and in 1839 Prince Albert made a tour in Italy, accompanied by Baron Stockmar, an old and faithful adherent of King Leopold and of the House of Coburg, and by the present Major-General Seymour. After Her Majesty's accession to the throne, King Leopold had, with her sanction, sounded his nephew, and, in his own words, he had “ "put the whole case honestly and kindly before him. He looks at the question from its most elevated and honorable point of view. He considers that troubles are inseparable from all human positionn, and that therefore, if we must be subject to plagues and annoyances, it is better to be so for some great and worthy object than for trifles and miseries." The Prince, however, declined to wait for two or three years, unless there was a positive engagement, on the ground that he would have wasted a valuable portion of his life if the Queen should, after all, change her intention. There was perhaps not another princely cadet of eighteen in Europe who would have calmly reflected on the plagues and annoyances which awaited a Prince Consort, or who would have hesitated to comply with any condition which might be attached to his marriage with the youthful Queen of England. The most interesting part of the story is the simplicity with which it is related, and the needless self-reproach which arises from the humility of loving recollec tions: "The Queen cannot now think without indignation against herself of her wish to keep the Prince waiting for probably three or four years, at the risk of ruining all his prospects for life, until she might feel inclined to marry! And the Prince has since told her that he came over in 1839 with the intention of telling her that, if she could not then make up her mind, she must understand that he could not now wait for a decision, as he had done at a former period when the marriage was first talked about. The only excuse the Queen can make for herself is in the fact that the sudden change from the secluded life at Kensington to her independent position as Queen Regnant, at the age of eighteen, put all ideas of marriage out of her mind, which she now most bitterly repents. A worse school for a young girl, or one more detrimental to all natural feelings and affections, cannot well be imagined than the position of a Queen at eighteen, without experience, and without a husband to guide and support her. This the Queen can state from painful experience, and she thanks God that none of her dear daughters are exposed to such danger." So candid a confession has never before been made by one so highly placed, and it seems almost disrespectful to add the comment, that in this case natural feelings and affections have survived, in their purest and strongest form, the severe trial of the most exceptional of all positions. As the Queen and the Prince were but twenty years old at the date of the marriage, a previous delay of six months might seem to others not to have been a sufficient cause for subsequent regret. It became unnecessary for Prince Albert to announce the resolution which he had formed, for on the 15th of October, 1839, a few days after his arrival at Windsor, the Queen told him that she had made up her mind, and the Prince received her offer with the warmest demonstrations of affection. "I told him it was a great sacrifice on his part, but he would not allow it. . . . I then told him to fetch Ernest, which he did, who congratulated us both and seemed very happy. . . . . He told me how perfect his brother was." In a letter written on the same day to Baron Stockmar, Prince Albert quotes the description of the lover's feelings in Schiller's Song of the Bell-"The eye sees heaven open, and the heart swims in happiness." It is not often that such an idyl can be enacted on a throne. The happy beginning was followed by a life of cloudless sunshine, only terminated by the Prince's death. King Lecpold had before told the Queen that she could not exist without a happy home, and her fatherly friend and adviser, Lord Melbourne, said, when she announced her intention, "You will be much more comfortable; for a woman cannot stand alone for any time, in whatever position she may be." "Alas! alas!" she exclaims, "the poor Queen now stands in that painful position." The course of true love had run wonderfully smooth; but even the serene air of royalty was at first disturbed by some passing clouds. In 1840 political feeling was running high, and the Government majority in the House of Commons was every day declining. In the previous May, Lord Melbourne, after resigning, had returned to office on the Queen's refusal to part, at the demand of Sir Robert Peel, with the ladies of her househeld. Her Majesty's generous admission that she was then a strong partisan of the Whigs fully justifies Sir Robert Peel's decision in the crisis which was known at the time as the "Bedchamber Plot." The sagacious leader of the Opposition, perhaps, may have scarcely regretted the brief postponeIment of his inevitable accession to power; but it was unfortunate that the irritation which then existed between the two parties should have led to an untoward circumstance which caused the Queen great and natural annoyance. Lord Melbourne proposed a grant of £50,000 a year to Prince Albert, with out consulting Sir Robert Peel and the Duke of Wellington, and he had the mortification of being defeated on an amendment, moved