THE QUEEN DRESSED IN UNIFORM FOR A REVIEW. In the afternoon they all rode, the Queen and Duchess and the two Princes, with Lord Melbourne and most of the ladies and gentlemen in attendance, forming a large cavalcade. There was a great dinner every evening, with a dance after it three times a week." This pleasant reaction went on for a week. The brothers had arrived on the 8th, Prince Albert and Queen Victoria being then both of a mind (to believe their own statements), that the tacit understanding between them was over, and they would not marry-not they -for years to come. But before the 15th had come, something had changed the notions of the young pair. Yet the wooing was not all easy and plain before them, as before other pairs. These were not the days in which any noble knight, even a prince, would address a queen. What had to be said must be said by her, not by him-a strange necessity. But no doubt "Das Auge sieht den Himmel offen, All this charming little idyl is told to us by the chief actor in it, the Queen herself, in the fullness of her heart; and the wonderful humility and simplicity with which she throughout puts herself in the secondary place is one of the most remarkable exhibitions of womanly nature that ever was revealed to the world. "How I will strive to make him feel as little as possible the great sacrifice he has made!" she says in her journal, noting down the events of that wonderful day. "I told him it was a great sacrifice on his part, but he would not allow it." The marriage was fixed for the 10th of February, 1840. The morning was dull and cloudy, with frequent showers. The bridal party set out for St. James's, where the marriage took place, through streets thronged with spectators, who stood out undaunted through the rain and cold. The Queen was received with "tremendous shouts" as she drove slowly along from Buckingham Palace to St. James's through such a crowd as had seldom assembled before even in loyal England. She was "extremely pale" as she passed along under the gaze of multitudes, her Luncheon followed at the usual hour of two o'clock. Lord Melbourne [the Prime Minister at the time] came to the Queen in the afternoon, and between five and six the Prince generally drove her out in a pony-phaeton. If the Prince did not drive the Queen, he rode, in which case she took a drive with the Duchess of Kent or the ladies. The Prince also read aloud most days to the Queen. The dinner was at eight o'clock, and always with the company......The hours were never late, and it was very seldom that the party had not broken up at eleven o'clock." There must have been exceptions to this rule, however, as "the Queen also gave many dinners, often followed by little dances; and they went frequently to the play, of which the Prince was always very fond." Then the great interest Prince Albert took in music led to the improvement of the Queen's band, and much mutual interest in this subject, which gave the first stir of that new impulse to the study of classical music, and increased taste for it, which is now so very apparent throughout England. When Prince Albert became one of the directors of Ancient Music, and in performance of his duties organized and directed one of their concerts, the Queen threw herself into this also, went to the rehearsal, and showed her interest in every way. mother by her side, crowned with nothing which they drew and etched a great deal but those pure flowers which are dedicated together, which was a source of great to the day of bridal, and not even per- amusement, having the plates bit in the mitted the luxury of a veil over her droop-house. ing face. The lace fell about her, but left her royal countenance unveiled. Even at that moment she belonged to her kingdom. When the procession returned after the ceremony, the courtly chronicle of the newspapers does not fail to record a change of expression quite according to all rules. Her Majesty had looked "anxious and excited," and "extremely pale," as she went to be married; but "she entered her own hall," coming back, "with a joyous and open countenance, flushed, perhaps, in the slightest degree," and acknowledged the cheers with which she was greeted in the most smiling and condescending manner. Shortly after, the showers and clouds disappeared as by magic, and the "Queen's weather" shone out triumphant. In the afternoon the bridal cortége set out for Windsor, driving all the way. The road was lined and thronged by spectators, twenty-two miles of it, every soul turning out from the towns and villages on the road. "Our reception," the Queen says, "was most enthusiastic, hearty, and gratifying in every way, the people quite deafening us with their cheers-horsemen, etc., going along with us." When they reached Windsor, the whole irregular line of the picturesque little town, from Eton upward to the castle gates, sparkled with lights; and Eton had turned out as one boy, with one vast shout of delight and excitement, to greet them, and accompany them from its own bounds to the last practicable stepas far as even school-boys could penetrate. Thus, with an unusual outcry of gladness, with a dense rush of sympathetic words, with