of fashion, but the lack of other
and more important qualities. The hostility of the upper classes was
symptomatic of an antagonism more profound than one of manners or
even of tastes. The Prince, in a word, was un-English. What that word
precisely meant it was difficult to say; but the fact was patent to
every eye. Lord Palmerston, also, was not fashionable; the great
Whig aristocrats looked askance at him, and only tolerated him as an
unpleasant necessity thrust upon them by fate. But Lord Palmerston was
English through and through, there was something in him that expressed,
with extraordinary vigour, the fundamental qualities of the English
race. And he was the very antithesis of the Prince. By a curious chance
it so happened that this typical Englishman was brought into closer
contact than any other of his countrymen with the alien from over
the sea. It thus fell out that differences which, in more fortunate
circumstances, might have been smoothed away and obliterated, became
accentuated to the highest pitch. All the mysterious forces in Albert's
soul leapt out to do battle with his adversary, and, in the long and
violent conflict that followed, it almost seemed as if he was struggling
with England herself.

Palmerston's whole life had been spent in the government of the country.
At twenty-two he had been a Minister; at twenty-five he had been offered
the Chancellorship of the Exchequer, which, with that prudence which
formed so unexpected a part of his character, he had declined to accept.
His first spell of office had lasted uninterruptedly for twenty-one
years. When Lord Grey came into power he received the Foreign
Secretaryship, a post which he continued to occupy, with two intervals,
for another twenty-one years. Throughout this period his reputation
with the public had steadily grown, and when, in 1846, he became Foreign
Secretary for the third time, his position in the country was almost,
if not quite, on an equality with that of the Prime Minister, Lord John
Russell. He was a tall, big man of sixty-two, with a jaunty air, a large
face, dyed whiskers, and a long sardonic upper lip. His private life was
far from respectable, but he had greatly strengthened his position
in society by marrying, late in life, Lady Cowper, the sister of Lord
Melbourne, and one of the most influential of the Whig hostesses.
Powerful, experienced, and supremely self-confident, he naturally
paid very little attention to Albert. Why s