Читать книгу The Life and Times of Queen Victoria (Vol. 1-4) - Robert Thomas Wilson - Страница 15

Table of Contents

Visit of the Prince of Prussia to England—Christening of Prince Alfred at Windsor Castle—Second Visit to the Highlands in the Autumn of 1844—Louis Philippe in England—His Reception at Windsor—Interchange of Courtesies between English and French Officers—Opening of the New Royal Exchange by the Queen—Letters of her Majesty and Prince Albert on the Occasion—Scientific Progress: the Electric Telegraph, Photography, Lord Rosse’s Telescope, the Thames Tunnel, and Arctic Exploration—Tractarian Difficulties in the Church—Purchase of Osborne by the Queen—Visits of her Majesty and the Prince to Stowe and Strathfieldsaye—Opening of Parliament by the Queen (Feb. 4th, 1845)—Financial Statement of Sir Robert Peel—Reduction and Abolition of Duties—Acrimonious Debates on the Proposed Queen’s Colleges in Ireland, and the Increase of the Maynooth Grant—Retirement of Mr. Gladstone from the Ministry—Admission of Jews to Municipal Offices—Results of Sir Robert Peel’s Financial Policy—Economy in the Royal Household—Project for making Prince Albert King Consort—The Chief Command of the Army.

While the Queen and Prince Albert were contemplating, in the late summer of 1844, a second tour in Scotland, they received a visit at Windsor from one who afterwards became illustrious on the stage of European history, as the German Emperor. The Prince of Prussia, brother of the reigning King, arrived at the Castle on the 31st of August, and was described by the Queen as amiable, sensible, amusing, and frank. Her Majesty thought he would make a steadier and safer King than his brother, and it cannot be doubted but that his reign was actually more successful and more distinguished. The Prince was at that time forty-seven years of age. As a youth, he had taken part in the campaigns against France in 1813, 1814, and 1815, and was then holding the post of Governor of Pomerania. He was therefore, even in 1844, a man of some experience in affairs, and he showed no little penetration in discriminating between the adaptability of the British Constitution to the needs of the British people as those needs were then, and its fitness for Continental nations, where the surroundings are wholly different. His visit to England was short, but, before he left, he attended, in the Private Chapel at Windsor Castle, on the 6th of September, the christening of the infant Prince, to whom were given the names of Alfred Ernest Albert. The sponsors on this occasion were Prince George of Cambridge, represented by his father, the Duke of Cambridge; the Prince of Leiningen, represented by the Duke of Wellington; and H.R.H. the Duchess of Saxe Coburg and Gotha, represented by H.R.H. the Duchess of Kent. The scene in the chapel was very solemn, and the Queen records its effect on her in a few heartfelt words preserved in her Journal.

It had been the intention of her Majesty to visit Ireland in the autumn of 1844; but the excitement in that country, consequent on the Repeal agitation, the trial of O’Connell, and the subsequent release of the agitator, made it imprudent for the sovereign and her consort to trust themselves in the sister island. They accordingly fell back on another Scottish tour, the remembrance of the earlier one having induced in both a strong desire to repeat so agreeable an experience. The Royal party started on the 9th of September, and sailed from Woolwich in the yacht Victoria and Albert. On the 11th, they entered the Frith of Tay, and landed at Dundee. From this place they advanced in a north-westerly direction into the Highlands, where they took up their residence at Blair Castle, Blair Athole, the seat of Lord Glenlyon (afterwards the Duke of Athole), who placed his house and grounds at the disposal of her Majesty. The road thither is exceedingly picturesque, with high hills and deep woods, and part of it led through the Pass of Killiecrankie, the beauty of which drew forth warm praises from Prince Albert. All around the scenery is of the most magnificent description, and the wildness of the prospects, the purity of the air, and the softness of the sunshine, not only gave the deepest delight to the Royal visitors, but had a beneficial influence on their health. They got up early in the morning, and therefore had full enjoyment of the best part of the day. One morning, a lady, plainly dressed, issued from the gates of Blair Athole, and passed the Highland guard without being noticed. When it was discovered that this lady was the Queen, a party of Highlanders turned out as a bodyguard, but were told that their services were not required. Her Majesty then passed on to the lodge, where Lord and Lady Glenlyon were dwelling for the time. She was informed that his Lordship was not yet up, and the servant was much astonished to hear who the early visitor was. On her return the Queen lost her way, and was directed by some reapers which path she should take to reach Blair Castle. In the after-part of the same day her Majesty and the Prince went on an excursion with Lord Glenlyon. Writing to the Dowager Duchess of Coburg on the 22nd of September, Prince Albert says:—“We are all well, and live a somewhat primitive, yet romantic, mountain life, that acts as a tonic to the nerves, and gladdens the heart of a lover, like myself, of field-sports and of Nature.” And the Queen says in her Diary that, “independently of the beautiful scenery, there was a quiet, a retirement, a wildness, a liberty, and a solitude,” about their surroundings, which possessed an exquisite charm for both. The Royal party left Blair Castle on the 1st of October, and were again at Windsor on the 3rd.

