Reference was made in the last chapter to the celebration of the Queen’s Jubilee in 1887. It was kept with all kinds of appropriate festivals in every part of the British Empire. But the centre and kernel of the whole celebration was the beautiful and touching national ceremony in Westminster Abbey on June 21st. On the same spot where as a young girl the Queen had knelt and had sworn fidelity to the constitution of her kingdom, and to govern according to law, justice, and mercy, the aged Queen again appeared, followed by a troop of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, to return thanks to the Almighty for the blessings of her reign and the augmenting power, prosperity, and numbers of her people. In 1837 her people had looked to her with the enthusiasm of hope; in 1887 they looked upon her with the enthusiasm of gratitude, with the memory of fifty wonderful years behind them, griefs and joys in common, common pride in the greatness and glories of England, common shame for her shortcomings; but in spite of these a common faith that earth’s best hopes rest with England, and that her growing greatness promotes the happiness and well-being of mankind. In this national festival the Queen was felt to be the emblem of national unity, the one political power in the nation that is dissociated from party, with its petty squabbles and ignoble sacrifices. While statesmen too often stand merely for their party, and may be willing to sacrifice the true and obvious interests of the whole nation to gain a party majority, the Queen is more and more felt to stand for the nation that is above and beyond all party. That was the real meaning of the Jubilee, compared to which personal congratulations to a lady who had filled an important position with credit for fifty years held only a very secondary place.