every demonstration of kindness and affectionate interest which a country could give, the young pair were accompanied to the very door of their home. IV. DOMESTIC LIFE. The young pair, so happy in their love, were also happy in their mutual tastes. Both were fond of music and art, and well instructed in both. Here is the Queen's own sketch of a day of their life, with all its occupations and amusements: "They breakfasted at nine, and took a walk every morning soon afterward; then came the usual amount of business (far less heavy, however, than now), besides Queen Victoria and her husband found a mutual interest in etching, also. Their etchings were in great part drawings from their own babies, the Princes and Princesses of to-day, then small children in the nursery, and the delight of their young parents. The fond little portraits, "at six months," "at one year," of the little Princess Royal and Prince of Wales-happy memorandums of infancy which, to all parents, are beyond price-were the things which charmed the leisure of the royal amateurs. The Prince went farther than this. He painted, even, in the intervals of more important work, “and began a picture of the death of Posa, from Schiller's Don Carlos,' making first a small sketch for it, which he did beautifully," says the Queen, with fond admiration; and he wrote songs, many of them very sweet and graceful, in which "the Queen constantly helped him in the final arrangement of the music. There was no occupation which gave her THE PRINCE OF WALES AND PRINCESS ROYAL. greater pleasure." And in those days, joyful days, of which the younger generation scarcely retain any recollection, Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle were full of stately gayety and sober pomp. Kings and princes went and came; there were shows and pageants, and bright colors, and happy movement everywhere. State visits, progresses, play-goings; the Queen in the foreground of the national life, affecting it always for good, and setting an example of purity and virtue. Her pure and peaceful home, the abode of domestic love and harmony, became a centre of moral influence, and every good, cheerful, and pleasant thing. Where there had been jealousies, and discords, and perpetual strife, were now all the variations of natural piety and tenderness; for the young pair in their happiness neglected no other ties; and the Queen's mother held the honored place she deserved, close by her child's side, go ing where she went, and sharing her daily existence, notwithstanding the inevitable separations of life, in a graceful independence, yet union such as seems to present the ideal conclusion of a good mother's life. And children came, making every brightness brighter, binding the Queen to all her generation by those ties of fellow-feeling which make human emotions kin, and filling all the royal dwellings dwellings with mirth and innocent youth. The pleasures most prized by the young pair were all domestic, centring in their home; and as the years went on, and the home circle expanded, it became a pleasure to them to find other homes less splendid and less in the public gaze than quiet Windsor, beautiful and stately as that is. The sea-side villa of Osborne and the little Highland castle at Balmoral became the delightful playthings of their leisure-beloved retreats of family calm, enjoyment, and peace. The Prince had almost a passion for landscape gardening, and great skill and taste in that magnificent yet simple art. The prettiest allusions to the "island home," when the royal household was "wholly given up to the enjoyment of the warm summer weather""the children catching butterflies, and Victoria sitting under the trees"-abound; and all the improvements made at Balmoral are chronicled by the Queen with the most cordial pleasure. those two private dwellings which she speaks of, even in his lifetime, with such special affection as "entirely the creation" of her husband, have been to the Queen more dear than any other habitation, so that there has been a half grudge by times in the popular mind-one of the grudges and vexations of affection that the chief home of English royalty, the cradle of kings, has fallen into less im In later years nature in the happy interruption of their | er, and very like her mother in other appearance; the tedious routine of state processions and receptions a glance of tender humor as the baby Prince or Princess is taught its lofty part, and learns to salute with baby solemnity an admiring people. "Now we are just as many as the days in the week," comes the happy little clamor out of the nursery, breaking delightfully through the ringing of bells and royal salvos of artillery when another little brother is born. And the education of these happy children was, amidst all their great occupations, the matter most dear to the heart both of the Queen and the Prince. When England was emerging from the horror and anguish of the Indian Mutiny, and becoming capable of watching ways, with the singular conformity of the royal family to the same type of feature and color, was married to Prince Frederick William of Prussia, to the perfect satisfaction of her parents. The