by Colonel Sibthorp, to substitute the sum of £30,000. Lord John Russell attempted to turn the occurrence to the benefit of his party by attributing to the supporters of the smaller grant a want of loyalty to the Queen. Sir Robert Peel and his principal followers of course repudiated the imputation, and Prince Albert soon discovered for himself that the opposition to the proposed income and to the precedence which the Queen wished to secure for her Consort by Act of Parliament did not proceed (at least in the leaders of the Conservative party) either from want of respect and good-will toward himself, or of loyalty toward the Queen." Lord Melbourne's large and noble nature raised him above the vulgarity of factious intrigue, and he supported Prince Albert in pressing upon the Queen the determination to stand aloof from political parties. "He told the Prince that he thought the time was come when Her Majesty 'should have a general amnesty for the Tories,' and on being spoken to by the Queen, to whom the Prince had reported what he had said, he repeated that such was his opinion." On another occasion, "the Queen records that Lord Melbourne, speaking of the Prince, said, looking at him with tears in his eyes, "There is an amazing feeling for him; there is a very favorable impression of him; every one likes him,' and then, "speaking of the Tories, against whom 66 the Queen was very irate, Lord Melbourne said, 'You should now hold out the olive branch a little.'" Lord Melbourne's unselfish regard for the public interest coincided with his genuine affection for the Queen. It is well known that on his retirement from office he thoughtfully communicated to his successful rival all the suggestions which he thought likely to facilitate the communications of the new Government with the Queen. It is much to be regretted that none of Lord Melbourne's surviving friends have preserved in detail for future generations the memory of a Minister who possessed more fully than any other statesman of his time the lofty and kindly temperament of genius. The Queen had another wise friend and adviser in her uncle, King Leopold, who contributed to the present volume a valuable sketch of his own eventful life, and of the history of the Coburg family. At the Congress of Erfurt Prince Leopold saw much of Napoleon, who wished to engage him in his service, and before he was of age he negotiated an advantageous treaty between Coburg and Bavaria. In 1813 he joined the Russian army, and he commanded the cavalry in the battle in which Vandamme was routed and taken prisoner. He afterward accompanied the Emperor Alexander to England, where he won the affection of the Princess Charlotte. Writing in old age, with his children grown up around him, King Leopold declares that he never recovered the feeling of happiness which had blessed his short married life with the Princess Charlotte. Some years later he paid a visit to his wife's mother during her trial, and he says that George IV. never forgave him. The levity, however, of the king's character is curiously illustrated by a subsequent anecdote. "He, of course declared that he would never see the Prince again. However, the Duke of York arranged an interview. The king could not resist his curiosity, and got Prince Leopold to tell him how Queen Caroline was dressed, and all sorts of details. In 1829 Prince Leopold declined the throne of Greece in consequence of Lord Aberdeen's refusal to adopt the frontier which was two years afterward actually settled by the Conference. Prince Leo pold had also urged the annexation of Crete to the new kingdom, but the English Government opposed the suggestion, and it seems that he would have accepted the dominions which were finally entrusted to the feeble hands of Otho. "The Queen well remembers her joy when this took place, as she adored her uncle, and was in despair at the thought of his departure for Greece." The latter portion of the biography of Prince Albert, which is entrusted to the competent hands of Mr. Theodore Martin, will be a more important contribution to history than the memoir of his early youth; but some of the more personal characteristics of his public career have been anticipated in the present volume by the Queen's affectionate zeal. Her Majesty's object in recording the admirable qualities of the Prince will have been fully attained, and she will also command for herself a sympathy which may perhaps soothe her feelings, the more because it will be intimately associated with appreciation of her husband's character. St. James's Magazine. THE LADY OF EISENACH. In a beautiful part of Germany, and far from the banks of the Rhine, the old castle of Eisenach was situated, which had been in the family of the Count of Hegel for many generations. It had deseended from father to son in unbroken succession; and gloomy as the old walls appeared from the valley beneath, the open-handed hospitality of its owners, and the merry voices of the children who played around its hearth in winter, or in summer on the green lawns which surrounded it, imparted to it a cheerfulness that was never wanting to those who resided there. It was a prevailing belief in the neighborhood that an heir would never be wanting to that ancient house; but at the time of which we are speaking the old tradition was at fault, and one girl was the only child of the then reigning.count. Not far