charming letter of Catherine to
Grimm, describing her life among her grandchildren, which might almost
have been written by the English Queen. Her vast family, spread
through many countries, was her abiding interest and delight, and
although she had to pay in full measure the natural penalty of many
bereavements, she at least never knew the dreary loneliness that
clouded the last days of her great predecessor, Elizabeth.
In the early years of her reign she fully filled her place as the
leader of English society. In the plays she patronised, in the art
she preferred, in the restrictions of her Drawing Rooms, in the
fashions she countenanced, in the intimacies she selected or
encouraged, her influence was always healthy and pure, and for some
years it powerfully affected the tone of English society.
Unfortunately, after the great calamity of her widowhood the nerves of
the Queen seem to have been shaken, and though she never intermitted
her political duties and spent daily many hours over her
correspondence, she allowed her social duties to fall too much and too
long into abeyance. She still, it is true, occasionally appeared in
public ceremonies. She laid the first stones of several hospitals and
infirmaries. She presided over the inauguration of several great
industrial enterprises. She sometimes opened Parliament in person, and
was sometimes present at military and naval reviews. But she scarcely
ever appeared in London, except for a few days. She never appeared in
a London theatre. She shrank from great crowds and large social
gatherings, and buried herself too much in her Highland home. This is
one of the few real reproaches that history is likely to bring against
her. Her influence on English society was never wholly lost, and it
was always an influence for good, but for many years it was exerted
less frequently and less powerfully than it should have been, and the
tone of large sections of society lost something by her retirement.
It may be doubted, however, whether this long retirement really
injured her in the minds of her people. Her rare occasional
appearances had a greater weight, and the depth of feeling exhibited
by her long widowhood became a new title to respect. The transparent
simplicity and unselfishness of her character were now generally
appreciated, and her own books contributed greatly to make her people
understand her. It is in general far from a wise thing for royal
personages to descend into the arena of literature unless they possess
some special aptitude for it. They expose themselves to a kind of
criticism wholly different from that which follows them in their
public lives--a criticism more minute and often more deliberately
malevolent than that to which an ordinary writer is subject. The Queen
wrote pure and excellent English and she had a good literary taste,
but she certainly could never have become a great writer; and the
complete frankness and unreserve of her Journals, as well as their
curious homeliness of thought and feeling, were not viewed with favour
in some sections of the fashionable and of the literary world. There
were circles in which the word 'bourgeois,' and there were others in
which the word 'commonplace,' was often pronounced. Yet in this, as on
nearly all occasions when the Queen acted on her own impulse, she
acted wisely. Her books had at once an enormous circulation, and there
can be no doubt that they contributed very widely to her popularity.
Multitudes to whom she had before been little more than a name, now
realised that she was one with whom they had very much in common. Her
evident longing for sympathy produced an immediate response. Her deep
domestic affection, her constant interest in her servants, her high
spirits, her love of scenery, her love of animals, her power of taking
delight in little things, appeared vividly in her pages and came home
to the largest classes of her people.
In some respects the Queen was an eminently democratic Sovereign.
While maintaining the dignity of her position, rank and wealth were in
her eyes always subordinate to the great realities of life and to
true human affections. In no one was the touch of Nature that makes
the whole world kin more constantly visible. She was never more in her
place than in visiting some poor tenant on the morrow of a great
bereavement, or uttering words of comfort by the sick bed of some
humble dependant. Men of all ranks who came in contact with her were
struck with her thoughtful kindness, and her royal gift of an
excellent memory never showed itself more frequently than in the
manner in which she remembered and inquired after the fortunes and
happiness of obscure persons related to those with whom she spoke.
Her religious opinions were brought very little before the public.
Beyond a deep sense of Providential guidance and of the comforting
power of religion, little is to be gathered from her published
utterances; but she seemed equally at home in the Scotch Presbyterian
and the Anglican Episcopal Church, and her marked admiration for such
men as Dean Stanley and Norman Macleod, and for the preaching of
Principal Caird, gives some clue to the bias of her opinions. Her mind
was not speculative but eminently practical, and while she patronised
good works of the most various kinds, there is reason to believe that
those which most appealed to her personal feelings were those which
directly contributed to alleviate the sufferings, or promote the
material welfare, of the poor. She devoted the greater part of her
Jubilee present to institutions for providing nurses for the sick
poor, and this is said to have been one of the charities in which she
took the warmest and most constant interest.
