y often, they could continue to
correspond. Never were the inconsistencies of Lord Melbourne's character
shown more clearly than in what followed. So long as he was in office,
his attitude towards Peel had been irreproachable; he had done all he
could to facilitate the change of government, he had even, through more
than one channel, transmitted privately to his successful rival advice
as to the best means of winning the Queen's good graces. Yet, no sooner
was he in opposition than his heart failed him. He could not bear the
thought of surrendering altogether the privilege and the pleasure of
giving counsel to Victoria--of being cut off completely from the power
and the intimacy which had been his for so long and in such abundant
measure. Though he had declared that he would be perfectly discreet in
his letters, he could not resist taking advantage of the opening they
afforded. He discussed in detail various public questions, and, in
particular, gave the Queen a great deal of advice in the matter of
appointments. This advice was followed. Lord Melbourne recommended
that Lord Heytesbury, who, he said, was an able man, should be made
Ambassador at Vienna; and a week later the Queen wrote to the Foreign
Secretary urging that Lord Heytesbury, whom she believed to be a very
able man, should be employed "on some important mission." Stockmar
was very much alarmed. He wrote a memorandum, pointing out the
unconstitutional nature of Lord Melbourne's proceedings and the
unpleasant position in which the Queen might find herself if they were
discovered by Peel; and he instructed Anson to take this memorandum to
the ex-Minister. Lord Melbourne, lounging on a sofa, read it through
with compressed lips. "This is quite an apple-pie opinion," he said.
When Anson ventured to expostulate further, suggesting that it was
unseemly in the leader of the Opposition to maintain an intimate
relationship with the Sovereign, the old man lost his temper. "God
eternally damn it!" he exclaimed, leaping up from his sofa, and dashing
about the room. "Flesh and blood cannot stand this!" He continued to
write to the Queen, as before; and two more violent bombardments from
the Baron were needed before he was brought to reason. Then, gradually,
his letters grew less and less frequent, with fewer and fewer references
to public concerns; at last, they were entirely innocuous. The Baron
smiled; Lord M. had accepted the inevitable.

The Whig Ministry resigned in