Three days later the King of the French landed at Portsmouth. Many of the French newspapers were strongly opposed to his coming, on account of the Tahiti affair, in which it was considered by extreme politicians that France had been injured and outwitted by England. But Louis Philippe and M. Guizot determined that the visit should take place, as the most likely way of restoring the good relations of the two countries. At Portsmouth, the King was received by the naval authorities of the place, and, before landing, the Mayor and Corporation presented him with an address, in answer to which he said:—“I have not forgotten the many kindnesses I have received from your countrymen during my residence among you many years since. At that period, I was frequently pained at the existence of differences and feuds between our countries. I assure you, gentlemen, I shall endeavour at all times to prevent a repetition of those feelings and that conduct, believing, as I do most sincerely, that the happiness and prosperity of a nation depend quite as much on the peace of those nations by which it is surrounded as on quiet within its own dominions.” The Duke of Wellington went with Prince Albert to receive the King on his arrival, and accompanied him to Windsor Castle. Louis Philippe was much moved at his reception by the Queen, and his hand shook somewhat as he alighted from his carriage. He was the first French sovereign who had ever come on a visit to the monarch of Great Britain; so that the occasion was a very memorable one. It must in fairness be acknowledged that the King of the Barricades, as he used to be called, entertained a friendly feeling towards England, where he had spent some of his early days of exile, so that he was sincerely desirous of preserving peace between the two dominions. He delighted to visit all his old haunts in the neighbourhood of Twickenham and Claremont. His conversation was very sprightly, and he recalled the old revolutionary days when, being compelled to seek refuge in the Grisons, under the name of Chabot, he acted as teacher in a school, where he received twenty pence a day, and had to brush his own shoes.

Wherever he went, the reception of the French King was much more hearty than that of the Emperor of Russia a few months before, and he was enchanted with all he saw and heard. On the 9th of October he was invested by her Majesty with the Order of the Garter, and on the 12th received the Corporation of the City of London, who journeyed down to Windsor to pay their respects. The King left England on the 13th. His original intention was to return, as he had come, by way of Portsmouth; but, on his arrival at that harbour on the 12th, accompanied by the Queen and Prince Albert, the weather proved too rough for so long a passage, and Louis Philippe therefore travelled up to London, and on the following day crossed from Dover to Calais. The French Admiral and his officers, who were to have conveyed the King back to Tréport, were much vexed at being disappointed of that honour; and, as

RECEPTION OF LOUIS PHILIPPE AT WINDSOR CASTLE. (See p. 172.)

some kind of compensation, the Queen and Prince Albert breakfasted next morning on board the frigate which had brought Louis Philippe over. Her Majesty excited the highest enthusiasm of the French officers by proposing and drinking the King’s health. There had in fact been much interchange of courtesies between the French visitors and the English officers stationed at Portsmouth; but it may be questioned whether these mutual compliments did not sometimes a little transgress the limits of sincerity. The Earl of Malmesbury is probably not far wrong when he records in his Memoirs:—“The officers of the French fleet have met with a most enthusiastic reception at Portsmouth. The English officers gave them a ball and a dinner; healths were drunk, and speeches made, and an immense quantity of humbug exchanged; but the French like that, so I hope it will put them in good humour.” The worst of these receptions is, that, although they may be sincere up to a certain point, they have a tendency to run into extravagance, and may thus provoke a reaction at some future date.

