And still before their eyes discrownèd kings,
Desolate chiefs, and aged priests forlorn,
Flit by—confused—with all incongruous things,
Swooping in rise and fall on ponderous wings.”
No one, even with the most persistent cheerfulness of disposition, can say the political outlook is otherwise than stormy, or the social one otherwise than depressing. Half the country is in mourning for itself as well as for the Queen; so many loved ones have been lost on the field of battle that there is scarcely a home to which grief has not brought a cup of cruel bitterness during the past year. On the one side is a section of humanity overbalanced with excess of money and love of luxury; on the other an infinitely larger mass which is struggling night and day for the barest means of subsistence, and between these two is the strong wedge of a steady thinking, hardworking middle class, whose vote of preference, if asked for, would unquestionably be given to their poorer rather than their richer brethren; and over them all the Heavens flame “War!” War means taxation; War means loss of able-bodied men, and, therefore, loss of trade; War means to some people, who can barely afford to buy bread in time of peace, sheer famine. But, say the militarists, War means conquest; War means gold! So thought Rome in her palmy days;—even so, Rome fell!
“One might have thought,” wrote Sir George Mackenzie, in the sixteenth century, “that as the world grew older luxury would have been more shunned; for the more men multiplied, and the greater their dangers grew, they should have been the more easily induced to shun all expense, that they might the more successfully provide against those inconveniences. But yet it proved otherwise, and luxury was the last of all vices that prevailed over mankind; for after riches had been hoarded up, they rotted, as it were, into luxury; and after that tyranny and ambition had robbed many poor innocents, luxury, more cruel than they, was made use of by Providence to revenge their quarrel, and so triumphed over the conquerors. Thus, when Rome had by wit and courage subdued the world, it was drowned in that inundation of riches which these brought upon it.”
“Drowned in an inundation of riches!” A similar inundation threatens to engulf the higher ideals, the nobler morals of our English tradition. The ostentatious assertion of wealth was never more in evidence among us than it is to-day; an entrance into so-called “society” can, we know, be bought for cash, and even on such a solemn occasion as that which saw our great Queen’s body carried across the sea from her island home to London, and thence to Windsor, it was not the most love or loyalty which was rewarded by a full sight of the great historic pageant, but merely the most push and the greatest amount of gold. No one who witnessed it will be likely to forget the levity with which bargains were made and luncheons “planned” for the occasion, and sensitive ears will long remember the light jesting carried on in certain of the more “smart” resorts of London among the “high-class” revellers, when the solemn procession had passed by. Those who saw and heard will not fail to chronicle the taste and conduct of the “upper” mob on this supreme and historic occasion, for the edification of future students who may desire to know something of the manners and customs in vogue among the educated ladies and gentlemen at the beginning of the Twentieth Century. The slangy epithets heaped on the somewhat dull weather which prevented these élite from thoroughly “enjoying” the “general holiday,” might have stirred envy in the soul of a prizefighter,—and the utter vulgarity, coarseness and indifference displayed by persons whose names figure in newspaper paragraphs as “leaders” of society, seemed to call urgently for a visitation of the King’s displeasure.
“To Apes by the Dead Sea, this Universe is an Apery, a tragic humbug, which they put away from them by unmusical screeches, by the natural cares for lodging, for dinner, and such like,” only, unfortunately, it often chances that these Ape-persons are the very ones who, in the King’s presence, would be the first to bend the knee, and wear the most close and becoming masks of decorum and respectful homage, for there is no flattery so subtle or so difficult to deal with as that which affects straightforwardness and sincerity. His Majesty is known to despise compliments, therefore those who are anxious to ingratiate themselves in the Royal favour will be careful not to make them. But open adulation is a far less dangerous evil than the appearance of blunt and bluff honesty which covers the deepest motives of self-interest. And the men who practise this specious form of candid and fair dealing are those who are likely to work mischief to both society and government. The King’s position is one of far more difficulty than that of the late Queen; in her case a sense of chivalry and respect for noble and pure womanhood held many evil tongues silent, and fastened invisible fetters on the hands of evil-doers.
“She was,” says a leading journal, “a Constitutional Sovereign with limited powers of controlling politics in this country, but let it never be forgotten that she could bring the influence of a parent or relative to bear upon sovereigns whose personal power was enormous. We can see, negatively, what this influence was worth from the constant alarm which it excited in Bismarck, who resented it. It is not to be supposed that her Majesty’s successor can have at once either the same personal authority, or a similar claim to the deference of other sovereigns. Those things were the fruits of a long reign and unremitting labours through sixty years. Yet it remains the function of the Crown to mitigate the isolation of British politics and to remove the asperities which may arise out of small matters as well as big. We do not doubt that the King will work to that end, but statesmen also must remember that the removal of the Queen makes a difference to the position of the country, that there is less forbearance to be counted on, and that some mistakes may, therefore, be less easy to retrieve.”
Taking into consideration various splits, discontent, and restlessness in the Churches, brief attention may here be called to the unnecessary announcement made by Leo XIII to the effect that he was “unwilling to be represented at the funeral of a Protestant Queen,” and also to the equally gratuitous information given out in all the Roman Catholic Churches that “no Masses would be offered up for the soul of the Queen.” The Imperial English nation has not asked for “Masses” for its late Queen, nor did His Majesty the King and Emperor supplicate the Pope to represent himself at the world-famed obsequies. Hence Roman Catholic dignitaries had no cause whatever to make so loud and public a statement of their particular form of bigotry, or to emphasize the special width and height of their own little door into Heaven. Thanks be to God, Heaven is wide, and the bounty and beneficence of the Creator are infinite, and a pure and perfect soul will take its place among angelic and immortal spirits without the assistance of finite persons, who, according to the words of Christ, are “hypocrites,” who “shut up the Kingdom of Heaven.”