of the common gossips of the place, and still she shrank from asking even kind Mrs. Godwin herself. Mr. Godwin, she observed, seldom if ever mentioned Harry's namethat in itself was a bad symptom. Archy seemed to know nothing, and of course suspected nothing. His intercourse with the people of the place was necessarily very limited, and unless the Godwins should make him acquainted with the stories told about his brother, it was not likely that they would ever reach his ear. "Some day," said Margaret, "I will know all, even if I ask Mrs. Godwin myself;" and if she shrank from making the inquiry at once, it was from no misgiving in her own mind that her friend had been guilty of any act of moral culpability. "He has only been doing some of his old rash acts," she said to herself, "setting public opinion at defiance, and bringing blame upon himself for nothing. Perhaps some wild sea enterprise has kept him out late at night, or he has been seen in the company of strange people-fishermen or sailors. Something of that kind must have brought these unaccountable suspicions upon him, for that Harry has been wicked or mean I never will believe." The real charges brought against Harry Dunlop were such as Margaret never would have dreamed of, still less could have believed; and yet they were just such as no one could contradict, or clear him from. They would have been no very improbable charges to bring against many young men, and it required a very intimate knowledge of Harry, and a thorough acquaintance with his character, for any one who heard them under present circumstances to reject them as entirely untrue. It would scarcely have been in keeping with a character like Mrs. Godwin's to avoid speaking on any subject closely interesting to Margaret and herself. Even had the subject worn a darker aspect than this did to her, she would have been almost sure to speak, unless indeed it had been one of confirmed disgrace and shame; and as it was her general practice to find out the bright points in every picture, and the hope ful indications in every case, there were few subjects on which she did not speak with her intimate friends, and sometimes she spoke both warmly and eloquently. Thus, the very first time that Margaret was alone with Mrs. Godwin, and likely to be so for a considerable length of time, the subject which was upon both their hearts was fairly entered upon, soon, however, to be interrupted by Margaret's earnest exclamation,-"But what is it, my dear Mrs. Godwin? I do not so much as know what all this is about." "Not know?" exclaimed her friend, with the utmost astonishment. "No; I would neither ask my aunt, nor allow her to tell me." "You are a strange girl! Why, I thought you took a deep interest in Harry Dunlop." "So I do. Perhaps too deep to sit still and hear him abused." "Oh, I understand you now! Well, you remember Tom Lawson, a young farming man that Mr. Dunlop took away with him? He was engaged to a smart pretty girl, the niece of James Halliday, the fisherman who lives down in the little bay yonder-not a good man, and one whom I suspect of being at the root of all this mischief." "What does he say? I know James Halliday, and have seen his niece, who appeared to me a respectable, nice kind of girl." "Yes, altogether respectable; no one can say anything to the contrary. And observeit is not a case of open wickedness which they attempt to bring forward, or we might all have joined to contradict it; but of treachery and deception." "Such as Harry Dunlop never would, nor could, be guilty of!" "So I say, and I say it the more confidently because I do not believe that treachery and deception ever come at once. I believe there is always some preliminary failure of principle, or weakness of character, or something of that kind, to indicate the probability of deception before it occurs to any considerable extent; and Harry Dunlop was clear as the day, like a rock in his firmness and decision-almost too bold and stern in his integrity: nothing could shake him nothing could make him yield. But for all that, appearances are against him. There is no doubt but that he was seen more than once walking with Nelly Armstrong, deeply absorbed in some kind of confidential intercourse; and the report goes in this way-that while planning to get the girl over to Canada, ostensibly to join her affianced husband, Tom Lawson, he has been secretly scheming to get her over to be his own wife," "Absurd! impossible!" "Yes, I say absurd, and impossible, too; but then he was seen walking with Nelly late on the cliff, he was a frequent visitor at her uncle's cottage, he was seen in earnest conversation with her late on the evening before you and Agnes left to return to school." "On that evening?" exclaimed Margaret, earnestly, and she remembered almost instantaneously all that took place-her long walk with Harry on the seashore that evening, not only what they had talked about, but the very tones of his voice-his lookseverything-even to the slightest expression which had been associated in her mind with that memorable evening; and was it possible, she thought, woman-like, that he could have walked with another girl after that-a very different girl from herself,-and could have carried on a conversation such as these people described? Margaret had no proof