fell from her hands into the vigorous grasp of Mr. Gladstone,
Lord Beaconsfield, and Lord Salisbury. Perhaps, absorbed as she was in
routine, and difficult as she found it to distinguish at all clearly
between the trivial and the essential, she was only dimly aware of what
was happening. Yet, at the end of her reign, the Crown was weaker than
at any other time in English history. Paradoxically enough, Victoria
received the highest eulogiums for assenting to a political evolution,
which, had she completely realised its import, would have filled her
with supreme displeasure.

Nevertheless it must not be supposed that she was a second George III.
Her desire to impose her will, vehement as it was, and unlimited by any
principle, was yet checked by a certain shrewdness. She might oppose
her Ministers with extraordinary violence, she might remain utterly
impervious to arguments and supplications; the pertinacity of her
resolution might seem to be unconquerable; but, at the very last moment
of all, her obstinacy would give way. Her innate respect and capacity
for business, and perhaps, too, the memory of Albert's scrupulous
avoidance of extreme courses, prevented her from ever entering an
impasse. By instinct she understood when the facts were too much for
her, and to them she invariably yielded. After all, what else could she
do?

But if, in all these ways, the Queen and her epoch were profoundly
separated, the points of contact between them also were not few.
Victoria understood very well the meaning and the attractions of power
and property, and in such learning the English nation, too, had grown
to be more and more proficient. During the last fifteen years of the
reign--for the short Liberal Administration of 1892 was a mere interlude
imperialism was the dominant creed of the country. It was Victoria's
as well. In this direction, if in no other, she had allowed her mind to
develop. Under Disraeli's tutelage the British Dominions over the seas
had come to mean much more to her than ever before, and, in particular,
she had grown enamoured of the East. The thought of India fascinated
her; she set to, and learnt a little Hindustani; she engaged some Indian
servants, who became her inseparable attendants, and one of whom, Munshi
Abdul Karim, eventually almost succeeded to the position which had
once been John Brown's. At the same time, the imperialist temper of the
nation invested her office with a new significance exactly ha