ing them which could not have been excelled at any age. It was a time, perhaps, when age was less afraid of youth than it is at present. Delane became editor of The Times at four-and-twenty. It is only by persistent effort that we can bring ourselves to believe that two generations earlier Pitt was really Leader of the House of Commons and Chancellor of the Exchequer, and had declined to be Prime Minister at three-and-twenty, and became Prime Minister at five-and-twenty, and held the post uninterruptedly and with paralleled power for the next eighteen years. This miracle has been explained by saying that Pitt was phenomenal; his tutor called him "Mr. Pitt" when he was seven—he was born old; he did not acquire caution and judgment, as other people do, with years; he was gifted with them from his cradle. People have sometimes asked themselves whether Prince Albert was not "born old" too. It is true we are told that he had a great fund of drollery in his nature, and a considerable power of mimicry and a turn for drawing caricatures; we also hear of one thoroughly boyish prank which he played in 1839, on the very eve of his engagement—stooping in his travelling carriage when it stopped to change horses in a little village, so that the inhabitants who had assembled to see the Prince, saw nothing but his greyhound, Eôs, looking out of the window. This is exactly what any boy might do; but he was on the eve of a crisis in his life which caused all boyishness to be put away. Just as under the weight of a solemn purpose Hamlet disencumbers himself of all the "trivial fond records" of his youth, that
"My commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmixed with baser matter,"
so the Prince, under the immense responsibilities of his position and his sense of the difficulty of discharg-
