with a passion for mastering and controlling them, then the sacrifice was
all the greater.

But he made it, led by what was, in him, an overruling sense of right, and
by the sweetest compelling motive, for highest duty and for her his Queen.
Having put his hand to the plough he never looked back. What his hand found
to do, that he did with all his might, and he became one of the hardest
workers of his age. In seeing what he resigned, we also see that the
fullness of his life was rendered complete by the resignation. He was
called to do a grand, costly service, and he did well, at whatever price,
to obey the call. Without the sacrifice his life would have been less
honourable as an example, less full, less perfect, and so, in the end, less
satisfying.

When the troth was plighted, the Queen adds, "I then told him to fetch
Ernest, who congratulated us both and seemed very happy. He told me how
perfect his brother was."

There were other kind friends to rejoice in the best solution of the
problem and settlement of the vexed question. The good mother and aunt, the
Duchess of Kent, rendered as secure as mortal mother could be of the future
contentment and prosperity of her child; the attached kinsman beyond the
Channel; the father of the bridegroom; his female relations; trusty Baron
Stockmar; an early comrade, were all to be told and made happy, and in some
cases sorry also, for the promotion of Prince Albert to be the Queen's
husband meant exile from Germany.

The passages given from the Queen's and Prince's letters to King Leopold
and Baron Stockmar are not only very characteristic, the words express what
those who loved the writers best would have most wished them to say. The