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.