30 DECEMBER 1899, Page 7

THE DUKE OF WESTMINSTER. T HE late Duke of Westminster's life

made as near an approach as in this imperfect world any of us are likely, or indeed need be very anxious, to see, towards the realisation of an ideal. If the average Peer, professional man, merchant, employer, tradesman, and artisan pos- sessed, in his respective sphere, a conception of his responsibilities to those depending on him, his neighbours, his fellow-countrymen, and the world at large, at all corre- sponding to that which the Duke of Westminster pos- sessed in his sphere, and acted up to it with half the steady cheerfulness which characterised the man the nation has just lost, there would soon be little need to brood with sadness on the fact that the Christian era, though so old, is still so lamentably un-Christian. The world, on our hypothesis, would be quite as different from what it is now, as what it is now is different from the later Roman Empire. No one who gives the subject five minutes' reflection can doubt this. The mere change in the social amenity of the place would be extraordinary, if a courtesy like that which was invariable with the Duke of West- minster became at all general. Resembling in some im- portant respects Aristotle's " great-souled " man—with his high spirit, his charm of appearance and bearing, his natural adherence to the traditions of the "sustained splendour of a stately life "—the Duke presented the world with the classical type humanised and Christianised. And so his courtesy was not merely a gracious manner, but the fitting and inevitable expression of a deep inward considerateness for the feelings of others of all degrees. That was much, and by no means, as in England we are naturally apt to suppose, was it the least important of his virtues. For by this constant smoothing of the paths to and about himself he unquestionably diminished the wear and tear, and so heightened the efficiency, of those engaged in the working of the innumerable religious and philanthropic undertakings to which he gave the splendid advantage of the platform of Grosvenor House.

And yet he might have done all this without incurring much trouble. He might have lent his town palace, and even lent his presence, for the furtherance of benevolent enterprises, and given handsome sums in aid of them, and yet led a life of little more than refined self-indulgence. But it was not so that he read his duty. Entrusted with vast wealth and high station, he knew that he was called not only to give, as he did give, with royal liberality, not only to facilitate, as hardly any great nobleman has ever done before, the good work of others, but to give up his time and his strength and his thought, first, to judging of the real claims of each cause which appealed to him for aid, and, next, to a vigorous and effective leadership in every one of them as to which he was satisfied that it truly merited his support. That was where the element of sacrifice was, in his case, chiefly involved. Not altogether, for there can be little doubt that if the Duke of Westminster had dispensed the pecuniary side of his philanthropy on a less splendid scale he would not have found it necessary to give up such a dearly prized jewel as Cliveden. But even if we ignore a surrender of that kind, and say that the Duke's gifts "cost him nothing," no one can be dull enough to say or think so of his intellectual and moral participation in the conduct of the countless undertakings into which he threw himself for the relief of suffering and the ameliora- tion of the condition of the souls, minds, and bodies of the less fortunate of his fellow-countrymen. For a man like him to work as he worked for such ends involves the regular surrender of opportunities of enjoyment in a fashion which, if a parallel to it were offered for acceptance by the ordinary citizen, would startle him very considerably. And, be it remembered, all the Duke's philanthropic labours were over and above the time and thought he regularly gave to the manage- ment of his vast estates in London and the country. It can hardly be necessary to point out that the worthy discharge by the Duke of his responsibilities as landlord entailed upon him a continuity of anxious thought little, if at all, less than that involved in the control of a con- siderable Government Department. He had three proper- ties of great importance in London, which may be described roughly as the Grosvenor Square, the Belgrave Square, and the Milbank Estates, as well as a great property in Cheshire, and in the management of them all he took an active part, and insisted upon the steady pursuit of a policy of remark- able liberality and enlightenment. He was, we believe, an excellent man of business, but his principles and practice of estate management proceeded upon the lines of a generosity which could not be reduced within any ordinary economic theories of business. They might indeed be truly regarded as in harmony with the dictates of a wide view of the interests of the institution of private property in land in a democratic age, but as a matter of fact we have no doubt that they were inspired by the steady sense of Christian and patriotic duty. As is pointed out in an interesting communication from an evidently well-informed correspondent in Monday's Times, the management of the Grosvenor estates was at the Duke's "express wish con- ducted with great generosity to all kinds of charitable and religious institutions. Freehold sites and money for the er ction of buildings, for the pay of curates, and for other helpful work were freely granted, and [devoted son of the Church as the Duke undoubtedly was] at no time was any distinction drawn between Churchmen and Dissenters. Any measures for the promotion of the public health com- manded the Duke's warm sympathy. He was one of the most generous donors to the Jenner Institute on the Chelsea Embankment. A great scheme of improvements —the cost of which the late Duke never calculated—has for many years been in progress on parts of the estate as leases fell in, and it ought to be known to his credit that while these improvements would, if carried out under the compulsory powers of the London County Council, have saddled the ratepayers with a charge of many millions sterling, they have been voluntarily completed by the Duke, to the permanent benefit of the public, without the slightest expense to any one but himself." Poor and crowded districts in the West End have been refreshed and cheered for all time by the Duke's gift of open spaces. And in various ways, according to the local needs, the great Cheshire property has been managed on lines of equal liberality.

It is hardly possible to exaggerate the services which such a life has rendered to the poor, and to England as a whole. The width of the range of its relieving, healing, solidifying, and stimulating influence can never be fully known. Almost certainly such a life, with its impressive weight of example, could not have been lived if it had not been for the immense concentration of the advantages of wealth and station on an individual which is still possible under our English system of landed property. And on the whole we are strongly inclined to think that anything approaching to an equal distribution of the possessions of the late Duke's father among his family, much fairer as it might have seemed, would have failed to conduce to so great a sum total of public service, material and moral, as that rendered by the remarkable man who has just passed away. Several very considerable fortunes enjoyed by persons accustomed to luxury, but not dominated by the special sense of responsibility attaching to the headship of a great house, are scarcely likely to prompt a standard of liberality, corresponding, in its measure, to that to which a man may well feel called, on whom there descends, with such a headship, absolutely colossal wealth. The margins practically available in the case of the owners of the divided inheritance would not, added together, be likely to make up that possessed by the single inheritor. And the stimulating sense of prominence would, in their cases, not operate at all. No doubt the possible dangers of the concentration of great properties are very real, and roust be weighed against its advantages. But the latter have received a splendid illustration in the life of the late Duke of Westminster. He found himself, at forty- four, in a position of vast opportunity and correspond- ing difficulty. He has died at seventy-four, having conquered the difficulty and realised the opportunity in a fashion not merely quantitatively, but qualitatively great. And the example he has thus left is of no less value than his own innumerable labours and benefac- tions. In truth, the Duke of Westminster seems to have regarded himself not so much as a private millionaire as the head of a great public trust or institution ; conferring a magnificent position, no doubt, upon the presiding individual, but also many serious duties and responsibilities. As long as the great English nobles are willing to follow his example as far as they can, mh.y need not fear that the special status in the community which they naturally value so highly, will he taken from them. Men like the Duke of Westminster mill always be tolerable and always tolerated.