some of us were to storm the old ruined tower on the side of the castle, which the others were to defend. One of us suggested that there was a place at the back by which we could get in without being seen, and thus capture it without difficulty. Albert declared that "this would be most unbecoming in a Saxon knight, who should always attack the enemy in front;" and so we fought for the tower so honestly and vigorously, that Albert, by mistake, for I was on his side, gave me a blow upon the nose, of which I still bear the mark. I need not say how sorry he was for the wound he had given me.

6

...

He had a natural talent for imitation, and a great sense of the ludicrous, either in persons or things; but he was never severe or illnatured, the general kindness of his disposition preventing him from pushing a joke, however he might enjoy it, so as to hurt any one's feelings. Every man has, more or less, a ridiculous side; and to quiz this, in a friendly and good-humoured manner, is, after all, the pleasantest description of humour. Albert possessed this rare gift in an eminent degree.

'From his earliest infancy he was distinguished for perfect moral purity, both in word and in deed; and to this he owed the sweetness of disposition so much admired by every one.'

It was well for England that these qualities did not escape the penetrating eye of the Prince's uncle, King Leopold. To the young Princess Victoria, heir-apparent to that throne, from the perilous splendours of which his youthful bride had been snatched by her untimely fate, Leopold had been a father--the only father the Princess had ever known. In her his affections had been centred; in her reign he yearned to see the fulfilment of that exemplar of constitutional monarchy which he had hoped to illustrate in the persons of the ill-fated Princess Charlotte and himself. In the character of his youthful nephew he saw the qualities which gave promise of what he could wish for in the Consort of his royal niece, and he singled him out from boyhood for the destiny he was ultimately to fulfil.

But the King was too conscientious to trust to his own judgment in so grave a matter;-and, well for our Queen, well for the Prince, well for England, he called to his aid one, on whose sagacity and fearless independence he could thoroughly rely. This was the friend of his heart-the friend who had stood by him in his hour of agony-the friend in whose heart thrilled to the last the pressure of the hand of that beloved Princess, which, as her life ebbed away, clung to his, as if to adjure him not to forsake the Prince, into whose eyes her own were never more to look. This was Baron Ernest von Stockmar, the inseparable companion of her uncle. He had often nursed the baby Princess Victoria in his arms; as she grew up she had often played around his knees, and, while she drank in instruction from Vol. 138.-No. 275.

I

his

his lips, had grown to love him for his playful and kindly ways. But it was obviously not the future Queen of England merely whom Stockmar loved. He loved England, too; loved it with all his heart, as the citadel and bulwark of freedom, the one country in the world in which the claims of the many had been recognised, where a free civil life, and 'pure religion breathing household laws' were to be found in fuller force than they had yet been known in history. A time of many and radical changes he saw well was rapidly coming on; and he who was to possess the heart and ear of England's Queen, and to influence her domestic and public life, Stockmar had said to himself must be

no common man.

It was not enough for a counsellor of this class that the young Prince Albert came recommended by the good opinion either of King Leopold, or of the many princely friends who had been impressed by the exceptional qualities that marked the Prince's youth. In this, as in all things, Stockmar would answer only according to his conscience. The welfare of the young Queen, the welfare, it might be, of a great nation, were dependent on the issue. He must prove the young man thoroughly before he would lend any sanction to his candidature; and he would do so only then if he found in him the 'making' of a noble Prince, fully equal to the position for which he was destined.

Those who are old enough to be familiar with the incidents of the early part of the present reign will remember the whispers of jealousy with which the name of Baron Stockmar used to be spoken. A foreigner, with foreign notions, with foreign attachments, using a dangerous influence for the advancement at the English Court of interests other than English interests, was the idea of the man, which had become rooted in the minds of certain circles. The simple facts are brought before us in the present volume; and all may now learn that England had no truer friend, that her Queen had no more loyal or Englishhearted adviser, and that Prince Albert had in him a mentor whose sole object was to accomplish him in all respects for the duties of his station, that England's stability might be strengthened amid the crash of tottering kingdoms, and that her greatness might be upheld amidst every assault from without and from within.

In all his relations with the Prince Consort, the appearance presented by Baron Stockmar is truly admirable. Never, in the history of Kings and Princes, do we find that any of these ruling personages had a truer friend than the Prince Consort was blessed with in Baron Stockmar. It was to the honour of both, that it was fearless and frank on the side of the Baron, as it was

trustful

trustful and sincerely modest on that of the Prince. Sometimes, in the course of Mr. Martin's narrative, one almost thinks that the Baron exceeds the limits even of true friendship in saying disagreeable things to his Royal friend. But the Prince knew better. What his friend said he knew was prompted by a heart that loved, as few can love, no less than by a head that thought, as few could think. Nothing from such a friend could, therefore, come amiss.

At the first the Baron forms an opinion not altogether favourable of the Prince's character. At any rate, he sees grave errors and certain dangers:

'The Prince,' he says [Denkwürdigkeiten, p. 331), 'bears a striking resemblance to his mother, and at the same time, though differing in much, takes after her in many respects, both physical and mental. He has the same mobility and readiness of mind, the same intelligence, the same overruling desire and talent for appearing kind and amiable to others, the same tendency to espièglerie, and to the treatment of men and things in a droll and consequently often pleasant fashion, the same habit of not dwelling long upon a subject.

