Visits were likewise paid to the seat of the Duke of Devonshire, at Chiswick, and to the Opera; and the Emperor seems to have been really much pleased by his reception. There can be no doubt that he had a political object in coming to England. Turkey was engaging much of his attention, as it had done in earlier years, and he was deeply desirous of carrying out the traditional policy of Russia, as it had been formulated from the days of Peter the Great. He saw that Turkey was in an impoverished and weakened state, partly in consequence of his own acts, and those of his predecessors; and he thought the time had come when some approach should be made towards an understanding with England as to what should be done with the Sultan’s inheritance when he could no longer hold it for himself. With this view, he talked a good deal with Prince Albert, Sir Robert Peel, and Lord Aberdeen. His desire to propitiate the good opinion of the English Government and people was most evident; but the events of later years showed but too plainly with what objects he pursued these conciliatory efforts. The cordial relations which had long existed between England and France were viewed by Nicholas with great distrust and jealousy; for he feared—what, in fact, afterwards occurred—that the two Powers might combine to restrain his ambition in the East. He wished to break up the good feeling between England and France, but met with no encouragement in this respect from Sir Robert Peel. He said that he did not covet an inch of Turkish soil for himself, but that he would not allow anybody else to have one. This, of course, was spoken with reference to France, who had undoubtedly, a few years before, shown a disposition to establish herself in Syria and Egypt. Sir Robert Peel replied by answering that no Government should be created in Egypt too powerful to close the passage across that country to the commerce or the mails of England.

The conversation with the English Premier and Minister for Foreign Affairs took the ultimate form of a Memorandum drawn up by Count Nesselrode by order of the Emperor after his return to St. Petersburg. Being transmitted to England, this document was deposited in the secret archives of the Foreign Office, but made public some ten years later, at the period of the Crimean War. “Russia and England,” said the Memorandum, “are mutually penetrated with the conviction that it is for their common interest that the Ottoman Porte should maintain itself in the state of independence and of territorial possession which at present constitutes that Empire, as that political combination is the one which is most compatible with the general interest of the maintenance of peace. Being agreed on this principle, Russia and England have an equal interest in uniting their efforts in order to keep up the Ottoman Empire, and to avert all the dangers which can place in jeopardy its safety.” The Memorandum then went on to observe that the Porte had a constant tendency to extricate itself from engagements imposed upon it by treaties concluded with other Powers; that it hoped to do so with impunity, because it reckoned upon the mutual jealousy of the Cabinets; that, when coming into collision with any one of the Powers on this account, it relied on the others to espouse its quarrel; that it was essential not to confirm the Porte in this delusion; and that every time it failed in its obligations towards one of the Great Powers, it was the interest of all the rest to bring their influence to bear upon the offender. “The object for which Russia and England will have to come to an understanding,” the Memorandum went on to say, “may be expressed in the following manner:—(1) To seek to maintain the existence of the Ottoman Empire in its present state, so long as that political combination shall be possible. (2) If we foresee that it must crumble to pieces, to enter into previous concert as to everything relating to the establishment of a new order of things, intended to replace that which now exists, and, in conjunction with each other, to see that the change which may have occurred in the internal situation of that Empire shall not injuriously affect either the security of their own States, and the rights which the treaties assure to them respectively, or the maintenance of the balance of power in Europe.” The Emperor declared that Russia and Austria were agreed as to this policy, and that, if England, as the principal maritime Power, would act in concert with them, France would in all probability be obliged to follow the same course, and thus the peace of Europe would be maintained. The fixed intention of Russia, to take the earliest opportunity of making a combined attack upon Turkey, is glaringly apparent throughout this document; and it is little to the credit of Sir Robert Peel and Lord Aberdeen that they should have given any sanction whatever to such a project. The Memorandum of 1844 enabled the Russian Emperor, in 1854, to allege a common understanding with England, in defence of his designs against Turkey. The Earl of Aberdeen was probably the moving spirit in the matter, so far as Great Britain was concerned; and it is one of many proofs that that Minister had far too kindly a regard for the interests of the Northern Power.