She is said not to have had any sympathy with the movement for the
extension of political power to women, which became so conspicuous in
her reign; but her own success in filling for sixty-three years the
highest political position in the nation will always be quoted in its
support. Considering, indeed, how comparatively small has been the
number of reigning female Sovereigns, it is remarkable how many in
modern times have shown themselves pre-eminently capable. Isabella of
Spain, Catherine of Russia, Maria Theresa of Austria, and our own
Elizabeth, all rise far above the level of ordinary Sovereigns. Some
of these seem figures of a larger and stronger mould than Queen
Victoria, but they governed under very different constitutional
conditions, and, with one exception, there are serious blots on their
memory. There are few sadder facts in history than that the pure and
tender-hearted Spanish Queen should have been deeply tinged with the
persecuting fanaticism of her age and country; that she should have
consented to the establishment of the Inquisition in Castile, to the
expulsion of the Moors from her dominions, to the first law in Europe
establishing a practical censorship of the Press. The unscrupulous
ambition, the shameless favouritism, the gross personal vices of
Catherine, are as conspicuous as her high intelligence, her
indomitable will, her majestic commanding power. The reign of
Elizabeth is perhaps the most glorious in English history, but the
character of that great Queen is lamentably tarnished by waywardness
and caprice. Among purely constitutional Sovereigns Queen Anne holds a
respectable, though certainly not a brilliant, place, and it may be
added that much of the merit of the very constitutional though not
very glorious reign of George II. is due to the excellent sense and
judgment of Queen Caroline. In spite of the saying of Burke, the age
of chivalry is not wholly dead. The sex of Queen Victoria no doubt
gave an additional touch of warmth to the loyalty of her people, and
many of the qualities that made her most popular are intensely, if not
distinctively, feminine. They would not, however, have given her the
place she will always hold in English history, if they had not been
united with what men are accustomed to regard as more peculiarly
masculine--a clear, well-balanced mind, singularly free from
fanaticisms and exaggerations, excellently fitted to estimate rightly
the true proportion of things.
In the last years of her reign the political horizon greatly cleared.
Lord Beaconsfield, during his later Ministries, obtained not only her
fullest political confidence, but also won a warmer degree of personal
friendship than she had bestowed on any Minister since the death of
Lord Melbourne; and her relations with his successor, Lord Salisbury,
appear to have been perfectly harmonious. The decisive rejection by
the country of the Home Rule policy removed a great incubus from her
mind, and she was fully in harmony with the strong Imperialist
sentiments which now began to prevail in English thought, and
especially with the warmer feeling towards our distant colonies which
was one of its chief characteristics. Her own popularity also rapidly
grew. She had keenly felt and bitterly resented the reproaches which
had at one period been frequently brought against her for her neglect
of social and ceremonial duties during many years of her widowhood.
Her censors, she maintained, made no allowance for her loneliness, her
advancing years, her feeble health, the overwhelming and incessant
pressure of her more serious political duties. But her two Jubilees,
bringing her once more into close touch with her people, put an end to
these reproaches. The Queen found with pleasure and perhaps with
surprise how capable she still was of performing great public
functions, and the vast outburst of spontaneous loyalty and affection
of which she became the object gave her deep and unconcealed pleasure.
To those, however, who were closely in connection with her it was
touching to observe the gracious and unaffected modesty with which she
received the homage of her subjects. Flattery was one of the things
she disliked the most, and all who knew her best were struck with the
singularly modest view she always took of herself. But blending with
this modesty, and even with a shyness which she never wholly
conquered, was the craving of a deeply affectionate and womanly nature
for sympathy, and this craving was now abundantly gratified.
Still, with all this there was much that was melancholy in her later
days. She had survived nearly all the intimacies of her youth. Death
had made--especially in very recent times--many gaps in the circle of
those who were nearest to her, and several of her children and of her
children's husbands had preceded her to the tomb. Her sight had
greatly failed. She was bowed down by physical infirmity, and her last
year was saddened by a long, sanguinary, and inglorious war. Yet
almost to the very end she continued with unabated courage to fulfil
her daily task, and there was no sign that she had lost anything of
her quick sympathy and her admirable judgment and tact. Her life was a
most harmonious whole in which mind and character were happily
attuned,
Like perfect music set to noble words.
FOOTNOTES:
[51] _Queen Victoria_, by Sidney Lee, p. 349.
[52] Ollivier, _L'Empire Libéral_, vii. p. 455.
