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.