AN attempt has been made in the following pages to give a general view of the principal events in the reign of Queen Victoria and the changes resulting from the development of the means of travel and communication, the accumulation of wealth, the acquirement of political power by the people, and the spread of education among them. In making this attempt the author had to choose between compiling a dry chronicle, and placing before his readers the salient points in a period of rapid and successful progress. He chose the latter; but, in order to carry his purpose into effect within the limits assigned to him, he had to pass in silence over the names of many persons distinguished in politics, science, literature, art, and warfare. Those, or the descendants of them, whose achievements entitle them to an honoured place in the annals of their age, will understand that it was possible only to find room for mention of a few of the illustrious band who have contributed to the great work of empire and civilisation.

Especially in regard to literature, it may be felt that the reference to that department is out of all proportion to its importance. But the subject is so vast that it is almost hopeless to deal with, to any good purpose, in two or three pages. Attention has, however, been drawn in the concluding chapter to the effects of universal compulsory education on our national prosperity, moral character, and intellectual life. In respect of its action on the material well-being of the population, it is not unreasonable to attribute to its influence part of the marked decrease in pauperism in the last quarter of a century, even if the more equable diffusion of wealth be reckoned the principal factor in that process. If the results quoted cannot be proved to be the direct outcome of universal education, at all events they synchronise in a remarkable manner with the period of its existence.

Turning next to the literary habits of the people, it is not possible to doubt the important bearing which recreative reading has upon the national character. We are not, and probably never shall be, a nation of students, but we have become within the limits of the present reign a nation of readers. The press of the country is free—free in a sense that has never been tolerated in any other State. Public men and measures are submitted to searching criticism in a degree that would be wholly intolerable but for the general high tone maintained in British journalism. There are few things more remarkable in our civilisation than the abundance of excellent writing supplied to the daily and weekly press, and the sound morality which pervades it.

Next to the newspaper press, and hardly inferior to it in influence, is the mass of fiction produced year after year in ever-increasing volume. To ascertain how vastly its attractions prevail over those of historical, poetic, philosophic, or scientific works, it is only necessary to consult the returns of any free library. For good or for ill, the thoughts of countless readers, old and young, are continually engaged on the fictitious fortunes, dilemmas, and vicissitudes of imaginary individuals. On the whole, the influence of this literature is harmless and in some degree salutary, though it is true that within recent years a school of novelists has arisen, containing some skilful and attractive writers, who rely on winning popularity by going as near as they dare to the worst kind of realism pursued by certain French authors. It will do incalculable damage, not only to English literature, but to the English character, if the public, in whose hands is the verdict, encourage perseverance in this line. Hitherto, in the present century, fiction has been maintained in Great Britain at a higher level than it has ever touched before. The most popular writers of romance—Scott, Marryat, Thackeray, Dickens (not to mention any living authors)—dealt, indeed, with the foibles, crimes, and misfortunes of men and women, but they never failed to keep a high ideal before their readers. Their favourite characters were depicted as at war with evil: not always successful, not without frailty, and even folly; but no religion ever preached a purer morality than did these masters in the story-teller’s craft. It will be deplorable if people learn to employ their leisure, not in narratives of heroism, self-denial, and innocent love, but in studies of degradation and despair, and restless stirring of sexual problems.

Some of the most striking and valuable discoveries in physical science receive mention in the course of this narrative, as being among the more memorable features of the reign, but it has been impossible even to allude to countless others, almost as important to the welfare and progress of humanity. Less obvious to the general public, but not less remarkable, has been the application of the exact and comparative method to intellectual research, so that, although students still differ, and are likely to continue to the end of time to differ on some of the conclusions at which they arrive, for the first time in the world’s history they are of one mind about the right system of enquiry.

