most vigorously. The royal nurseries
showed no sign of emptying. The birth of the Prince Arthur in 1850 was
followed, three years later, by that of the Prince Leopold; and in
1857 the Princess Beatrice was born. A family of nine must be, in any
circumstances, a grave responsibility; and the Prince realised to the
full how much the high destinies of his offspring intensified the need
of parental care. It was inevitable that he should believe profoundly
in the importance of education; he himself had been the product of
education; Stockmar had made him what he was; it was for him, in his
turn, to be a Stockmar--to be even more than a Stockmar--to the young
creatures he had brought into the world. Victoria would assist him; a
Stockmar, no doubt, she could hardly be; but she could be perpetually
vigilant, she could mingle strictness with her affection, and she could
always set a good example. These considerations, of course, applied
pre-eminently to the education of the Prince of Wales. How tremendous
was the significance of every particle of influence which went to the
making of the future King of England! Albert set to work with a will.
But, watching with Victoria the minutest details of the physical,
intellectual, and moral training of his children, he soon perceived, to
his distress, that there was something unsatisfactory in the development
of his eldest son. The Princess Royal was an extremely intelligent
child; but Bertie, though he was good-humoured and gentle, seemed to
display a deep-seated repugnance to every form of mental exertion. This
was most regrettable, but the remedy was obvious: the parental efforts
must be redoubled; instruction must be multiplied; not for a single
instant must the educational pressure be allowed to relax. Accordingly,
more tutors were selected, the curriculum was revised, the time-table of
studies was rearranged, elaborate memoranda dealing with every possible
contingency were drawn up. It was above all essential that there should
be no slackness: "Work," said the Prince, "must be work." And work
indeed it was. The boy grew up amid a ceaseless round of paradigms,
syntactical exercises, dates, genealogical tables, and lists of capes.
Constant notes flew backwards and forwards between the Prince, the
Queen, and the tutors, with inquiries, with reports of progress, with
detailed recommendations; and these notes were all carefully preserved
for future reference. It was, besides, vital that t