Before the end of the same month the Queen was engaged in a domestic ceremony of great interest to the citizens of London, and to many others far beyond the limits of the capital. The old Royal Exchange, the successor to Sir Thomas Gresham’s original building, destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666, was consumed in a conflagration which broke out on the 10th of January, 1838. The new building—that which now stands—was erected from the designs of Mr. William Tite, and opened by her Majesty in person on the 28th of October, 1844. The procession left Buckingham Palace at eleven o’clock A.M., and passed through streets gaily decorated for the occasion. Her Majesty’s carriage was drawn by eight cream-coloured horses, and the chief occupant wore a tiara of diamonds and a white ermine mantle. On alighting at the Exchange, the Queen and Prince Albert, preceded by the Lord Mayor with his Sword of State, went over the building, and finally entered the Reading Room. Here, seated on a throne, her Majesty received the address which had been prepared by the City authorities, and which was read by the Recorder. Allusion was made in it to the fact that the first building had been opened by Queen Elizabeth, and a hope was expressed that the new edifice would endure for ages, a memorial and monument of the commercial grandeur, the prosperity, and the peaceful triumphs of Victoria’s reign.

After reading her reply, the Queen intimated to the Lord Mayor (Alderman Magnay) her intention to confer on him the dignity of a baronet. A sumptuous luncheon was afterwards served in the Underwriters’ Room, and the proceedings of the day closed by the Queen announcing, after silence had been enjoined by the heralds, that it was her will and pleasure that the building should be thenceforth called “The Royal Exchange.” Her Majesty was greatly pleased by her reception, and wrote next day to King Leopold:—“Nothing ever went off better, and the procession there, as well as the proceedings at the Royal Exchange, were splendid and royal in the extreme. It was a fine and gratifying sight to see the myriads of people assembled, more than at the Coronation even, and all in such good humour, and so loyal.” To the same effect wrote Prince Albert to Baron Stockmar. “Here, after four years,” he observed, “is the recognition of the position we took up from the first. You always said that if Monarchy was to rise in popularity, it could only be by the sovereign leading an exemplary life, and keeping quite aloof from, and above, party. Melbourne called this ‘nonsense.’ Now, Victoria is praised by Lord Spencer, the Liberal, for giving her Constitutional support to the Tories.” On the 12th of November the Queen and Prince Albert paid a visit to Lord Exeter, at Burleigh, which they left on the 15th; and the year closed with an interchange of kindly feelings between the Prince and Baron Stockmar, whose friendship was then entering upon its sixth year.

Scientific discovery, or at any rate the practical application of scientific truths to the ordinary needs of life, had made considerable progress since the accession of Queen Victoria, and it may be convenient at this stage to review some of the principal changes thus effected. Electric Telegraph was probably of more importance than any other. The active powers of the electric “fluid” had been known for many years, and some of the greatest inquirers of modern times had anticipated extraordinary results from an agency so potent, and so various in its operations. The transmission of electricity by an insulated wire was shown by several experimenters as early as 1747, and in later years telegraphic arrangements were devised by scientific explorers, both English and foreign. But no very decided progress in the transmission of thought by electricity was effected until a short period before the death of William IV., when somewhat analogous plans were simultaneously conceived in England and America by Professor Wheatstone and Professor Morse. It has sometimes been a matter of contention as to whether the honour of this discovery should belong to the one or the other; but it may in truth be fairly divided between both. The first telegraphic line in England was set up by Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Cooke, on the Great Western Railway, between Paddington and West Drayton, in 1838-9. The first telegraphic line in America was not constructed until 1844. From those respective dates, the new means of intercommunication spread rapidly on both sides of the Atlantic, until, in these days, the whole civilised world is covered with a mesh of telegraphic lines, almost as wonderful in their operation as the web of nerves which, in the living animal, carry the conceptions of the brain through every part of the system, and the impression of the senses to the seat of reason. One of the earliest practical applications of the new telegraphic system, in a matter concerning the general interests of the public, occurred at the commencement of 1845. On the 1st of January a woman was murdered at Salt Hill, near Slough, and a certain Quaker with whom she had been intimate was suspected of the crime. The man made his way to Slough, and proceeded by train to London; but a telegraphic description of his appearance, and a statement of the reasons for his detention, had reached Paddington before the time of his arrival. A policeman was waiting on the platform, and the suspected person was closely watched and followed until it was considered prudent to arrest him. He was tried, found guilty, and executed; and Sir Francis Head, the well-known writer, records that while travelling on the same railway some time afterwards, he heard a third-class passenger, pointing to the telegraph lines, remark, “Them’s the cords that hanged John Tawell.”