Nicholas quitted London on the 9th of June, after producing a very good impression on the ladies and gentlemen of the Court by his magnificent presents of jewels to the former, and, as regarded the latter, by the gift of a very valuable cup, to be annually run for at Ascot, which he had visited twice during his brief stay. Whether he produced an equally good impression on the mass of the English people, is a very doubtful matter. It was said at the time that he was hissed on one occasion, when driving out with the Queen; and it is probable that such was the fact. He was disliked as a despot; his conduct towards Poland was viewed with detestation; and that he had designs on India, was suspected and believed by many. But his reception at the English Court was sufficiently warm to create a feeling of irritation on the part of the French, who inferred—not altogether without reason—that some secret arrangement had been made to the prejudice of their interests. It was feared for a time that this sentiment would have the effect of setting aside a visit to England which had been contemplated by Louis Philippe since the visit of the Queen and Prince Albert to that monarch in the previous year. Alluding to the fear that this compliment might not be paid, in consequence of what had happened with the Emperor, her Majesty, in writing to King Leopold, says:—“I hope that you will persuade the King (Louis Philippe) to come all the same in September. Our motives and politics are, not to be exclusive, but to be on good terms with all—and why should we not? We make no secret of it.” The King of Saxony left England on the 19th of June, and the Court now returned to its usual and somewhat quiet routine.

Parliament had been opened by the Queen in person on the 1st of February, and all had gone on fairly well for some months. The financial policy of Sir Robert Peel had led to admirable results, and at the close of the year ending the 5th of April, 1844, the Chancellor of the Exchequer announced a surplus of £4,165,000, which, after deducting what was required to pay off the deficiency of the previous year, left a balance of £1,400,000. It might have been supposed that all political parties would have been equally pleased with so fortunate a condition; but many amongst the supporters of Sir Robert Peel himself were dissatisfied with what had been done, because it was effected in despite of their own Protectionist views. On the 14th of June, accordingly, they voted in force against the resolutions proposed by the Government upon the Sugar Duties. An amendment to those resolutions was brought forward, and, on a division,

Ministers found themselves in a minority of twenty in a House of 462. The Premier and his principal colleagues were disposed to resign at once; but at a large meeting of Conservatives, held on the 17th of June, so much confidence in the Government was expressed, that Peel hesitated in his intention, and, on the evening of the same day, a vote in Committee reversed the decision of the 14th. The Prime Minister had clearly intimated that, unless such a reversal was obtained, he should resign office; and the threat had doubtless operated on many who delighted to embarrass the Ministry, but did not wish to see it upset.

Another disagreeable circumstance occurred at the same time. On the 14th of June, Mr. Thomas Duncombe presented to the House of Commons a petition from the Italian revolutionist, Signor Mazzini, and three others, complaining that during the past month a number of their letters, passing through the General Post Office—letters, they averred, written for no political purpose, and containing no treasonable or libellous matter—had been regularly detained and opened. The circumstance led to great excitement at the time, and many not belonging to the extreme order of politicians condemned the Home Secretary, Sir James Graham, for the course he had adopted. Mr. Carlyle wrote to the

Times, setting forth that he had known Signor Mazzini for several years, and that he considered him “a man of genius and virtue, a man of sterling veracity, humanity, and nobleness of mind;” moreover, that opening a man’s letters was nearly akin to picking his pockets, and even to still viler forms of scoundrelism. The writer, however, admitted that letters might be opened if a Gunpowder Plot were imminent, or some national wreck were not far off; but he would on no account sanction the practice until those conditions had been fulfilled. Now, the plain truth of the matter appears to have been this—that Signor Mazzini had taken advantage of his place of refuge in England to conspire with divers Republicans in Italy for the destruction of Austrian and Papal despotism, in that peninsula. The intentions of these persons may have been admirable, and certainly the annihilation of the tyrannies against which they conspired was highly desirable, in the interests both of Italy and the whole world. But it is not proper for any Government to allow foreigners living under its protection to conspire against other States with which the protecting country is at peace. Sir James Graham had reason to believe that Mazzini was occupied in doing this very thing, and he showed conclusively that the Secretary of State had been invested by Parliament with the power, in certain cases, of issuing warrants, by virtue of which letters might be opened. Some former Home Secretaries declared that they had used this power, and the case began to assume another aspect. A Secret Committee of the two Houses, however, was appointed to inquire into the law and practice of opening private letters at the Post Office. The Report of this Committee showed that the annual average of warrants, at no time very high, had in recent years decreased rather than augmented, and that Sir James Graham had been particularly conscientious in the exercise of his right; and the outcry soon died away.

