whom she had vowed to obey as well as to love. Her example was enough to quell resistance; and the prince's own tact, forbearance, and superior grasp of mind were not long in removing every obstacle to his legitimate authority.
His position with regard to public affairs was more delicate and difficult. Being what he was, it was impossible he should not engage in the study of politics domestic and foreign, so as to be in a position to assist the queen in forming just conclusions in regard to all matters affecting the welfare of her kingdom, as well as upon those which affected her family and home. So late as October 1838 Baron Stockmar had been struck with the prince's indifference to politics. This indifference was no longer possible, and he at once devoted himself to the study of them with as much conscientious zeal as if he had himself been the head of the state. At the same time he fully appreciated the just jealousy with which any active intervention in affairs of state would be regarded, and he laid it down as a rule never to expose himself to the charge of interference with the machinery of the state, or of encroachment on the functions or privileges of the sovereign. The principles on which he acted were thus expressed by himself ten years later, in a letter to the Duke of Wellington: ‘to sink his own individual existence in that of his wife—to aim at no power by himself or for himself—to shun all ostentation—to assume no separate responsibility before the public—to make his position entirely a part of hers—to fill up every gap which, as a woman, she would naturally leave in the exercise of her regal functions—continually and anxiously to watch every part of the public business, in order to be able to advise and assist her at any moment in any of the multifarious and difficult questions brought before her, political, social, or personal’—to place all his time and powers at her command ‘as the natural head of her family, superintendent of her household, manager of her private affairs, her sole confidential adviser in politics, and only assistant in her communications with the officers of the government, her private secretary, and permanent minister.’
To fit himself for accomplishing all this was the work of time, and the prince had to feel his way cautiously, and to inspire confidence in his ability and tact, no less than in his freedom from personal ambition. In Stockmar's fearless independence and great knowledge of the working of the English constitution, as well as of the forces at work throughout all the continental states, he knew that he should find the best support. To him, therefore, he appealed ‘to sacrifice his time to him for the first year of his life in England.’ Stockmar loved the prince and queen so well; he felt so strongly of what supreme importance to England the right action of the prince might be, that he yielded to this request; and not only for this first year, but for many years afterwards, he was always ready to give to the prince the benefit of his great political sagacity and wide experience. As Stockmar, according to Lord Palmerston, was ‘one of the best political heads he had ever met with,’ and as, according to Bunsen, he was ‘honoured as one of the first’ statesmen of Europe, the gain to the prince was very great, and it was prized by him as inestimable. It was the condition of Stockmar's friendship that he should speak his mind freely. To none was candour, combined with clear insight, so precious as to the sovereign and her husband. The condition was therefore frankly accepted, and never infringed, for Stockmar's noble sincerity made him more and more dear to both as the years—years of great anxiety and political disturbance—advanced. His first lesson was to inculcate the necessity of entire neutrality as between the rival parties in the state. The queen, much under the influence of Lord Melbourne, her first minister, had previously to her marriage shown too marked a leaning towards the party of which he was the leader. Its fall was obviously not far off. The prince, who shared Stockmar's views as to the necessity for the crown maintaining absolute neutrality between whig and tory, had no difficulty in persuading the queen to hold out the olive branch to the party whose advent to power could not be much longer delayed.
The impression produced by the prince on those who came into contact with him in those early days was generally favourable. ‘The prince is liked,’ wrote the watchful Stockmar (14 Feb.), and a few days later: ‘Those who are not carried away by party feelings like him greatly.’ His love of art, and his knowledge and skill in music, gave him occupation for his leisure hours, and led to his being called on to take a prominent part in the encouragement of both arts. In March he became one of the directors of the Ancient Concerts, and in arranging the programmes of these concerts, as well as those of the Philharmonic Society down to 1860, he did much to raise the standard of public taste in music. He took an active interest in all that was being done in painting and sculpture; he also let it be seen that he shared the public interest in the questions of the day. One of the most urgent of these