Another great achievement of this period is the beautiful art of Photography. Some slight approach towards this mode of producing pictures was made as long ago as the sixteenth century, when the action of light on

BURLEIGH HOUSE, STAMFORD.

chloride of silver was discovered. Further results were obtained during the eighteenth century, particularly by Thomas Wedgwood (son of the celebrated potter) and Sir Humphry Davy. Wedgwood was the author of a paper, published in 1802 in the Journal of the Royal Institution, which he entitled “An Account of a Method of Copying Paintings upon Glass, and of making Profiles by the Agency of Light upon Nitrate of Silver.” The art, however, made no great progress until it was taken up in France by M. Daguerre, who worked in concert with M. Joseph Nicéphore Niepce. The latter died in 1833, after several years’ association with M. Daguerre; but it was not until January, 1839, that the production of photographic plates was publicly announced by his partner. In the same year, Mr. Henry Fox Talbot published his mode of multiplying photographic impressions by producing in the first instance a negative photograph, from which any number of positive copies could be obtained. The earliest photographs were called Daguerreotypes and Talbotypes, after the French and English inventors; but in a few years both appellations were superseded by the Greek word photography—literally, a “light-writing,” though a “light-picture” would be the more proper description. The uses of photography have been manifold, and the satisfaction they have given in preserving the very reflex of the faces of our dead relations and cherished friends is doubtless the greatest triumph of all. Within a few months of his death, Prince Albert was deeply moved on receiving from his daughter, the Crown Princess of Prussia, a daguerreotype of his father. “How precious,” he writes to her on the 3rd of September, 1861, “is the daguerreotype! After seventeen years which have glided by since my dear father was taken away, all at once his shade has come before me—for such, in fact, it is.”17

To the early part of Queen Victoria’s reign must be referred some of the most practical applications of the gigantic telescope erected by the Earl of Rosse at Parsonstown, in Ireland. This wonderful instrument (which, however, has been much surpassed by later telescopes) was in active operation from 1828 to 1845. Its power was such as to exhibit the very rocks on this side of the moon, and our knowledge of that satellite—a barren, mournful sphere of extinguished vitality—was greatly increased by the scientific labours of Lord Rosse and his coadjutors. Returning to mundane matters, we must refer to the opening of the Thames Tunnel, which took place on the 25th of March, 1843. The shaft had been commenced, and the first brick laid, as far back as the 2nd of March, 1825; but the work was twice delayed by the irruption of water. This subway between Wapping and Rotherhithe was undoubtedly a splendid triumph of modern engineering, and reflected the highest credit on Mr. I. K. Brunel, who proposed and carried out the design. But the tunnel was not long popular, and, after the dissolution of the Company in 1866, the work was transferred to the East London Railway, by which it has since been used. The Queen and Prince Albert were much interested in the tunnel, and, in July, 1843, honoured it with a visit of inspection.

Arctic discovery made some important strides about this date. Sir John Franklin, accompanied by Captains Crozier and Fitzjames, sailed in the Erebus and Terror on his third Arctic Expedition, May 24th, 1845. From subsequent investigations, it appears that he discovered the North-west passage, having sailed down Peel and Victoria Straits (now called Franklin’s Straits) a few months after his arrival in those inhospitable regions. The Expedition, however, was fatal to the brave explorers. All England waited with anxiety for tidings of these adventurous men; but, after a few despatches, an appalling silence and mystery descended on the enterprise. Months passed away, and nothing more was heard of the Erebus and Terror. It was as if ships and men had been snatched away from the world; and the public could comfort itself only with vague hopes that, after all, the vessels and their crew would reappear at some unexpected corner of the earth. When the suspense became no longer bearable, expeditions were sent out in search of the missing voyagers, and coals, provisions, clothing, and other necessaries, were deposited at various points by the English and American Governments, by Lady Franklin, and by several private individuals. Some years later, wild rumours started up that Sir John Franklin and the gaunt remnant of his crew had been seen at this place and at that; but these accounts always proved incorrect. It is unnecessary to recount the numerous expeditions sent out by Lady Franklin, and by the Governments of Great Britain and the United States. Suffice it to say that, on the 6th of May, 1859, Lieutenant Hobson found at Point Victory, near Cape Victoria, a cairn and a tin case, the latter containing a paper, signed on the 25th of April, 1848, by Captain Fitzjames, which certified that the ships Erebus and Terror were beset with ice on the 12th of September, 1846; that Sir John Franklin died on the 11th of the following June; and that the ships were deserted on the 22nd of April, 1848. Some skeletons and other relics were afterwards discovered; but the precise nature of the sufferings endured by these heroic men is swallowed up for ever in the icy silence of the Polar Seas.