to the contrary. Harry Dunlop had never written to her. Even in the close and interesting communion of mind with mind, or rather of soul with soul, which had marked their intercourse that evening, and made it memorable, he had said nothing to her except as friend might speak to friend. He had given her no pledge by which she might hold him under any especial bond to herself. He was free, as regarded her, to speculate upon any wife that might suit his heart and home. And yet there was undeniably a something, which it would have been impossible for her to define, which made this story, if true, assume an air of meanness in him, and of treachery to her. If true! Margaret was shocked, grieved, disturbed, perhaps, beyond what she had ever been in her life before; but after looking thoughtfully upon the ground for some time, she raised her clear eyes, and fixing them full upon Mrs. Godwin's face, said calmly, but firmly, "I don't believe it." "No more do I," said the cheery little woman, and they walked on together more happily, talking pleasantly of other things. THE HOME LIFE OF H.R.H. THE PRINCE CONSORT. "We know him now, all narrow jealousies NE summer's day, nearly thirty years ago, there was a grand ceremony at Westminster. Men talked of it in lands severed by half the circumference of the globe. It absorbed the thoughts of millions throughout the British Isles. The scep. tre of these realms had fallen from the grasp of our grey-haired sailor King, and been taken up by a young and gentle girl. Not the gorgeous equipages, the State pageantry, nor yet the imposing grandeur of the vast multitudes, chiefly arrested attention-it was her fair, calm face that was the sight most coveted as she then passed to her coronation. Manly eyes moistened as they watched it on her progress to the great Abbey, and as she returned, her smoothly-banded hair crowned with the diadem of England, Christian hearts swelled with an emotion such as Christianity approves. For loyalty is no earth-born sentiment. The King immortal and invisible does not borrow from, but lends His titles to, mundane princes. His relationships to us are only reflected by our relationships to each other. Two years later, the great Dover road was thronged with spectators, for railways were yet in their infancy. The fair lady who wore the Imperial crown of these realms was about to share so much of its burden as was per. mitted to her with a young German Prince of the Protestant line of Saxony; and again the multitudes had gathered for a momentary sight of a single face. That face was one to photograph itself on the memory. It bespoke a cultivated intellect, a gentle heart, and dignified firmness of character. The sweet gravity of its expression, indicating a sense of the responsibility about to be assumed, was welcome to all who valued the happiness of the Queen and the welfare of the country. Years sped on, and the opening promise of "twain lives made one," was developed in the Home Life of a Royal Household, which presented such a picture of "whatsoever things are pure, lovely, and of good report," that the nation's loyalty, advancing far beyond the principle of allegiance to the throne, deepened into a feeling of almost personal attachment and affection towards the Queen and her Husband. The royal pair became a notable pattern of those private and domestic virtues which, next to the "righteousness" which "exalteth a people," are the truest elements of a nation's strength and prosperity. Those who bear in mind how demoralising and wide-spread must be the influence which the profligacy of a Royal Court necessarily exerts, are able to appreciate the reformation in social and family life which the Queen and her Consort so powerfully promoted in the land. From the very first, the princely character of Albert was manifest. Called at an early age to fill a most difficult position, he shunned on the one hand the fashionable vices and frivolities of youth, and on the other the ensnaring temptations of political ambition. He chose a path of his own, which has for ever associated his name with the progress of his adopted country, in manufactures, agriculture, selence, and the fine arts; and, what is far more important, identified him with every philanthropic and educational movement of the age. Of course he did not always please all. No man in such a position could entirely escape either the jealousies in which even the great sometimes indulge, or the vulgar detraction which is natural to the mean. But throughout his career the voice of jealousy or detraction was very seldom able to make itself heard, and when it did succeed, it was instantly silenced by the nation's expression of indignant reprobation. But however appreciated whilst living, it was not till that sad morning when the shock of grief fell upon every heart and home in the land, and eyes that had scarcely ever been dim with tears, overflowed for their Queen, in the desolating bitterness of her great bereave, ment-it was not till then that England could really know and feel how much she owed to the wise counsel and conduct of her noble Prince. The telegraphic communication which, on that Sabbath morning, stilled the voice of prayer in so many Christian temples for one who needed prayer no more, aroused and quickened the pulsations of