hould he? The Prince was
interested in foreign affairs? Very well, then; let the Prince pay
attention to him--to him, who had been a Cabinet Minister when Albert
was in the cradle, who was the chosen leader of a great nation, and who
had never failed in anything he had undertaken in the whole course of
his life. Not that he wanted the Prince's attention--far from it: so far
as he could see, Albert was merely a young foreigner, who suffered from
having no vices, and whose only claim to distinction was that he had
happened to marry the Queen of England. This estimate, as he found out
to his cost, was a mistaken one. Albert was by no means insignificant,
and, behind Albert, there was another figure by no means insignificant
either--there was Stockmar.

But Palmerston, busy with his plans, his ambitions, and the management
of a great department, brushed all such considerations on one side; it
was his favourite method of action. He lived by instinct--by a quick eye
and a strong hand, a dexterous management of every crisis as it arose, a
half-unconscious sense of the vital elements in a situation. He was very
bold; and nothing gave him more exhilaration than to steer the ship of
state in a high wind, on a rough sea, with every stitch of canvas on her
that she could carry. But there is a point beyond which boldness becomes
rashness--a point perceptible only to intuition and not to reason;
and beyond that point Palmerston never went. When he saw that the cast
demanded it, he could go slow--very slow indeed in fact, his whole
career, so full of vigorous adventure, was nevertheless a masterly
example of the proverb, "tout vient a point a qui sait attendre." But
when he decided to go quick, nobody went quicker. One day, returning
from Osborne, he found that he had missed the train to London; he
ordered a special, but the station master told him that to put a special
train upon the line at that time of day would be dangerous and he
could not allow it. Palmerston insisted declaring that he had important
business in London, which could not wait. The station-master supported
by all the officials, continued to demur the company, he said, could
not possibly take the responsibility. "On MY responsibility, then!" said
Palmerston, in his off-hand, peremptory way whereupon the station-master
ordered up the train and the Foreign Secretary reached London in time
for his work, without an accident. The story, is typical of the happy
valiance wi