The rapid development of Tractarianism in the Church of England drew forth from the Archbishop of Canterbury a letter to the clergy of the Established Church, dated January 11th, 1845. His Grace forbore from giving any authoritative opinion on the practices recently introduced, but recommended moderation, forbearance, and mutual concession. Where the Tractarian innovations had been submitted to quietly, he thought they should be continued; but where they had been violently opposed, he advised the clergyman not to insist on their observance. Uniformity in the mode of conducting public worship he regarded as extremely desirable; but, as the Rubric was not very consistent with itself, he admitted that its authors might possibly have contemplated the existence of some diversity, when sanctioned by convenience. Nothing could be more amiable than the feeling which prompted this address; but it was clearly unfitted to appease the feelings of either the Tractarians or the Anti-Tractarians. Both sides were committed to the most extreme views, which they advocated with mutual bitterness. Eight days after the publication of the Archbishop’s circular, there was a disturbance in St. Sidwell’s Church, Exeter, arising out of the Puseyite practices of the Rev. Francis Courtenay. The matter was referred to the Bishop of Exeter by the Mayor, and the former wrote to Mr. Courtenay, recommending him to give way at the request of the civil authorities, and not to persist in wearing the surplice in the pulpit, unless his conscience should require him to do so. At the present day it seems a ridiculous wrangling over trifles to dispute whether a clergyman shall wear a surplice or a gown; but it should be recollected that these trifles were commonly held to be the outward manifestations of a fixed determination on the part of all Puseyite clergymen to assimilate the Church of England to the Church of Rome. If the opposition to the surplice was trivial, so also was the determination to wear it: if the wearing of the surplice involved a serious principle on the one side, the resistance involved an equally serious principle on the other. Yet the Archbishop of Canterbury thought that a few kindly words would compose these heart-burnings, which had already destroyed the peace of the Church, and now threatened its very existence.

From all such vexed questions, and from the inevitable contentions of party, it was an unspeakable comfort to the Queen and Prince Albert to be able to retire for a brief season to some quiet country spot, where they could live in repose and privacy. This immunity from public cares gave their special charm to the Scottish tours. But the Highlands are remote from London, and it was very desirable that some place should be found, sufficiently removed for a leisurely seclusion, and sufficiently near the metropolis for a quick and easy return. When her Majesty and the Prince accompanied the King of the French to Portsmouth at the conclusion of his visit in the autumn of 1844, they saw a charming estate in the Isle of Wight, which has since become famous as the marine residence of Osborne. It was Sir Robert Peel who drew their attention to this beautiful retreat, and in the early part of 1845 it was purchased by her Majesty. “It sounds so pleasant,” wrote the Queen to King Leopold, “to have a place of one’s own, quiet and retired, and free from all Woods and Forests, and other charming departments, which really are the plague of one’s life.” The estate was afterwards enlarged by further purchases, and the mansion then existing was almost immediately pulled down, that a larger and more dignified edifice might occupy its site. The new structure was planned by Prince Albert, and the building operations were conducted by the late Mr. Thomas Cubitt. The grounds also were laid out by the Prince, and the ornamental plantations, which owed their existence to him, are still amongst the greatest beauties of the Royal domain. Here likewise, as at Windsor, his Royal Highness had a farm for scientific agriculture, which he managed so admirably that in a little while he made it pay.

Before the opening of Parliament the Queen and Prince Albert paid two visits which were productive of general satisfaction. The first, which took place about the middle of January, was to the seat of the Duke of Buckingham at Stowe, where the Royal couple were received in a style of unusual magnificence. The other visit was to the Duke of Wellington at Strathfieldsaye, where the Royal party arrived on the 20th of January. “The Duke,” writes Mr. Anson, “takes the Queen in to dinner, and sits by her Majesty, and after dinner gets up and says, ‘With your Majesty’s permission, I give the health of her Majesty,’ and then the same for the Prince. They then adjourn to

OSBORNE, ISLE OF WIGHT.

the library, and the Duke sits on the sofa by the Queen for the rest of the evening until eleven o’clock, the Prince and the gentlemen being scattered about in the library, or the billiard-room which opens into it. In a large conservatory beyond, the band of the Duke’s Grenadier regiment plays through the evening.” The Queen and Prince Albert returned on the 23rd of January to Windsor Castle, and the brief amusements of the early year speedily gave place to those important duties which are necessarily associated with the government of a great Empire.