'His constitution cannot be called strong; still I incline to think, that with proper dietetic management of himself, it may easily gain strength and stability. After any exertion he is apt to look pale and exhausted. Great exertion is repugnant to him, and his tendency is to spare himself both morally and physically.'

Upon these remarks of Baron Stockmar, Mr. Martin judiciously observes:

'Such was the searching accuracy of Stockmar's powers of observation, that it is impossible to doubt the general truth of this sketch. The eye of the old physician was not more quick to detect the latent constitutional weakness, which was afterwards fatally developed, than to see the disinclination to sustained effort, which was probably in a great measure, if not wholly, the result of that weakness. At the same time it must not be forgotten that the standard by which Stockmar judged the Prince was no ordinary one. How few young men, even the greatly gifted, could have borne so well a scrutiny so relentlessly severe ?

among

6

On the betrothal of the Queen and Prince Albert, the Prince wrote to the Baron to give what he knew would be the most welcome news possible; and, speaking of the joyful fact, in the tenderest and most modest terms, says, after the fashion of all true lovers, that he is puzzled to believe that he should be the object of so much affection,' concluding with Schiller's beautiful lines in the Song of the Bell,' when the poet's youth and maiden are betrothed.

'Das Auge sieht den Himmel offen,
Es schwelgt das Herz in Seligkeit.'

I 2

'Stockmar,'

'Stockmar,' says the biographer, would not have been Stockmar, if, while offering to the Prince his hearty congratulations in return, he had not coupled them with earnest counsels as to the course which must be pursued in laying the foundation of his future happiness, and in fulfilling worthily the duties of his great position. The Prince's reply was well calculated to assure him he would not be disappointed. Dear Baron Stockmar,-A thousand, thousand thanks for your dear, kind letter. I felt sure you would take much interest in an event of such moment to myself, and for which you have yourself paved the way.

'I have laid to heart your friendly and kind-hearted counsels as to the true foundation on which my future happiness must rest, and they accord entirely with the principles which I had already thought out upon that subject for myself. An individuality, a character, which shall win the respect, the love, and the confidence of the Queen and of the nation, must be the keystone of my position. Such an individuality gives a guarantee for the disposition, which prompts the actions; and where this exists, even should mistakes be committed, they are more likely to have allowance made for them, than are the best and grandest designs to secure support, where confidence in their author is wanting.'

And, indeed, throughout the whole of this most valuable correspondence, the Baron plays the part of Mentor with so much severity and with so little reticence, that we sometimes wonder whether a grown-up and decidedly mature Telemachus will endure it. But the Prince is never offended, and never replies with other than the due modesty of a younger man, and the due affection of a friend to a true friend. We should be inclined to rest our opinion of the Prince's character and the Prince's merits upon the Correspondence between himself and Baron Stockmar, if that alone had been published. If the Baron never forgets that he is somewhat of a tutor, the Prince always remembers that he is a Prince, and must reply with princely courtesy and just consideration to one of the best and truest of friends.

We have sometimes thought while 'reading the letters and conversations that are recorded in this book, between the Prince Consort and Baron Stockmar, that the Baron was a kind of virtuous Macchiavelli. The good man would doubtless have been much astonished if he could have heard himself so described. Those, however, who have read their Macchiavelli must, we think, have read him to little purpose, if they have not discerned that he would have given very virtuous counsels, if virtue had been the fashion of his day. It is in the depth and shrewdness of the Baron's remarks that we have traced this singular resemblance. He always seeks to impress upon his

Prince the necessity for continuing to build up his own character in such a manner as to make it most serviceable with regard to the position that he occupied-in short, to make himself a noble and great man, and then that all good work would follow. He is to be diligent, not to fear hostile censure, not to give his mind too much to details (an error which the Prince was not unlikely to commit), but to seek out the principles upon which any great affair was to be conducted, to hold to them, and to impress them upon others. Do right, and all will come right.

There is one fact which we wish our readers to take into due consideration. The Prince Consort was born in 1819. The end of this volume of Mr. Theodore Martin's brings His Royal Highness's life up to 1848. He was, therefore, only twenty-nine years of age at the conclusion of this part of the narrative. And it is certainly most surprising, that a man of this comparative youthfulness should have manifested the mature sagacity which appears throughout these pages. make this remark, because we ourselves found, in considering this Life of the Prince Consort,' that we had unconsciously been thinking of him as when we mourned his loss, and when he was thirteen years older.

We

The work we are criticising most happily illustrates the political history of the period. And here again we must give his due meed of praise to the biographer, who has dealt with this part of the subject almost as if he were a man devoid of party feelings. We should conjecture that Mr. Theodore Martin is one of those persons who take a great interest in politics; but, to a certain point, it is the interest of a bystander. There is evidently a love of order and discipline in his mind which makes him somewhat Conservative. On the other hand, he is willing to welcome improvement from whatever quarter it may come, and to look generously at all endeavours in that direction. He seems to sympathise with each Ministry as it comes forward on the stage; and, in that respect, he associates himself with the thoughts and feelings of his hero.

Had this book been merely a record of the private life of the Prince Consort, we should have welcomed it on that account; but it has for us a much deeper and much wider interest. The book will be most valuable as an historical record; and, not the less so, to those persons who have lived through the times which Mr. Theodore Martin has described, for nearly all of us must acknowledge that it is about the events of contemporary history that our memories present us a strangely blurred and often a most inaccurate conception.

It was probably not foreseen by the biographer, when he ac

cepted