to fear from her two or three cousins. The thing was not done, however; and it is not done yet. Our Royal marriages for nearly half a century have been so unlike those wretched arbitrary alliances of the old King’s time, that the nation has nearly lost the sense of the moral evil and political danger involved in that law: and it may be that trouble may not again arise from it: but nobody can be sure that it will not; and we should have been more secure, and the royalty of England would have been more dignified in all eyes, if we had used our opportunity to rid ourselves of a law suitable only to a long past condition of society.
Since it was enacted, a new view has been opened to us in another direction. We know more than our fathers did of the facts and rationale of human life and health. We understand better than they did the consequences of marriages of consanguinity, and can see how entirely indefensible is any law which restricts the choice in marriage within a narrow field of dynastic connection. Nothing can be more fatal to the stability of thrones and the prospects of nations, in regard to combined order and freedom, than a continuance of the practice of intermarriage between a few families; and, unless the palaces of Europe are to be filled with mere dregs of royal races,—with the halt and the blind, and the deaf and the idiotic,—there must be that obedience to natural laws in Royal marriages which old King George’s home-made law insolently violates. If order is to be preserved throughout Europe, the princes of Europe must be wise and strong, in mind and body: and if freedom is to live and grow, there can be no such close dynastic connection allowed as would be the result of the king-made marriages which George III. and his Queen insisted upon, as a proper field of regal function and prerogative. We know more than they did of the necessity of new blood to sustain both the physical and moral strength of European royalty; and we regard more than they did the political prospects of rulers and of peoples, which are never so dark as when the smallest number of families engrosses the largest amount of the control of nations. If we have among us sufficient political philosophy to apprehend these truths, we shall not forget that the Royal Marriage Act of George III. is still on the Statute book.
It is no reason for carelessness about this fact that we have had no occasion to trouble ourselves about the law in the present reign. It had no bearing, as I have said, on the Queen’s own choice: and the marriages of her two eldest daughters have thoroughly satisfied us all. After the dreary matrimonial proceedings of the elder generation, the rational happiness of our Royal household has been a refreshment to the heart and conscience of the nation. It seems but the other day that the citizens were speaking to one another of the comfort to us all of our young Queen having a real home, and an equal companion,—a good man to repose her faith on,—an intelligent friend to counsel her,—a cultivated man to fill her opening mind, and to give her the privilege of revering and deferring, like other young wives. The public anxieties then arising made us rejoice all the more in the marriage; and though we were far from anticipating what we might one day think of Prince Albert, we felt that there was no drawback but that of consanguinity. Now that their daughters have risen up to claim our sympathy as brides, the feeling of national satisfaction is, as far as I know, absolutely unmixed. We are glad that the Princess Alice is not quite so young as her sister was: but we had not an objection to make when the Princess Royal appeared before us,—so sensible and quiet, while so happy,—so unaffected in the enjoyment of a blissful first love which all the old folks in the kingdom enjoyed with her. We were all anxious to be certain that her Prince fully understood the worth of his prize; and I believe we had no misgivings whatever after the delightful outpourings of frank confidence and joyful emotion on his arrival for his wedding, which made a friendship at once between the Crown Prince of Prussia and all who cherished England’s Eldest Daughter,—that young creature to be so called!
It would have surprised us then to be told that we should feel far more deeply and more strongly upon occasion of the marriage of the second daughter. We should have thought it impossible; yet, unless I am much mistaken, so it is. Many influences have combined to create a singular emotion in us towards the Princess Alice. From the time when we first heard of any distinctive traits of character in her, we have been aware of a great general superiority,—a strength, both of heart and head, an energy and devotedness, belonging only to a high nature; and a strong and severe discipline of circumstances has brought out all this power, so as to make it clear to all eyes.
First, we thought of her as very happy in her young love,—her parents being so happy in it, with and for her. We take her Prince upon trust, with all confidence and pleasure, because of her wise father’s satisfaction with his intended son-in-law. Then, when the engagement had already lasted long enough to show a wise precaution against a too early marriage, began the sad series of postponements which must have tried that young heart very sorely. Little may have been said about that result of the Queen’s afflictions in the loss of her mother and her husband; but it has not been the less felt. There has been hearty sympathy with the Prince of Hesse and his betrothed, while the expression of sorrow has been naturally loudest in regard to the bereaved Queen. It was really a general comfort when it was found that the marriage was to take place privately during the year of mourning. The devotedness of the daughter was, it appeared, to be repaid by the self-denial of the mother; and the consequence is that that quiet wedding at Osborne—quieter than the middle-class weddings of every day—is hailed with a deeper emotion than even those espousals of the Princess Royal which were a brilliant national festival.
The bride of this week is greeted by a homage as hearty as the nation’s sympathy. It is not often that a young creature has occasion or opportunity to show such qualities as command the highest respect while winning admiration and love. The Princess Alice has, in one word, always been equal to every occasion, under trials