Parliament was opened by the Queen in person on the 4th of February. The Royal Speech referred with satisfaction to the decline of political agitation in Ireland. It was mentioned that, as a natural result of this change, private capital had been more freely applied than previously to useful public

THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON AT WINDSOR CASTLE.

enterprises, undertaken through the friendly co-operation of individuals interested in the welfare of that country. Sir Robert Peel made his annual financial statement on the 14th of the same month. The Bank Charter Act of 1844, for separating the issue from the banking department of the great establishment in Threadneedle Street, limiting the issue of notes, and requiring the whole of the further circulation to be on a basis of bullion, had already placed the monetary affairs of the country on a better footing. As regarded the Budget, the Premier calculated the revenue for the ensuing year at £53,100,000, and the expenditure at £49,000,000. Notwithstanding this surplus of more than £4,000,000, Sir Robert Peel considered it advisable to continue the Income Tax for a further period of three years, as he found it necessary to increase the expenditure on account of the public service, and desired to apply his surplus to the reduction of the sugar duty, together with the abolition of the duties on glass, cotton, and wool, and on the importation of Baltic staves. It was also proposed to abolish the duty on all those articles which yielded merely nominal amounts—a step which, it was calculated, would sweep away four hundred and thirty articles from the tariff. These proposals met with no great opposition, and were rapidly carried through Parliament by large majorities.

In another portion of his policy Peel encountered much more trouble. Measures were proposed for the establishment of Queen’s Colleges at Belfast, Cork, and Galway, which should be open to all, without religious distinction, and for increasing the annual grant to the College of Maynooth from £9,000 to £30,000. Both measures, though ultimately successful, were calculated to exasperate some of the deepest feelings of that time; and Peel found considerable difficulty in carrying out his designs. The proposed Colleges for Belfast, Cork, and Galway, were described as the “Godless Colleges,” and the expression was the common taunt levelled at all who thought such institutions likely to effect good in the mitigation of religious animosities. The opposition to the increased Maynooth grant had much more of reason on its side. The College at Maynooth had been founded by Parliament in 1795 for the education of students designed for the Roman Catholic priesthood in Ireland. An Act for its government was passed in 1800; but its existence as a State-supported institution was always repugnant to the Protestant feeling of England. When, therefore, it was proposed to add £21,000 to the yearly grant, it was not unnaturally considered by large numbers of Englishmen that the time had come for making a decided protest. No doubt a vast amount of the narrowest and fiercest bigotry was mixed up with this opposition; yet, after sweeping aside all this froth and venom, the naked fact remains that Protestants were expected to pay an annual sum towards the education of Roman Catholic priests, who were not likely to show any affection either for Protestantism or for England. The whole principle of religious endowments is open to the gravest question, and, had the opponents of the Maynooth grant taken their stand on that ground, they would have advanced their cause with all reasonable men, though probably their numerical following would have been less. But the enlistment of bigotry on the side of the objectors was not unnatural from their own point of view, though it drew down on them some scathing criticisms. Mr. Macaulay, soon afterwards known as the most brilliant historian of modern times, spoke of “the bray of Exeter Hall,” and lost his re-election for Edinburgh, two years later, in consequence of that sarcasm. After all the clamour of adverse opinions, Peel carried the increased grant; but for many years after, the late Mr. Spooner made an annual motion against the Maynooth College, and delivered himself of a rambling speech, to which few listened. Most persons found the subject a nuisance; and when the Irish Church was disestablished and disendowed in 1869, it was agreed that the annual Parliamentary grant to Maynooth should cease at the commencement of 1871, though compensation was made, as a matter of obvious fairness.

The augmentation of the Maynooth grant led to the resignation of Mr. Gladstone, who occupied the position of President of the Board of Trade in the Government of Sir Robert Peel. He was not at all opposed to the measure, which, in fact, he supported as a private member; but he considered that his book entitled “The State in its Relations with the Church,” first published in 1838, contained some passages which precluded him from taking part as a Minister in the proposed measure. In addressing the House on the 4th of February he observed:—“I have a strong conviction, speaking under ordinary circumstances and as a general rule, that those who have borne the most solemn testimony to a particular view of a great and constitutional question ought not to be parties responsible for proposals which involve a material departure from it.”