from Eisenach, Baron Steinhuber resided upon his in former times had been a very sore property, which subject to the owners of Eisenach, who bitterly resented the purchase, which had been made by the Baron's grandfather, of a tract of country which ought to have belonged to the Counts of Hegel. The feud which had existed between the two families had now almost died out, and when the Baroness Steinhuber expired in giving birth to a son, the then reigning Countess of Hegel almost adopted the young baron, whose lonely condition she commiserated, his father having died only a few months before his birth. Baron Steinhuber, who had been always welcome at Eisenach, never married; and when Frederick Hegel became the Count of Hegel and Lord of Eisenach, he absented himself from it altogether, and lived a most secluded life. The young Countess Louise was the idol of her parents, who devoted themselves to her; and Alfred Reiner, an orphan nephew of the Count's, who was brought up at Eisenach, was her constant companion. When he was about fifteen, Count Alfred Reiner was sent to college to finish his education, and this was the first grief to cast a shadow over Louise's happy childhood; but the delight of meeting in the holidays almost compensated for the pain of parting. ever, ripen into love; and when, after This cousinly affection did not, hownephew must not waste his youth by a time, Count Högel determined that his remaining longer at Eisenach, and insisted upon his entering the army, though Louise showed that she missed her companion, it was quite evident to her moth er that no deeper passion had taken hold of her. At this time some law business in which they were mutually concerned brought Count Hegel and Baron Steinhuber together, and the old friends were glad to renew their friendship and talk over past times, when they used to roam Eisenach. The Baron was an agreeable together over the woods and plains of and highly-educated man. His time had not been passed in idleness; and notwithstanding the disparity in their years, Louise seemed to take an interest in his society, and to delight in his conversation. The Baron invariably treated her with the utmost deference, and the Countinterested in the society of so superior ess Högel was glad to find her daughter a person; especially as she had noticed from Louise's listless manner that she missed the companionship of her cousin, and was on that account indisposed to take her wonted exercise. Louise was perhaps flattered, as the young often are, by the attention of one so much her senior; and when the Baron begged the Count and Countess Hegel to pay him a visit, Louise caught at the idea with gladness. Her mother having observed the Baron's devoted attention to Louise, spoke to her on the subject; but all her remarks were received with raillery and incredulity, for Louise either could not or would not believe that the Baron could think of her otherwise than as a child. The report of an intended visit from Alfred Reiner, brought matters to a more speedy termination than could have been expected. The Baron viewed Alfred Reiner's return with some alarm, and sought an interview with Louise, with whom he pleaded earnestly that she would consent to be his wife, after he had clearly ascertained from her that she had not bestowed her affection upon her young cousin. Louise did not give a decided answer, and begged for some delay, on the plea that she could not bear the idea of being separated from her parents. But after a time, as Louise saw the satisfaction with which they viewed the possibility of her union with the Baron, she yielded, and rejoiced that it was in her power to contribute to the happiness of those she loved so fondly. As soon as Count Alfred Reiner arrived, the news of Louise's projected marriage was broken to him by Count Hegel. He was incredulous,-would not believe that Louise had not been unduly biassed; but at her father's request, he never said a word that could tend to alter her resolution, and merely spoke of it with the interest he must naturally feel in the welfare of one with whom he had been brought up; and when it became certain that it was her own wish to marry Baron Steinhuber, he never made any further allusion to the subject, and left Eisenach after a sojourn of only a few days. Louise remonstrated with him for leaving them so abruptly, but he only replied that they should meet before long in Vienna. "Oh no," she replied; "I never mean to leave Eisenach." Alfred smiled incredulously, and persisted in his conviction that before two years had expired they would meet in Vienna. After a few weeks, Louise became the wife of Baron Steinhuber. Her mother watched her carefully and anxiously, and saw that she was perfectly contented with her lot. Her new domain, her dependants, her garden, the various improvements which the Baron was continually making, and about which he always consulted her, were a source of never-failing interest. Besides which, scarcely a day passed without a visit to Eisenach, especially as her mother's health became an ever-increasing anxiety, as it was plainly perceptible that the Countess Hegel would never see another summer. At length, after much suffering, she gradually sank, and when all was over, the violence of Louise's grief was so intense and overpowering that it alarmed both her father and her husband. When this subsided, it was