There are still to be witnessed in the Queen’s realm those violent contrasts between vast wealth and grinding poverty, which must ever arise in every civilised State in periods of great commercial and productive activity. They are a standing perplexity and distress to philanthropists; but one of the brightest features in the reign of Queen Victoria, of infinitely deeper significance than the accumulation of riches by the nation and by individuals, is the degree to which that wealth has penetrated the middle and industrial classes.

The effect of the application of steam to machinery, which coincided so nearly with the beginning of the present reign, was, indeed, injurious to certain limited industries, but the general result has been a continuous rise in the wages paid to artisans. The first few years of the factory system, coupled with a lamentable ignorance of, and indifference to, sanitary principles, brought a terrible increase of disease, squalor, and suffering in their train. This soon attracted the attention of philanthropists, among whom the leading place must be assigned to the Earl of Shaftesbury; and year by year the two rival political parties have vied with each other in applying remedial and protective legislation to the evils of overcrowding, insanitary dwellings, and other dangers besetting extraordinary industrial activity. There are slums still, but they must be hunted for, instead of forcing themselves on attention as was the case not long ago in almost every large town. Artisans’ dwellings, far exceeding in comfort, in solidity, and in sanitation anything that our forefathers may have dreamt of, are now the rule and not the exception.

Mere quotation of figures will not make clear the increased share of the national wealth which now finds its way into the pockets of the working classes, because the unprecedented cheapness of all the necessaries and many of the luxuries of life (intoxicants alone excepted) has raised the buying power of wages in a degree which cannot be estimated. Mr. W. H. Mallock, a well-known writer on this subject, has recently devoted some close enquiry to it, and has brought out some remarkable results. He quotes the calculation of statisticians upon the income of the nation in 1851, when it was estimated at £600,000,000, and in 1881, when it was reckoned at £1,200,000,000, having doubled itself in thirty years. He then deducts from these totals the amounts assessed to income-tax, arriving by this process at the total paid in wages (or the total of all incomes under £150), which was £340,000,000 in 1851, and £660,000,000 in 1881. In those thirty years the wage-earning class had increased in number from 26,000,000 to 30,000,000, or 16 per cent., while the wages paid to them had increased by nearly 100 per cent. In fact the income of the working classes in 1881 was about equal to that of the whole nation in 1851, with largely increased purchasing power, owing to reduction in prices. But this does not exhaust the evidence of the diffusion of wealth which has been going on, a process which is apt to be overlooked in the attention attracted to the building up of a few colossal fortunes. Mr. Mallock shows, by taking the increase in the number of incomes between £150 and £1,000 a year, how greatly the middle classes have increased in numbers. Persons assessed for taxation on incomes between these limits have increased in number during the period under consideration from 300,000 to 990,000, that is, in a ratio of nearly 250 per cent. It is hardly possible to over-estimate the importance of these figures in their bearing on the prospects of the stability of the present social system in Great Britain. Had this enormous increase in wealth been accumulated in a few hands, it must have given a great impetus to the revolutionary agencies always present under settled governments. But its dispersal among a multitude of owners broadens the foundations of authority, and at the same time acts as a powerful check upon legislation for a limited class.

It must be admitted that, side by side with the advance in general welfare, certain less desirable incidents of our civilisation claim attention. One of these is the recurrence of disputes on a large scale between employers and workmen, resulting in industrial strikes far exceeding in extent and intensity anything of the sort that could be organised before the legislature relaxed the laws against conspiracy and combination. Although labour disputes are conducted now with a general absence of the violence which almost invariably accompanied them in earlier days, they are not without deplorable results in the losses entailed on the working classes during their continuance, and in the damaging effect they sometimes bring upon the industries affected. But the principle of arbitration is gradually winning its way, and the fact that on several recent occasions recourse to this reasonable method has proved successful in averting a prolonged struggle, encourages the hope that employers and employed are beginning to recognise their common advantage in conciliation.