[53] Sir Theodore Martin was asked by the Queen to give her a _précis_
of a very long and unintelligible letter of Mr. Gladstone purporting to
explain the Irish Church Disestablishment Bill (_Queen Victoria as I
knew Her_, by Sir Theodore Martin).--ED.
OLD-AGE PENSIONS
There are many signs that the question of old-age pensions is destined
to assume a great prominence in England; although it is probable that
the large increase of national expenditure which is certain to follow
the unhappy war in South Africa may, for some time, postpone actual
legislation on the subject. The generation has passed away which
witnessed the enormous abuses of Poor Law relief that existed, under
the old English Poor Law, before 1834, and the rapid diminution of
pauperism that was effected by the sterner administration introduced
in that year.
The principles of poor-law relief which were then recognised by the
best minds in England have been somewhat forgotten. These principles
were that, while in England provision is made for the support of all
who are absolutely destitute, it is of the utmost importance that on
the whole the condition of the pauper should be a less eligible one
than that of an independent labourer; that nothing should be done that
could diminish habits of thrift, forethought, and steady industry
among the poor; nothing that could weaken their sense of the necessity
of providing for their latter days, or of their duty of supporting,
when they have the means, their aged parents and relations. In
accordance with these principles it was laid down that outdoor relief
should be either absolutely refused to the able-bodied or only
granted under most exceptional circumstances; that the workhouse test,
with its stringent, deterrent discipline, should be steadily
maintained; that relaxations and special favours granted out of public
funds should be limited, as far as possible, to cases of special
calamity which it was impossible for any prudence or foresight to have
averted.
It would certainly be a great exaggeration to say that these
principles have disappeared. Indeed, the robust, independent,
self-respecting character which it was the object of the Manchester
School to encourage is abundantly displayed in the gigantic Friendly
and other working-class Co-operative Societies which have so largely
increased in England during the last half-century. Two of these
Friendly Societies--the Manchester Unity and the Foresters--have each
of them more than seven hundred thousand members on their roll. At the
same time, it is equally certain that in many quarters a different,
and, in my opinion, very dangerous, spirit prevails. In England as
elsewhere there is an increased tendency to aggrandise the functions
of the State and to look to State aid or State control rather than
individual or co-operative effort as the remedy of every evil. Social
questions have assumed a greater prominence in politics; and, with the
lowering of the franchise, the vague State Socialism, which, in
different degrees, pervades most working-class politics, has given a
bias to both parties in the State. It has become prominent in every
election and has produced many rash pledges.
The close connection between taxation and representation, which was
once considered the cardinal principle of English Liberalism, has, in
a marked degree, diminished, both in Imperial and local taxation. It
used to be contended that those who chiefly paid should chiefly
regulate, and that taxation should be as much as possible the
voluntary grant of the taxpayers, restricted to their common purposes.
But in many quarters a different belief has grown up. It is held that
in the hands of a democracy taxation should be made the means of
redressing the inequalities of fortune, ability, or industry; the
preponderant class voting and spending money which another class are
obliged to pay. The income-tax is so arranged that a large majority of
the voters are exempt from its burden; a highly graduated system of
death duties is now nearly the most prominent of our Imperial taxes;
and the Local Government Act of 1894 has placed local taxation on the
most democratic basis. The latter has given the power of voting rates
to many who do not pay them; and, by abolishing the nominated, or
ex-officio, guardians, and the plural voting of the larger ratepayers,
it has almost destroyed the influence of property on local taxation.
At the same time the doctrine has arisen, and is now sedulously
propagated in England, that the State ought to undertake to provide at
the public expense for all old persons, or at least for all deserving
old persons, who have not succeeded in obtaining a sufficient
livelihood for themselves; that this provision should not be regarded
as an eleemosynary grant, but as a positive right; and that, in order
to free it from the taint of pauperism, and take away from the
recipient all reluctance to receive it, a new fund should be created,
entirely distinct from poor-law relief, and administered by some other
tribunal than the poor-law guardians.
The claim has been supported on another ground. The immense
improvement of the material condition of the English working classes
during the last half-century is beyond all question; but it is much
more evident among the young and the strong than among the old. The
intense competition of modern industry, stimulated to the highest
point by free trade, by the factory system, and by the vast
development of machinery, has expelled the old and feeble from some of
its most important fields; and the influence of trade-unions in
enforcing, in each trade which they can control, a uniform and minimum
wage, has obliged the employer to employ only the most efficient
labour.