Difficulties with France occurred during the year 1844, which were doubtless aggravated by the irritable state of French opinion consequent on the apprehension that England was intriguing with Russia against the interests of France in the East. The island of Otaheite, or Tahiti, situated in the South Pacific Ocean, had for the last two years been a subject of contention between France and England. The territory was visited by Commodore Byron in 1765, and two years later by Captain Wallis, who called it George III. Island. It was explored by Captain Cook in 1768 and two subsequent years. In 1799 the district of Matavai was ceded to some English missionaries; so that, as far as European Powers were concerned, the island seems to have belonged more to England than to any other country. But, on the 9th of September, 1842, Queen Pomare was compelled to put herself under the protection of France. She soon afterwards retracted her enforced consent, and Tahiti, together with the neighbouring islands, was then seized by Admiral Dupetit Thouars in the name of the French King. The natives of Tahiti, as of the Society Islands generally, had shown considerable readiness to adopt the ways of civilisation, and the Protestant missionaries sent out by England had effected a considerable improvement in their habits. After a time, certain Roman Catholic missionaries made their appearance in the island, and endeavoured to interfere with that part of the population which had already been converted by the Protestants. Quarrels very naturally ensued, and France interposed on behalf of her fellow-believers. Such was the origin of the disagreements between France and England with respect to Tahiti. Public feeling in both countries was greatly inflamed; but the French Government, in deference to English remonstrances, represented that they would be satisfied with simply exercising a Protectorate over the island. The opposition in the French Chambers characterised this concession as an act of gratuitous humiliation for their country, and it was feared that war would ensue.

This was rendered all the more probable in the early part of 1844, when, on the 2nd of March, a French sentinel was disarmed by the natives. The French Commandant chose to consider the English missionary and Consul, Mr. Pritchard, the instigator of this act, and he caused him to be at once arrested, and thrown into prison. “His property,” wrote the Commandant (D’Aubigny), in an excited proclamation, “shall be answerable for all damage occasioned to our establishments by the insurgents; and if French blood is spilt, every drop shall recoil on his head.” Pritchard was afterwards released from prison, but expelled the island, and, on arriving in England, created a ferment of public indignation on the subject of his wrongs. The Government of Sir Robert Peel demanded satisfaction of France for the gross outrage which had been committed on a British subject; and both the King and M. Guizot were willing that this should be done. But it is no easy matter to be simply just on such an occasion. Every Government must take some account of the sentiment existing amongst its population, and France just then was in a state of fiery wrath against England. Nevertheless, the matter was arranged after an interval of some months. On the last day of the session (September 5th) Sir Robert Peel announced that the French Ministry had agreed to compensate Pritchard for his sufferings and losses. Queen Pomare was allowed, as a matter of form, to enjoy the Royal dignity; but the French were the actual masters of the island. The termination of the affair was not altogether satisfactory, for Queen Pomare had long been our faithful ally, and, when coerced by the French, had written a touching letter to the English Queen, in which she said, “Do not cast me away, my friend. I run to you for refuge, to be covered under your great shadow; the same that afforded relief to my fathers by your fathers, who are now dead, and whose kingdoms have descended to us, the weaker vessels.” To have taken up the cause of Queen Pomare, however, would in all probability have led to hostilities between England and France; and Queen Victoria, therefore, could do nothing for the assistance of this poor barbarian.

Before the settlement of this burning question, her Majesty had, on the 6th of August, given birth to a second son at Windsor Castle. The Royal child was afterwards christened Alfred, but is better known to the present generation as the Duke of Edinburgh. Writing to King Leopold shortly after her confinement, the Queen said:—“The only thing, almost, to mar our happiness is the heavy and threatening cloud which hangs over our relations with France, and which, I assure you, distresses and alarms us sadly. The whole nation here are very angry.... God grant all may come right, and I am still of good cheer; but the French keep us constantly in hot water.” On the 27th of August her Majesty again wrote to the Belgian sovereign:—“The impending political cloud, I hope, looks less black and lowering. But I think it very unwise in Guizot not to have at once discovered D’Aubigny for what you yourself call an ‘outrage,’ instead of allowing it to drag on for four weeks, and letting our people get excited.” After the matter had been settled, the Queen remarked that they must try to prevent such difficulties in the future;

but this, unfortunately, is impossible while nations are so apt to set up a false standard of honour in the place of justice.

