Unacceptable as Mr. Gladstone’s policy was,
there was something else about him which was even
more displeasing to Victoria. She disliked his
personal demeanour towards herself. It was not
that Mr. Gladstone, in his intercourse with her, was
in any degree lacking in courtesy or respect.
On the contrary, an extraordinary reverence impregnated
his manner, both in his conversation and his correspondence
with the Sovereign. Indeed, with that deep and
passionate conservatism which, to the very end of
his incredible career, gave such an unexpected colouring
to his inexplicable character, Mr.
Gladstone viewed
Victoria through a haze of awe which was almost religious—as
a sacrosanct embodiment of venerable traditions—a
vital element in the British Constitution—a
Queen by Act of Parliament. But unfortunately
the lady did not appreciate the compliment. The
well-known complaint—“He speaks to
me as if I were a public meeting-” whether authentic
or no—and the turn of the sentence is surely
a little too epigrammatic to be genuinely Victorian—undoubtedly
expresses the essential element of her antipathy.
She had no objection to being considered as an institution;
she was one, and she knew it. But she was a woman
too, and to be considered only as an institution—that
was unbearable. And thus all Mr. Gladstone’s
zeal and devotion, his ceremonious phrases, his low
bows, his punctilious correctitudes, were utterly
wasted; and when, in the excess of his loyalty, he
went further, and imputed to the object of his veneration,
with obsequious blindness, the subtlety of intellect,
the wide reading, the grave enthusiasm, which he himself
possessed, the misunderstanding became complete.
The discordance between the actual Victoria and this
strange Divinity made in Mr. Gladstone’s image
produced disastrous results. Her discomfort and
dislike turned at last into positive animosity, and,
though her manners continued to be perfect, she never
for a moment unbent; while he on his side was overcome
with disappointment, perplexity, and mortification.
Yet his fidelity remained unshaken. When the
Cabinet met, the Prime Minister, filled with his beatific
vision, would open the proceedings by reading aloud
the letters which he had received from the Queen upon
the questions of the hour. The assembly sat in
absolute silence while, one after another, the royal
missives, with their emphases, their ejaculations,
and their grammatical peculiarities, boomed forth in
all the deep solemnity of Mr. Gladstone’s utterance.
Not a single comment, of any kind, was ever hazarded;
and, after a fitting pause, the Cabinet proceeded
with the business of the day.
