who love to see signs and portents in coincidences of time, and some might suggest that the day of the birth of an heir to the throne pointed to the fact that he was coming into life at a time in his country's history when municipal institutions, under the system of reformed corporations, were to have an ever-growing vigour and importance in our polity, and when, during a manhood's life of nearly forty years before acceding to the throne, he was to become the recipient of countless addresses from the hands of innumerable mayors. However this may be, the birth of the heir apparent was received in the City of London with the warmest welcome. The health of the infant was drunk with special honour, in what is called a Loving Cup, amidst uproarious cheering, at the Guildhall banquet. The principal guest, Sir Robert Peel, a master of stately and sonorous eloquence, referred in his speech to "the auspicious event which will make this day memorable in the annals of England" as one "completing the domestic happiness of Her Majesty, and filling the whole people with joy". He stated also his pleasure in the fact that distinguished foreigners were present, representing friendly and powerful States, to witness such a display of loyalty, and he looked forward to the day when, in the fulness of time, the young Prince should come to the throne of his ancestors, and, formed by the tender care and instructed by the example of his illustrious parents, should at some distant date prove himself worthy of so high a destiny. This was an anticipation which all good subjects of the Empire now admit to have been amply fulfilled. A few days later the civic dignitaries of London attended, with many distinguished persons, at Buckingham Palace, to offer their congratulations. The visitors were received by Prince Albert, and the little Prince was brought into the room and carried round for inspection, wrapped in a mantle of blue velvet and ermine. The party then tasted the "caudle". The very name of this beverage is, we suppose, quite unknown to most modern readers. A great wit and humorist of the early Victorian age, Douglas Jerrold, contributed to the pages of Punch, soon after the foundation of that famous and facetious periodical, many admirable sketches of a "nagging" wife, under the title of