Religious questions were at that time prominently before the public, and Sir Robert Peel showed an anxiety to remove those restrictions which had formerly been considered necessary to the safety of the State and Church. During the session of 1845, a Bill was introduced by the Government for removing the test by which Jews were excluded from certain municipal offices. The existing state of the law was ridiculously inconsistent; for, while a Jew might be the High Sheriff of a county, or Sheriff of London, he was not allowed to be a Mayor, an Alderman, or a member of the Common Council. Before occupying any of these offices, he had to swear “on the true faith of a Christian,” which of course no Jew would do. A measure to remove the anomaly was introduced into the Upper House by Lord Lyndhurst, the Lord Chancellor, and, strange to say, it passed through that Assembly, which had previously resisted all attempts in the same direction. The Bill underwent no danger in the House of Commons, for the Lower Chamber had in previous sessions endeavoured to effect the same reform.

Prince Albert was extremely gratified by Sir Robert Peel’s Budget for 1845, which not only, as we have seen, reduced or obliterated a vast number of vexatious duties, but at the same time placed the finances of the country on so excellent a footing as to enable the Minister to ask for the Navy and Ordnance Estimates an increase of a million and a half so as to augment the power of Great Britain at sea. For the security of our ports, seven sail of the line were always to be available in the Channel, and three on foreign stations; and the Prince saw in these arrangements a renewed guarantee for the peace of Europe. He was also much pleased by an allusion, in the financial statement of the Prime

MAYNOOTH COLLEGE.

Minister, to the fact that the recent visits of Imperial and Royal personages had involved no additional expense to the country. The reforms in the administration of the Royal Household, due to the initiative of Prince Albert, had effected so great a saving that the Civil List was found quite adequate to the extra demands upon it. “Those visits,” said Sir Robert Peel, “of necessity created a considerable increase of expenditure; but, through that wise system of economy which is the only source of true magnificence, her Majesty was enabled to meet every charge, and to give a reception to the sovereigns which struck every one by its magnificence, without adding one tittle to the burdens of the country. I am not required on the part of her Majesty to press for the extra expenditure of one single shilling on account of these unforeseen causes of increased expenditure. I think that to state this is only due to the personal credit of her Majesty, who insists upon it that there shall be every magnificence required by her station, but without incurring a single debt.”

These gratifying statements were transmitted by Prince Albert to Baron Stockmar, who, it will be recollected, was largely concerned in those reforms in the Household which had been productive of such admirable results. In his reply, written on the 28th of February, the Baron alludes to a speech having

LORD LYNDHURST.

reference to his Royal Highness, and asks, “What can it be which has led to the reopening of that report?” The report in question was a rumour to the effect that the title of King Consort was about to be conferred upon the Prince, by the special desire of her Majesty. For this belief there was some foundation—not as respected any existing intention, but with reference to a project which was undoubtedly formed in 1841. In that year it was the earnest wish of her Majesty that the regal title should be conferred on her consort. She perceived that his somewhat anomalous position placed him at a disadvantage with other illustrious personages, and was often inconsistent with the dignity properly belonging to the Queen’s husband. Her views were therefore submitted to the judgment of Baron Stockmar, without the Prince himself knowing anything of the matter. The Baron, with that practical sense and wisdom which always distinguished him, strongly opposed the suggestion; and so did Sir Robert Peel and Lord Aberdeen, to whom, by her Majesty’s wish, Stockmar had referred the question. Both those Statesmen believed that the proposed change would be attended by undesirable results, and the project was in consequence abandoned. The revival of the idea was due in no respect either to her Majesty or to the Prince; but, in the early part of 1845, the Morning Chronicle announced that the title of King Consort was about to be created. On the 17th of February the Premier was questioned in the House of Commons as to whether there was any truth in this rumour, and Sir Robert Peel stated in reply that the paragraph was wholly without foundation. The design of making Prince Albert Commander-in-Chief after the death of the Duke of Wellington seems to have been really discussed for the second time at this period; but the duties were too onerous to be undertaken by his Royal Highness, in addition to the other demands on his attention. The appointment was never conferred on him, and it would certainly have been an affront to English feeling had such a post been occupied by a foreigner.

FAVOURITE DOGS. (After Etchings by the Queen.)