One of the pacific successes of the Peel Administration was the conclusion of the Ashburton Treaty with the Government of the United States. A good deal of mutual irritation had existed for several years, owing to the absence of a distinct and undisputed boundary between Canada and the State of Maine. The matter had at one time been referred to the arbitration of the King of the Netherlands; but neither party would accept his award. Sir Robert Peel, therefore, sent out a special negotiator in the person of Lord Ashburton, a member of the great commercial family of the Barings. The American representative was the Secretary of State, Mr. Webster—a man of the highest ability, both as an orator and a statesman; and, after much discussion, a treaty was signed at Washington on the 9th of August, 1842. The boundary thus established was said to give England a better military frontier than she had

possessed before, and it certainly included some heights commanding the St. Lawrence which had not been assigned to us by the King of the Netherlands. The conclusion of this treaty was announced to Parliament at the opening of the session of 1843, and Sir Robert Peel claimed credit for having brought about so favourable an adjustment. This, however, was not the view entertained by the Opposition; and Lord Palmerston, in calling the attention of the House of Commons to the treaty, on the 21st of March, 1843, described it as “the Ashburton capitulation.” Undoubtedly, the larger part of the disputed territory was handed over to the United States, and it has since been generally considered by Englishmen that Mr. Webster demanded and obtained more than his country was entitled to. Some other clauses of the treaty were excellent. Provision was made for the better suppression of the slave traffic, and it was agreed that each country should render up to the other certain classes of criminals against whom a sufficient case should be established by due legal process. Lord Palmerston could never tolerate the Ashburton Treaty so far as the territorial rearrangement was concerned. He thought it would be productive of many evil consequences; but it was high time that a vexatious question, creating a certain amount of ill-will, should be brought to a final settlement. The Ashburton Treaty was perhaps the best that could be effected, and Englishmen have long ceased to consider its details.

CHAPTER X.

DAYS OF PEACEFUL DEVELOPMENT AND PROGRESS.

While the Queen and Prince Albert were contemplating, in the late summer of 1844, a second tour in Scotland, they received a visit at Windsor from one who afterwards became illustrious on the stage of European history, as the German Emperor. The Prince of Prussia, brother of the reigning King, arrived at the Castle on the 31st of August, and was described by the Queen as amiable, sensible, amusing, and frank. Her Majesty thought he would make a steadier and safer King than his brother, and it cannot be doubted but that his reign was actually more successful and more distinguished. The Prince was at that time forty-seven years of age. As a youth, he had taken part in the campaigns against France in 1813, 1814, and 1815, and was then holding the post of Governor of Pomerania. He was therefore, even in 1844, a man of some experience in affairs, and he showed no little penetration in discriminating between the adaptability of the British Constitution to the needs of the British people as those needs were then, and its fitness for Continental nations, where the surroundings are wholly different. His visit to England was short, but, before he left, he attended, in the Private Chapel at Windsor Castle, on the 6th of September, the christening of the infant Prince, to whom were given the names of Alfred Ernest Albert. The sponsors on this occasion were Prince George of Cambridge, represented by his father, the Duke of Cambridge; the Prince of Leiningen, represented by the Duke of Wellington; and H.R.H. the Duchess of Saxe Coburg and Gotha, represented by H.R.H. the Duchess of Kent. The scene in the chapel was very solemn, and the Queen records its effect on her in a few heartfelt words preserved in her Journal.

It had been the intention of her Majesty to visit Ireland in the autumn of 1844; but the excitement in that country, consequent on the Repeal agitation, the trial of O’Connell, and the subsequent release of the agitator, made it imprudent for the sovereign and her consort to trust themselves in the sister island. They accordingly fell back on another Scottish tour, the remembrance of the earlier one having induced in both a strong desire to repeat so agreeable an experience. The Royal party started on the 9th of September, and sailed from Woolwich in the yacht Victoria and Albert. On the 11th, they entered the Frith of Tay, and landed at Dundee. From this place they advanced in a north-westerly direction into the Highlands, where they took up their residence at Blair Castle, Blair Athole, the seat of Lord Glenlyon (afterwards the Duke of Athole), who placed his house and grounds at the disposal of her Majesty. The road thither is exceedingly picturesque, with high hills and deep woods, and part of it led through the Pass of Killiecrankie, the beauty of which drew forth warm praises from Prince Albert. All around the scenery is of the most magnificent description, and the wildness of the prospects, the purity of the air, and the softness of the sunshine, not only gave the deepest delight to the Royal visitors, but had a beneficial influence on their health. They got up early in the morning, and therefore had full enjoyment of the best part of the day. One morning, a lady, plainly dressed, issued from the gates of Blair Athole, and passed the Highland guard without being noticed. When it was discovered that this lady was the Queen, a party of Highlanders turned out as a bodyguard, but were told that their services were not required. Her Majesty then passed on to the lodge, where Lord and Lady Glenlyon were dwelling for the time. She was informed that his Lordship was not yet up, and the servant was much astonished to hear who the early visitor was. On her return the Queen lost her way, and was directed by some reapers which path she should take to reach Blair Castle. In the after-part of the same day her Majesty and the Prince went on an excursion with Lord Glenlyon. Writing to the Dowager Duchess of Coburg on the 22nd of September, Prince Albert says:—“We are all well, and live a somewhat primitive, yet romantic, mountain life, that acts as a tonic to the nerves, and gladdens the heart of a lover, like myself, of field-sports and of Nature.” And the Queen says in her Diary that, “independently of the beautiful scenery, there was a quiet, a retirement, a wildness, a liberty, and a solitude,” about their surroundings, which possessed an exquisite charm for both. The Royal party left Blair Castle on the 1st of October, and were again at Windsor on the 3rd.

