on the advice of Albert, noted down what had passed in a memorandum:  “I said that I thought that Lord Palmerston often endangered the honour of England by taking a very prejudiced and one-sided view of a question; that his writings were always as bitter as gall and did great harm, which Lord John entirely assented to, and that I often felt quite ill from anxiety.”  Then she turned to her uncle.  “The state of Germany,” she wrote in a comprehensive and despairing review of the European situation, “is dreadful, and one does feel quite ashamed about that once really so peaceful and happy country.  That there are still good people there I am sure, but they allow themselves to be worked upon in a frightful and shameful way.  In France a crisis seems at hand.  What a very bad figure we cut in this mediation!  Really it is quite immoral, with Ireland quivering in our grasp and ready to throw off her allegiance at any moment, for us to force Austria to give up her lawful possessions.  What shall we say if Canada, Malta, etc., begin to trouble us?  It hurts me terribly.”  But what did Lord Palmerston care?

Lord John’s position grew more and more irksome.  He did not approve of his colleague’s treatment of the Queen.  When he begged him to be more careful, he was met with the reply that 28,000 despatches passed through the Foreign Office in a single year, that, if every one of these were to be subjected to the royal criticism, the delay would be most serious, that, as it was, the waste of time and the worry involved in submitting drafts to the meticulous examination of Prince Albert was almost too much for an overworked Minister, and that, as a matter of fact, the postponement of important decisions owing to this cause had already produced very unpleasant diplomatic consequences.  These excuses would have impressed Lord John more favourably if he had not himself had to suffer from a similar neglect.  As often as not Palmerston failed to communicate even to him the most important despatches.  The Foreign Secretary was becoming an almost independent power, acting on his own initiative, and swaying the policy of England on his own responsibility.  On one occasion, in 1847, he had actually been upon the point of threatening to break off diplomatic relations with France without consulting either the Cabinet or the Prime Minister.  And such incidents were constantly recurring.  When this became known to the Prince, he saw that his opportunity had come.  If he could only drive in to the utmost the wedge between the two statesmen, if he could only secure the alliance of Lord John, then the suppression or the removal of Lord Palmerston would be almost certain to follow.  He set about the business with all the pertinacity of his nature.  Both he and the Queen put every kind of pressure upon the Prime Minister.  They wrote, they harangued, they relapsed into awful silence.  It occurred to them that Lord Clarendon, an important member of the Cabinet, would be a useful