the national heart : and that heart, throbbing in closest sympathy with the sorrow of the best of earthly sove, reigns, bespoke, in language which could not be misunderstood, the sense of a loss which the country felt could scarcely be over-estimated. Since the hour of this great sorrow, years have again sped on, and we may truly say, whilst time has fled, our Queen in her widowed loneliness, whether in her household or upon her throne, has not been less queenly than before. We know there have been those who have found occasion for censure in Her Majesty's partial retirement from the world's gay circle-where grief is so often disguised from the eye, but continues nevertheless as a canker-worm to feed on the heart. But even that retirement, we doubt not, has had its influence for good: and whilst Christian loyalty may and ought to prompt the earnest prayer that the light of another world may increasingly dispel the sorrowful recollections connected with happiness in this which has passed away, filling their place with the anticipations of hope looking forward to a reunion above, and so bracing the mind for active service till the appointed time, it should ever be remembered that Her Majesty's partial retirement must be regarded as a personal matter, in which her own judgment alone could guide her; and, moreover, we must also admit that hitherto this retirement has never been allowed, in any single instance, to interfere with the faithful discharge of the royal duties incumbent upon her. Her walk in life may have been less public than it would otherwise have been, but perhaps it has not on that account been less influential. The "outward pomp and circumstance" of royalty, after all, is not the glory that excelleth. There are "touches of nature" which forge closer links of attachment than can be created in the atmosphere of magnificent palaces and crowded levées. The Queen has gained an entrance to many a palace-heart-even in cottage homes -which has opened the more readily to welcome her, because the bond of sympathy had been formed by the hallowing influence of a common sorrow. We may have seen a little less of the Queen, but we have certainly seen far more of the woman: and in the woman we have learned the more to revere the Queen. The humblest of her people have seen how they are remembered by their sovereign; and those palace messages to widows and orphans in the hour of national calamity, whilst they spoke to the nation, are treasured as words seldom are treasured, in many a grateful heart. As a woman, in a queenly manner, Her Majesty has especially devoted herself to the exalted ministry of sympathy-soothing the sorrowful, cheering the sad, and alleviating the pains of the sick and the distressed: and we are well assured that in the ultimate estimate of royal influence, any disadvantages which may be thought in some cases to have arisen from her partial retirement from public life, will be felt to be unworthy to be named in comparison with the higher office which that retirement has enabled her the more effectively to discharge, It is in this light we regard and accept the remarkable volume-" The Early Years of His Royal Highness the Prince Consort"-which the Queen, with the simple, free, and unreserved confidence which she has ever displayed, has just placed in the hands of her subjects. The original design, as we are informed, was to furnish " a biography for his sons and daughters-for those eyes alone that had the right of blood or of close friendship, to view nothing as unimportant which might revive a forgotten touch, or deepen a familiar trait, in the picture of a Prince whose life and death have given new meanings to royalty." But Her Majesty ultimately and wisely resolved to "make her people members of her family." The confidence reposed will not have been misplaced. "This pathetic book-glowing with household fondnesses, and plain to boldness in its resolute wish to let nothing go of the dead that can be saved-will speak to the millions the things they understand best. Whoever does not thank Her Majesty for these pages -beautiful with a pure and faithful affection, and richer in their common humanity than any stately style or nice choice of royal incidents could make them-wants eyesight to see great facts. He will be one who thinks the jewels of a crown brighter than the tears of a Queen, State papers more precious than the souvenirs of a perfect bond of hearts, and royalty too high and too unhappy a state to have the right to be human, or to hold its human prerogatives of love and loving memories dearer than all its other splendour." Our readers are doubtless already familiar with the extracts from the volume which have appeared in most of the public journals: but we are sure they will welcome an attempt to present, in this and a succeeding paper, a somewhat more connected narrative of the Home Life of the Prince. Prince Albert's father was Duke Ernest I. of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld. He married in 1817 the daughter of the last Duke of Gotha. They had two sons-Ernest, the present reigning Duke, born in 1818, and Albert, born on the 26th of August, 1819. A memorandum, written by the Queen in 1864, describes the Duchess, their mother, as 66 'very handsome, although very small; fair, and with