Three days later the King of the French landed at Portsmouth. Many of the French newspapers were strongly opposed to his coming, on account of the Tahiti affair, in which it was considered by extreme politicians that France had been injured and outwitted by England. But Louis Philippe and M. Guizot determined that the visit should take place, as the most likely way of restoring the good relations of the two countries. At Portsmouth, the King was received by the naval authorities of the place, and, before landing, the Mayor and Corporation presented him with an address, in answer to which he said:—“I have not forgotten the many kindnesses I have received from your countrymen during my residence among you many years since. At that period, I was frequently pained at the existence of differences and feuds between our countries. I assure you, gentlemen, I shall endeavour at all times to prevent a repetition of those feelings and that conduct, believing, as I do most sincerely, that the happiness and prosperity of a nation depend quite as much on the peace of those nations by which it is surrounded as on quiet within its own dominions.” The Duke of Wellington went with Prince Albert to receive the King on his arrival, and accompanied him to Windsor Castle. Louis Philippe was much moved at his reception by the Queen, and his hand shook somewhat as he alighted from his carriage. He was the first French sovereign who had ever come on a visit to the monarch of Great Britain; so that the occasion was a very memorable one. It must in fairness be acknowledged that the King of the Barricades, as he used to be called, entertained a friendly feeling towards England, where he had spent some of his early days of exile, so that he was sincerely desirous of preserving peace between the two dominions. He delighted to visit all his old haunts in the neighbourhood of Twickenham and Claremont. His conversation was very sprightly, and he recalled the old revolutionary days when, being compelled to seek refuge in the Grisons, under the name of Chabot, he acted as teacher in a school, where he received twenty pence a day, and had to brush his own shoes.

Wherever he went, the reception of the French King was much more hearty than that of the Emperor of Russia a few months before, and he was enchanted with all he saw and heard. On the 9th of October he was invested by her Majesty with the Order of the Garter, and on the 12th received the Corporation of the City of London, who journeyed down to Windsor to pay their respects. The King left England on the 13th. His original intention was to return, as he had come, by way of Portsmouth; but, on his arrival at that harbour on the 12th, accompanied by the Queen and Prince Albert, the weather proved too rough for so long a passage, and Louis Philippe therefore travelled up to London, and on the following day crossed from Dover to Calais. The French Admiral and his officers, who were to have conveyed the King back to Tréport, were much vexed at being disappointed of that honour; and, as

some kind of compensation, the Queen and Prince Albert breakfasted next morning on board the frigate which had brought Louis Philippe over. Her Majesty excited the highest enthusiasm of the French officers by proposing and drinking the King’s health. There had in fact been much interchange of courtesies between the French visitors and the English officers stationed at Portsmouth; but it may be questioned whether these mutual compliments did not sometimes a little transgress the limits of sincerity. The Earl of Malmesbury is probably not far wrong when he records in his Memoirs:—“The officers of the French fleet have met with a most enthusiastic reception at Portsmouth. The English officers gave them a ball and a dinner; healths were drunk, and speeches made, and an immense quantity of humbug exchanged; but the French like that, so I hope it will put them in good humour.” The worst of these receptions is, that, although they may be sincere up to a certain point, they have a tendency to run into extravagance, and may thus provoke a reaction at some future date.

