rather than a diminution of it.  Money was certainly more plentiful in 1840 than in 1816, and the husband of an actual Queen occupied, beyond all question, a higher position than the husband of the heiress-presumptive, who might never become Queen, and who, in fact, never did.  We cannot think, therefore, that the reduction of L20,000, which Sir Robert Peel proposed and carried, was reasonable or becoming, but regard it as neither called for by the circumstances of the kingdom, nor as befitting its liberality, nor as in harmony with its practice.

But on the two other questions—­one immediately affecting the constitution, and the other not absolutely unconnected with it—­no defence of the minister seems available.  At the opening of Parliament in 1840, her Majesty commenced her speech by the announcement of her intended marriage, describing the bridegroom simply as “the Prince of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha,” the same expression which she had used in addressing the Privy Council a few weeks before.  That description of him had at once struck her uncle, Leopold—­who, since the death of his English wife, the Princess Charlotte, had become King of Belgium—­as so imperfect and insufficient, that, on reading her address to the Privy Council, he at once wrote to her to point out that it would have been desirable to mention the fact of the Prince being a Protestant,[250] and that the omission would inevitably cause discontent.  But, in spite of this warning, Lord Melbourne refused to advise the Queen to insert a statement of the Prince’s religion in her speech, though it was by no means superfluous on such an occasion, since, if he were a Roman Catholic, a marriage with him would have incurred a forfeiture of the crown.  The Duke of Wellington, on the other hand, regarded it as a positive duty to require that the fact of the Prince being a Protestant should be mentioned, so as to show the care of Parliament to prevent any constitutional precautions from being overlooked, such statement having, indeed, been usually made on similar occasions.  When he, therefore, moved an amendment to insert the word “Protestant” in the description of the Prince, Lord Melbourne did not venture to divide the House against it; but still his management gave an ungracious appearance to the transaction, as if there had been in any quarter an unwillingness to recognize the fact of the Prince’s Protestantism till the recognition was forced on the government by the action of the Parliament.

The third question, as affecting the relative ranks and positions of the different members of the royal family, cannot be said to have been wholly unconnected with the provisions of the constitution; and the mismanagement of the minister was, perhaps, even more sure to attract notice in this case than in the other, since to introduce into a bill a clause which had no connection whatever with its title had something of the appearance of a deliberate slight to the two Houses.  A bill