blue eyes: and Prince Albert is said to have been extremely like her." She was, moreover, full of cleverness and talent. The Duchess died in 1831, in her thirtysecond year; and the Princes were, from this period, mainly indebted for motherly care to their grandmothers, the Dowager-Duchess of Coburg-Saalfeld, and the Duchess of SaxeGotha, who watched over them with the most constant anxiety. From their infancy indeed, we are told, the grandmothers seemed to vie with each other as to which should show the two children the most love and kindness. From the Duchess of Coburg we have the first announcement of the arrival of the Prince, written from the bedside of her daughter-inlaw to her own daughter, the Duchess of Kent, in England. "I am sitting by Louischen's bed (at Rosenau). She was yesterday morning safely and quickly delivered of a little boy. Siebold, the accoucheuse, had only been called at three, and at six the little one gave his first cry in this world, and looked about like little squirrel with a pair of large black eyes. I found the little mother slightly exhausted, but gaie et dispos. She sends you and Edward [the Duke of Kent] a thousand kind messages." Her Majesty observes in a foot-note that "the eyes were blue;" but the Duchess afterwards repeats her statement, which proved correct. And, in that second letter, she also speaks of the "little May flower" born in the same year-three months before: the said "May flower" being no other than the Princess Victoria. The Prince was baptized in September, 1819, by the names of Francis Charles Augustus Albert Emmanuel, but Albert was the name by which he was always known. He must certainly have been a most charming child. The following is his mother's description of him when he was eight months old, in which she contrasts the two brothers: "Ernest est bien grand pour son âge, vif et intelligent. Ses grands yeux noirs pétillent d'esprit et de vivacité. . . . Albert est superbe -d'une beauté extraordinaire; a des grands yeux bleus, une toute petite bouche-un joli nez-et des fossettes à chaque joue-il est grand et vif, et toujours gai. Il a trois dents, et, malgré qu'il n'a que huit mois, il commence déjà à marcher." Something, perhaps, must be allowed to a mother's partiality, but a portrait of the Prince at the age of four prefixed to the volume amply supports the praises that are lavished on his beauty in childhood. It is as beautiful a child's face as could be conceived. As a portrait it is an exquisite work of art, but painters rarely draw, even from fancy, so lovely a face. The education of the two young Princes, notwithstanding one or two serious disadvan tages, was from the first excellently conducted; and their life during the next fourteen years is described in a good deal of interesting detail. We have pictures of the little one at the mature age of two when he drags his "uncle Leopold" about the castle, and is "teething, like his little cousin in England"—always with his elder brother Ernest. At five we see him transferred from the nurse to the care of the tutor Herr Florschütz, under whose charge the brothers remained for fifteen years, until they had completed their education at the University of Bonn. Their removal from female care at so early an age caused very natural anxiety in their grandmother at Gotha, for the Prince was subject to dangerous attacks of croup. But we are told that "the Prince from a child showed a great dislike to being in the charge of women, and rejoiced instead of sorrowing over the contemplated change." The strength of the Prince, indeed, was in his mind rather than in his body. He was healthy, but never robust. King Leopold describes him as "looking delicate in his youngest days," but adds that "he was always an intelligent child, and held a certain sway over his brother, who rather kindly submitted to it." The two Princes were evidently much like other boys a fact not necessarily surprising to anybody that we know of, except gold-sticksin-waiting and the like. We have a joyous little letter, commencing, "Papa took me to breakfast, and I got a beautiful crown piece "— for by this time the Prince has mastered the "dreadful elements;" but they don't always agree with him, for he puts down in his boy memoranda : It is a little sad to notice that on the 10th also "I had another fight with my brother;" though conscience, or the Herr Tutor, has appended to this second the observation "that was not right." While the Princes were thus variously engaged at books or fraternal cuffs at Coburg and Rosenau, the father was made Duke of Gotha, and the boys went there under their grandmother's care. The Duchess's views were clearly sensible, since she concludes a letter on their regimen with the remark that " a wellregulated diet, and as much air as possible, are better than all the medicines." The prince at this time must have had great qualities, for they were recognized by his playfellows; and boys are no panegyrists nor tuft. hunters. Playing at "dukes and emperors at Gotha, we find young Albert chosen to the latter responsible title, which he wore till bedtime with success. The strength and nobleness of his character are also brought into view, under a severe attack of croup. His tutor thus describes him : "I shall never forget the goodness, the affec |