Before the end of the same month the Queen was engaged in a domestic ceremony of great interest to the citizens of London, and to many others far beyond the limits of the capital. The old Royal Exchange, the successor to Sir Thomas Gresham’s original building, destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666, was consumed in a conflagration which broke out on the 10th of January, 1838. The new building—that which now stands—was erected from the designs of Mr. William Tite, and opened by her Majesty in person on the 28th of October, 1844. The procession left Buckingham Palace at eleven o’clock A.M., and passed through streets gaily decorated for the occasion. Her Majesty’s carriage was drawn by eight cream-coloured horses, and the chief occupant wore a tiara of diamonds and a white ermine mantle. On alighting at the Exchange, the Queen and Prince Albert, preceded by the Lord Mayor with his Sword of State, went over the building, and finally entered the Reading Room. Here, seated on a throne, her Majesty received the address which had been prepared by the City authorities, and which was read by the Recorder. Allusion was made in it to the fact that the first building had been opened by Queen Elizabeth, and a hope was expressed that the new edifice would endure for ages, a memorial and monument of the commercial grandeur, the prosperity, and the peaceful triumphs of Victoria’s reign.

After reading her reply, the Queen intimated to the Lord Mayor (Alderman Magnay) her intention to confer on him the dignity of a baronet. A sumptuous luncheon was afterwards served in the Underwriters’ Room, and the proceedings of the day closed by the Queen announcing, after silence had been enjoined by the heralds, that it was her will and pleasure that the building should be thenceforth called “The Royal Exchange.” Her Majesty was greatly pleased by her reception, and wrote next day to King Leopold:—“Nothing ever went off better, and the procession there, as well as the proceedings at the Royal Exchange, were splendid and royal in the extreme. It was a fine and gratifying sight to see the myriads of people assembled, more than at the Coronation even, and all in such good humour, and so loyal.” To the same effect wrote Prince Albert to Baron Stockmar. “Here, after four years,” he observed, “is the recognition of the position we took up from the first. You always said that if Monarchy was to rise in popularity, it could only be by the sovereign leading an exemplary life, and keeping quite aloof from, and above, party. Melbourne called this ‘nonsense.’ Now, Victoria is praised by Lord Spencer, the Liberal, for giving her Constitutional support to the Tories.” On the 12th of November the Queen and Prince Albert paid a visit to Lord Exeter, at Burleigh, which they left on the 15th; and the year closed with an interchange of kindly feelings between the Prince and Baron Stockmar, whose friendship was then entering upon its sixth year.

Scientific discovery, or at any rate the practical application of scientific truths to the ordinary needs of life, had made considerable progress since the accession of Queen Victoria, and it may be convenient at this stage to review some of the principal changes thus effected. Electric Telegraph was probably of more importance than any other. The active powers of the electric “fluid” had been known for many years, and some of the greatest inquirers of modern times had anticipated extraordinary results from an agency so potent, and so various in its operations. The transmission of electricity by an insulated wire was shown by several experimenters as early as 1747, and in later years telegraphic arrangements were devised by scientific explorers, both English and foreign. But no very decided progress in the transmission of thought by electricity was effected until a short period before the death of William IV., when somewhat analogous plans were simultaneously conceived in England and America by Professor Wheatstone and Professor Morse. It has sometimes been a matter of contention as to whether the honour of this discovery should belong to the one or the other; but it may in truth be fairly divided between both. The first telegraphic line in England was set up by Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Cooke, on the Great Western Railway, between Paddington and West Drayton, in 1838-9. The first telegraphic line in America was not constructed until 1844. From those respective dates, the new means of intercommunication spread rapidly on both sides of the Atlantic, until, in these days, the whole civilised world is covered with a mesh of telegraphic lines, almost as wonderful in their operation as the web of nerves which, in the living animal, carry the conceptions of the brain through every part of the system, and the impression of the senses to the seat of reason. One of the earliest practical applications of the new telegraphic system, in a matter concerning the general interests of the public, occurred at the commencement of 1845. On the 1st of January a woman was murdered at Salt Hill, near Slough, and a certain Quaker with whom she had been intimate was suspected of the crime. The man made his way to Slough, and proceeded by train to London; but a telegraphic description of his appearance, and a statement of the reasons for his detention, had reached Paddington before the time of his arrival. A policeman was waiting on the platform, and the suspected person was closely watched and followed until it was considered prudent to arrest him. He was tried, found guilty, and executed; and Sir Francis Head, the well-known writer, records that while travelling on the same railway some time afterwards, he heard a third-class passenger, pointing to the telegraph lines, remark, “Them’s the cords that hanged John Tawell.”