The old man who could once easily obtain a little work at low wages
now finds it much more difficult; and the recent legislation
compelling the employer to compensate his workmen for all accidents
that take place in his employment, even when those accidents are in no
degree due to any negligence on his own part or on that of his
servants, has acted in the same direction. Such serious obligations
have been thrown on the employer in the more dangerous trades, that he
is obliged in self-defence to restrict himself to the workmen who are
least liable to accidents; and they are naturally those whose
strength, activity, and eyesight are at their best. Among the
recipients of poor-law relief the proportion of men over sixty-five is
enormously great; and some figures which, in 1893, were brought before
the Commission on the Aged Poor, made a great impression on the
country. It was stated that in a single year 29.3 of the whole
population over sixty-five were in receipt of poor-law relief in
England and Wales; and assuming that a third part of these old persons
belonged to the well-to-do, it was calculated that not much less than
three in seven must fall into the ranks of pauperism.
There has been much controversy about the accuracy of this statement;
and, even if it be admitted, a good deal has been said to attenuate
its force. In the poor-law system as it was reformed in 1834, it was a
first principle that the workhouse, with its painful and degrading
associations, was to be the chief form of poor-law relief, and that
outdoor relief should only be granted on exceptional occasions and on
stringent conditions. This provision has been gradually relaxed.
Outdoor relief, which, in the eyes of the poor, carries with it very
little of the discredit and dislike that gathers round the workhouse,
is now by far the larger part of poor-law relief; and in many
districts it is administered with great laxity.
It has been proved by the clearest evidence that the immense majority
of the aged and deserving poor who are in receipt of poor-law relief
only receive it in the form of outdoor relief, and very often only in
the form of medical relief, and that if they go to the workhouse it is
only when their peculiar circumstances make it desirable for them to
do so. Wherever a more stringent system of relief is imposed,
pauperism invariably and rapidly decreases; and Mr. Loch, the
Secretary of the Charity Organisation Society, has collected much
evidence to show that, on the whole, old-age pauperism is diminishing,
though it has not been diminishing at the same rate as pauperism under
the age of sixty. The administration of the workhouses has also
greatly improved; and the poor-law infirmaries are becoming hospitals
which are largely resorted to in time of sickness by many who might
easily avoid them. On the whole, old-age destitution is, and must be,
a grave question for philanthropists; but there has been great
exaggeration about its magnitude and its hardships.
The expediency of devising a new and better method of providing for
the destitute aged poor of deserving character has long been
smouldering obscurely in English politics; but it obtained a real
importance for the first time when a very strong Royal Commission,
under the presidency of Lord Aberdare, was appointed, at the beginning
of 1893, to inquire into the question. After long and careful inquiry,
and after hearing a great multitude of witnesses, this Commission
reported in the spring of 1895. The majority of the members, while
recommending various reforms in the administration of the poor-law,
reported decisively against any system of old-age pensions, either in
the form of endowment or assisted assurance, as likely to do more harm
than good; but a minority, which derived special importance from the
presence of Mr. Chamberlain, refused to accept this decision as final,
and urged that the question should be submitted to a smaller body of
experts. In the election which took place in 1895 the question
appeared frequently upon the platform, and many members on both sides
of politics pledged themselves on the subject.
The weight which is always attached to the speeches of Mr. Chamberlain
gave a great impulse to the movement. He never countenanced the idea
of universal old-age pensions, which was already advocated by many;
but he strongly maintained that special provision, apart from the
poor-law and in the shape of pensions, might, and ought to, be made
for the old and deserving poor; he expressed his belief that such a
measure 'would do more than anything else to secure the happiness of
the working classes'; and he suggested as the most feasible scheme
that 'whenever a man acquires for himself in a Friendly Society or
any other society a pension of 2_s._ 6_d._ a week the State should
come in and double that pension.' Mr. Chamberlain, however, did not
insist on this precise proposal; but he gave the question a great
prominence; and among politicians on both sides there was a manifest
tendency to make party capital out of it.
A purely non-party Committee, presided over by Lord Rothschild, and
consisting mainly of distinguished financial authorities connected
with the permanent Civil Service, and therefore removed from active
politics, was appointed in 1896, in accordance with the recommendation
of the Aberdare Commission, to inquire especially into the question of
old-age pensions; and it reported in a document of conspicuous
ability. It was unanimous in condemning as impracticable or dangerous
all the schemes for such pensions that were brought before it; and it
fully confirmed the views of the preceding Commission. The report, and
the evidence on which it is based, clearly show the ways in which
measures intended for the benefit of the working class may prove in
the highest degree injurious to them.