It is less easy to prescribe a remedy for the admitted evil of the excessive aggregation of the people in centres of industry, and the corresponding depletion of the rural districts. This tendency has been at work ever since Virgil wrote his—

and perhaps from long before. Increased facilities of locomotion, and the stimulus lent by education to intellectual energy, have intensified the movement; but at all events the worst effects of it on the national physique are being mitigated by the attention directed to sanitary engineering.

One of the results of general education has been to give greater breadth and accuracy to the popular aspirations for the Empire. Five and twenty years ago the British Colonies were regarded, even by experienced statesmen, with a degree of indifference, which it is difficult for the present generation to realize. It seemed to be assumed that, sooner or later, each of them would throw off the bond attaching it to the Mother country, and that nothing was to be gained by maintaining a union of which the value could not be shown in a profit and loss account. A complete change has come over public opinion in this respect. Imperial federation is in the air; the precise means by which it is to be secured have not been formulated, but the sentiment is as strong in the general mind of the natives of these islands as it seems to be in that of the Queen’s subjects in India, in Canada, and in Australasia. Although the presence of a large proportion of the Dutch race in our South African Colonies renders the feeling in that land less pronounced, it is not unreasonable to hope that even there just laws, wise administration, and the prestige of a mighty empire will prevail to dispel suspicion and establish a lasting harmony.

The example of good government, which has been set forth at home during the present reign, is one in which every Briton may take a just pride. Party politics are as vehement as ever, and sometimes descend into acrimony; but the last traces of corruption have disappeared from public life, and all the acts of administration are open to the most searching scrutiny. Not less remarkable is the change which has come over the habits of all classes in regard to alcoholic indulgence, which, throughout the last century and a considerable portion of the present one, remained as a reproach on our social life. Formerly, though intemperance was looked on as undesirable, it was not thought discreditable, or, at least, not incompatible with the discharge of the most important offices. But at the present time indulgence in drink is regarded as a bar to all except ordinary manual labour, and even in that department the working man is steadily emancipating himself from the thraldom which, at no distant date, lay so heavily upon all classes.

These, and many others such as these, are some of the features which distinguish the longest reign in our annals. So important are they, regarded as affecting the happiness of millions of human beings, that the remarkable length of the reign sinks into secondary moment compared with its character. It has been an age of material progress more swift and political change more permanent than any which preceded it, and there have not been wanting those who viewed each successive step in the movement with apprehension, predicting disaster to cherished institutions—to the monarchy itself. The result, so far, has been to falsify those predictions. The British monarchy reposes at present on surer foundations than military prowess or legislative sagacity can supply; it rests on the genuine affection of the people. Power has been committed to them during these sixty years in no illiberal measure; in a very practical sense they are masters, under the Almighty, of the destiny of the empire, for they can, by their votes, put those Ministers in power who shall do their pleasure. How comes it that this power has been exercised with a moderation very different from that which there is plenty of historical precedent for anticipating? There are doubtless many contributory causes—an abundant employment owing to the expansion of industry, cheap food, the diffusion of wealth, the readiness of the British people to avail themselves of new lands, the hold which religious principles keep upon them, and the instinctive conservatism which affects, often unconsciously to themselves, all but those who adopt extreme views in politics. All these, and many more, must be taken into account in considering what has taken place; but there is one which a watchful observer will reckon more direct in its effect than any of them—namely, the personal character of the Monarch. Vigilant as she is known to have been in attention to public affairs, conscientious as she has shown herself in complying with the limitations of our Constitution, Queen Victoria has set before her people a perfect Court and a model home. Not by design has this been done, not by laborious compliance with irksome rules or straining for public approval, but by the action of a true nature, guided by a vigorous intellect and resolute will.

What might have been the result of the enormous development of popular power if the Monarch had been one whose character had attracted no affection or respect, it is idle to speculate. It is enough that every true Briton is able to say, with heartfelt gratitude: “Thank Heaven that throughout this critical period of change we have remained the subjects of Victoria the Great and Good!”