Another great achievement of this period is the beautiful art of Photography. Some slight approach towards this mode of producing pictures was made as long ago as the sixteenth century, when the action of light on

chloride of silver was discovered. Further results were obtained during the eighteenth century, particularly by Thomas Wedgwood (son of the celebrated potter) and Sir Humphry Davy. Wedgwood was the author of a paper, published in 1802 in the Journal of the Royal Institution, which he entitled “An Account of a Method of Copying Paintings upon Glass, and of making Profiles by the Agency of Light upon Nitrate of Silver.” The art, however, made no great progress until it was taken up in France by M. Daguerre, who worked in concert with M. Joseph Nicéphore Niepce. The latter died in 1833, after several years’ association with M. Daguerre; but it was not until January, 1839, that the production of photographic plates was publicly announced by his partner. In the same year, Mr. Henry Fox Talbot published his mode of multiplying photographic impressions by producing in the first instance a negative photograph, from which any number of positive copies could be obtained. The earliest photographs were called Daguerreotypes and Talbotypes, after the French and English inventors; but in a few years both appellations were superseded by the Greek word photography—literally, a “light-writing,” though a “light-picture” would be the more proper description. The uses of photography have been manifold, and the satisfaction they have given in preserving the very reflex of the faces of our dead relations and cherished friends is doubtless the greatest triumph of all. Within a few months of his death, Prince Albert was deeply moved on receiving from his daughter, the Crown Princess of Prussia, a daguerreotype of his father. “How precious,” he writes to her on the 3rd of September, 1861, “is the daguerreotype! After seventeen years which have glided by since my dear father was taken away, all at once his shade has come before me—for such, in fact, it is.”[17]

To the early part of Queen Victoria’s reign must be referred some of the most practical applications of the gigantic telescope erected by the Earl of Rosse at Parsonstown, in Ireland. This wonderful instrument (which, however, has been much surpassed by later telescopes) was in active operation from 1828 to 1845. Its power was such as to exhibit the very rocks on this side of the moon, and our knowledge of that satellite—a barren, mournful sphere of extinguished vitality—was greatly increased by the scientific labours of Lord Rosse and his coadjutors. Returning to mundane matters, we must refer to the opening of the Thames Tunnel, which took place on the 25th of March, 1843. The shaft had been commenced, and the first brick laid, as far back as the 2nd of March, 1825; but the work was twice delayed by the irruption of water. This subway between Wapping and Rotherhithe was undoubtedly a splendid triumph of modern engineering, and reflected the highest credit on Mr. I. K. Brunel, who proposed and carried out the design. But the tunnel was not long popular, and, after the dissolution of the Company in 1866, the work was transferred to the East London Railway, by which it has since been used. The Queen and Prince Albert were much interested in the tunnel, and, in July, 1843, honoured it with a visit of inspection.

Arctic discovery made some important strides about this date. Sir John Franklin, accompanied by Captains Crozier and Fitzjames, sailed in the Erebus and Terror on his third Arctic Expedition, May 24th, 1845. From subsequent investigations, it appears that he discovered the North-west passage, having sailed down Peel and Victoria Straits (now called Franklin’s Straits) a few months after his arrival in those inhospitable regions. The Expedition, however, was fatal to the brave explorers. All England waited with anxiety for tidings of these adventurous men; but, after a few despatches, an appalling silence and mystery descended on the enterprise. Months passed away, and nothing more was heard of the Erebus and Terror. It was as if ships and men had been snatched away from the world; and the public could comfort itself only with vague hopes that, after all, the vessels and their crew would reappear at some unexpected corner of the earth. When the suspense became no longer bearable, expeditions were sent out in search of the missing voyagers, and coals, provisions, clothing, and other necessaries, were deposited at various points by the English and American Governments, by Lady Franklin, and by several private individuals. Some years later, wild rumours started up that Sir John Franklin and the gaunt remnant of his crew had been seen at this place and at that; but these accounts always proved incorrect. It is unnecessary to recount the numerous expeditions sent out by Lady Franklin, and by the Governments of Great Britain and the United States. Suffice it to say that, on the 6th of May, 1859, Lieutenant Hobson found at Point Victory, near Cape Victoria, a cairn and a tin case, the latter containing a paper, signed on the 25th of April, 1848, by Captain Fitzjames, which certified that the ships Erebus and Terror were beset with ice on the 12th of September, 1846; that Sir John Franklin died on the 11th of the following June; and that the ships were deserted on the 22nd of April, 1848. Some skeletons and other relics were afterwards discovered; but the precise nature of the sufferings endured by these heroic men is swallowed up for ever in the icy silence of the Polar Seas.