Queen had been too happy in her own married life not to prize happy marriages for her children beyond all other forms of good fortune. The betrothal of the young Princess, only seventeen, took place at Balmoral, and the Queen herself tells us of the pretty circumstances that attended the royal love tale, so like all other love tales in all classes, small and great. "Our dear Victoria was this day [29th September, 1855] engaged to Prince Frederick William of Prussia, who had been on a visit to us since the 14th. He had we have had to record; but now many shadows began to fall. In the spring of the year 1861 the Queen lost her mother. already spoken to us on the 20th of his wishes; but we were uncertain, on account of her extreme youth, whether he should speak to her himself, or wait till | It was her first sorrow-the first break in he came back again. However, we felt it was better he should do so; and during our ride up Haig-na-ban this afternoon he picked a piece of white heather (the emblem of good luck), which he gave to her; and this enabled him to make an allusion to his hopes and wishes, which led to this happy conclusion." The marriage took place in the very beginning of 1858, in the beautiful Chapel of St. George at Windsor, the Chapel of the Garter, and, next to Westminster, the most royal and stately of all sacred places. It has seen many other marriages and splendid ceremonials in Queen Victoria's family circle, but never any so entirely happy, with a splendor fully justified by unbroken prosperity and family joy, as this. Father and mother and children, and the mother's mother, who was receiving her reward for all the selfdenials of her early life in the unbroken domestic happiness of the expanded circle, now stood round the first bride of the family, who recalled the first Victoria and her marriage day to all England, with a happy sentiment which endeared both the mother and the child. It was such a family as might still flourish unbroken for long years, for the royal parents were still young, in the full bloom and vigor of life, and there had as yet appeared among them no warning cloud, no shadow to bring dismay. When the Princess went away, some time later, on a wintry day, through the falling snow, pale with the first sorrow of parting, that happy grief was the worst family trouble which the happy home had ever known; and all her people felt it with her, with that tender sympathy which exists among those who have accompanied each other through all the tender details of family life, and who knew the ages of the royal children by heart, calculating them by those of their own boys and girls, their contemporaries. Even now, when those children have got to the verge of middle age, and have ceased to retain the more touching interest of youth, this strong family feeling returns to the general heart, whenever there is any special joy, and still more when there is any special trouble, in the household of the Queen. So far all had been happy in the life the family. But the Duchess of Kent had attained the natural limit of human life, and it had been in the power of her daughter to surround her declining life with every comfort and care. The loss was natural and inevitable. A very different affliction was soon to come. Before the year had closed, the husband who had filled the Queen's life with happiness, whom she had truly worshipped as her guide, and wholly trusted in, her own perfect friend, helper, guardian, and lover, was suddenly taken from her side. Afterward it was said that his constitution had never been strong; and throughout his life his public duties had been constant and pressing; but till he died it had not occurred to any one that such a man, in the prime of life, with all the security of virtuous life and exemplary habits, and prosperity and happiness, still young, handsome, and with every appearance of vigor, would die. His illness was not supposed by the public to be even serious till his death was very near; and the intimation of that death gave a personal shock to the nation such as few public events have ever produced. One general sob and cry of sympathy rose everywhere for the Queen. She it was, being the first in the affections of her people, of whom England thought; and all that sympathy could do was little to sustain her in the inconceivable calamity which seemed likely to overwhelm her altogether. It was on the 14th of December, 1861, that Prince Albert died; and it is only since his death that he received the appreciation which his singularly perfect character deserved. This appreciation he had got from all who came into immediate contact with him in his lifetime; but to the mass of the people, who were not near enough to fall under his personal influence, he was not sufficiently known to be beloved. Perhaps, if truth were told, he was too uniformly noble, too high above all soil and fault, to win the fickle popular admiration, which is more caught by picturesque irregularity than by the higher perfections of a wholly worthy life. But since his death, and chiefly since the Queen's own generous and tender impulse prompted her to make the country the confidant of her own |