succeeded by a despondeney and gloom from which it seemed impossible to rouse her. She had lost the great occupation of her life, the brightness had suddenly dropped out of it, and change of scene was pronounced to be absolutely necessary. In spite of Louise's remonstrance, the early spring found them installed in a splendid house in Vienna. Count Hegel was ordered to some baths in Hungary, and, for the first time for many years, Eisenach was deserted. Some months elapsed, and change of scene, society, and amusement, produced their natural effect upon Louise. She was admired, courted, and popular. Her cousin, Alfred Reiner, was a continual visitor at the house, and became Louise's constant companion in the gay world, as the Baron disliked society. Two years thus passed away, with occasional short visits to the country; for since his wife's death, Count Högel never could make up his mind to live at Eisenach. After a lingering illness of some weeks, Count Hegel died at his daughter's house in Vienna, where Louise had persuaded him to come for medical advice. Deeply attached as she was to her father, his death did not affect her in the same way that her mother's had done; nor did it cause the same blank in her life, as circum stances had separated them so much of late. By his death, she became the sole inheritrix of the broad lands of Eisenach, a splendid dowry; but much as she loved it, she could not make up her mind to live there. Changed and desolate as it must appear to her now, her husband, too, began to show signs of age, and disliked the trouble of moving about. This, combined with a growing taste for the stir and amusement of a town life, kept them mostly in Vienna. It was at this time that the first cloud that ever darkened Louise's married life appeared. Small, in truth, at first, it slowly and steadily increased. This was the change that she perceived in her husband's manner toward her. He was still kind, still considerate; but he seemed constantly dissatisfied, and would sink into long fits of abstraction and melancholy, and avoid her society as much as possible. At first Louise could not believe that her husband's heart could possibly be changed toward her, and imagined herself fanciful; but, by degrees, she became convinced of the truth of her suspicions. Deeply concerned, as she was sincerely attached to him, she consulted Alfred about it, for whom the Baron had of late conceived a great liking. Her cousin assured her that he had not detected any change in their outward relations, but advised her to speak to her husband, and ask if she had in any way annoyed him. A trifling incident brought matters to a crisis. One evening she came down dressed for a ball which was to be given in honor of some royal personage. "So you are going out again?" the Baron said, harshly. Louise was naturally timid; any coldness chilled and depressed her. "There is a ball at Madame de C- 's; but I have no wish to go if you had rather I did not. In fact, I should prefer to stay at home with you, if you will let me. "Certainly not," he replied quickly; "old age is intended to be lonely. I do not complain," and he resumed his book, and did not look up again. Louise appeared grieved, and stood undecided for a few minutes; then, returning to her room, she took off her jewels and ball dress, and glided gently back into her accustomed place. The Baron did not appear to see her, and she occupied herself with her embroid ery. At last he closed his book, and, rising from his seat, said: "Louise, why have you done this? Am I a tyrant? God knows my one wish has been that you should be happy." "And I have been quite happy," she answered, as tears streamed down her face. "My sorrow only arises from thinking that, in some way to me unknown, I displease you. If you would only tell me what it is, it should never happen again." "I dare say not," he rejoined, bitterly. "Slaves obey their masters. If the affection I once hoped for subsisted between us, you would not make my life miserable without knowing the cause." "Rudolph," she exclaimed, throwing herself at his feet, "what can you mean; I implore you, I beseech you to tell me. Some one has poisoned your mind against me. Oh! if it had but pleased God to give us a child, you would then have been content." "It is not that, Louise," he said, relenting as he saw her evident grief; that, as you say, is as God wills. He would give us children if it were for our good. I do not complain. I am far happier than I have any right to expect." Here their conversation was interrupted by the hasty entrance of Alfred Reiner, who had expected to meet Louise at the ball; and as no one could give him any tidings of her, but, on the contrary, he was himself beset with inquiries as to the possible cause of her absence from such an unusually brilliant fete, he had come to inquire if she were ill, or anything unwonted the matter. Louise felt very much annoyed at this intrusive visit, but determined to seek a further explanation as soon as possible. Alfred, surprised at his cousin's evident agitation, but with too much tact to appear to see it, retreated as quickly as he could, wondering greatly at what could be the real reason of Louise's absence from the ball. The next day, before she had had an opportunity of seeing her husband alone, he sent for her to come to him, and then said: "Louise, I have been reflecting upon |