The rapid development of Tractarianism in the Church of England drew forth from the Archbishop of Canterbury a letter to the clergy of the Established Church, dated January 11th, 1845. His Grace forbore from giving any authoritative opinion on the practices recently introduced, but recommended moderation, forbearance, and mutual concession. Where the Tractarian innovations had been submitted to quietly, he thought they should be continued; but where they had been violently opposed, he advised the clergyman not to insist on their observance. Uniformity in the mode of conducting public worship he regarded as extremely desirable; but, as the Rubric was not very consistent with itself, he admitted that its authors might possibly have contemplated the existence of some diversity, when sanctioned by convenience. Nothing could be more amiable than the feeling which prompted this address; but it was clearly unfitted to appease the feelings of either the Tractarians or the Anti-Tractarians. Both sides were committed to the most extreme views, which they advocated with mutual bitterness. Eight days after the publication of the Archbishop’s circular, there was a disturbance in St. Sidwell’s Church, Exeter, arising out of the Puseyite practices of the Rev. Francis Courtenay. The matter was referred to the Bishop of Exeter by the Mayor, and the former wrote to Mr. Courtenay, recommending him to give way at the request of the civil authorities, and not to persist in wearing the surplice in the pulpit, unless his conscience should require him to do so. At the present day it seems a ridiculous wrangling over trifles to dispute whether a clergyman shall wear a surplice or a gown; but it should be recollected that these trifles were commonly held to be the outward manifestations of a fixed determination on the part of all Puseyite clergymen to assimilate the Church of England to the Church of Rome. If the opposition to the surplice was trivial, so also was the determination to wear it: if the wearing of the surplice involved a serious principle on the one side, the resistance involved an equally serious principle on the other. Yet the Archbishop of Canterbury thought that a few kindly words would compose these heart-burnings, which had already destroyed the peace of the Church, and now threatened its very existence.

From all such vexed questions, and from the inevitable contentions of party, it was an unspeakable comfort to the Queen and Prince Albert to be able to retire for a brief season to some quiet country spot, where they could live in repose and privacy. This immunity from public cares gave their special charm to the Scottish tours. But the Highlands are remote from London, and it was very desirable that some place should be found, sufficiently removed for a leisurely seclusion, and sufficiently near the metropolis for a quick and easy return. When her Majesty and the Prince accompanied the King of the French to Portsmouth at the conclusion of his visit in the autumn of 1844, they saw a charming estate in the Isle of Wight, which has since become famous as the marine residence of Osborne. It was Sir Robert Peel who drew their attention to this beautiful retreat, and in the early part of 1845 it was purchased by her Majesty. “It sounds so pleasant,” wrote the Queen to King Leopold, “to have a place of one’s own, quiet and retired, and free from all Woods and Forests, and other charming departments, which really are the plague of one’s life.” The estate was afterwards enlarged by further purchases, and the mansion then existing was almost immediately pulled down, that a larger and more dignified edifice might occupy its site. The new structure was planned by Prince Albert, and the building operations were conducted by the late Mr. Thomas Cubitt. The grounds also were laid out by the Prince, and the ornamental plantations, which owed their existence to him, are still amongst the greatest beauties of the Royal domain. Here likewise, as at Windsor, his Royal Highness had a farm for scientific agriculture, which he managed so admirably that in a little while he made it pay.

Before the opening of Parliament the Queen and Prince Albert paid two visits which were productive of general satisfaction. The first, which took place about the middle of January, was to the seat of the Duke of Buckingham at Stowe, where the Royal couple were received in a style of unusual magnificence. The other visit was to the Duke of Wellington at Strathfieldsaye, where the Royal party arrived on the 20th of January. “The Duke,” writes Mr. Anson, “takes the Queen in to dinner, and sits by her Majesty, and after dinner gets up and says, ‘With your Majesty’s permission, I give the health of her Majesty,’ and then the same for the Prince. They then adjourn to