mately hurry a nation on to contempt for a ruling family which is so anxious to abolish the distinctive lines which keep it sacred and apart. No doubt that excellent principle, recognised by public instinct, is the best guide, which has long since tacitly sanctioned the rule that the man or woman of good sense will choose a partner from the ranks of their own station.

It is, however, scarcely sufficiently remembered that England, of all European countries, has been lax to a degree in asserting this distinction of caste; and innumerable instances could be adduced of such royal mésalliances, as they could be termed. This makes the marriage act of 1773 a piece of absurd inconsistency, and no more than an unconstitutional humouring of the angry whim of the King by a too obsequious parliament. The long line of English sovereigns is dotted with instances of this kind; and it is evident that it was a consideration of this kind that hindered Elizabeth's marriage with one of her subjects. The alliance of Mary Queen of Scots with Darnley was another instance. Queen Elizabeth was the granddaughter of a private gentleman, and Queen Anne's mother was not royal. Still, it may be doubted whether those poor twigs from off the great German royal family tree, which seems to be cultivated to supply cuttings to the various royalties of Europe, can be considered much more valuable than the noble saplings of our great English houses, which can boast descent as illustrious, can point to royal quarterings, and which, in position, wealth, pedigree, all save the title prince,' are infinitely superior.

Returning now to the marriage which is our immediate subject, it may be said that there was some excuse for the unreasoning despotism of the old King, in the repeated vagaries of his brothers, whose example he might assume would have the worst effect upon his sons. In 1766 the Duke of Gloucester married the Dowager Countess of Waldegrave, who was moreover illegitimate; while five years later the Duke of Cumberland married Mrs. Horton. Both these alliances were declared about the same time, and it was natural they should have irritated the King exceedingly. A bill was accordingly introduced into Parliament in 1773, making the marriage of any descendant of George II. under twenty-five, and without the king's consent, absolutely null and void. The debates that attended its progress were exceedingly vigorous, and some of the speeches were spirited and even witty. It was received, Walpole said, with the utmost coldness and disgust;' and the chief argument against it was its un-English and unconstitutional character. It was urged, and justly so, that this was adding to the prerogatives of the Crown, and disturbing the balance of the various elements in the state. The Crown indeed was severely hit all through; perhaps best of all by Lord Folkestone, who sarcastically recalled the King's famous speech about being born and educated a Briton-a king who was placing

such a stigma on Britons. The hardship and absurdity of the measure was also put forward; for the descendants of George II. might amount to over a thousand in time, according to the horseshoe progression, and where were husbands or wives to be procured for them? It was therefore a virtual prohibition from marriage, and a perpetual restraint.' And a ridiculous inconsistency, taken in connection with this view of the matter, was that the House had just been discussing the Thirty-nine Articles, and had affirmed them; one of which was that all Christians had a right to marry. Frequent allusions were made to the Star Chamber; and Dowderwell made a telling point when he asked, 'Why a man should not be thought fit to marry before twenty-five, when he was thought fit to reign at eighteen?'

This last point, indeed, redeemed the bill; for this limitation up to twenty-five years of age, under which the king's consent was necessary, virtually made him guardian during a long minority. After that age, if the king still refused his consent, the prince might give notice to the Privy Council; and if, after a year's interval, the Parliament did not object, the marriage might take place. Now, this portion the King was evidently induced to adopt from the belief that Parliament would always be as eager to indorse the royal wishes as it was then. But a royal prince might now marry a washerwoman, and the House of Commons would find it contrary to its temper and constitution to dream of interfering.

It is curious, therefore, that this royal-marriage act should be so little understood, or that a false idea of its repressive powers should be abroad. It has long been believed, for instance, that certain august personages connected with the Royal Family (to use the mysterious verbiage of the Court newsman) have been prevented contracting or declaring their marriage, owing to the pronounced veto of a certain still more august personage. It will be seen that these personages, being past five-and-twenty, could have safely consulted their own inclinations.

But the real monstrousness of the royal-marriage act lay in the penalty-viz. the nullity and voidableness of the marriage. This is really almost unchristian; and though the present system of divorce, on account of guilt or cruelty, may be at least intelligible, the idea of dissolving an honourable contract between those whom God has joined' on the mere whim of a parent seems wholly unworthy of a soi-disant religious country. At the present day, however, it may be doubted whether the nation would tolerate the dissolution of such an unequal marriage, but still one of affection, even if the sovereign was inclined to exert the powers given by act of parliament.

These considerations applied with great force to the case of the Duke of Sussex. When we come to consider who was Lady Augusta Murray, the old King might have had more reverence for one of more illustrious pedigree than he could boast. In fact, her case would

be the best warrant for those claims so often advanced by the Scotch of having the best blood. Even in this view it is well worth while considering it a moment. Through her mother, who was a Stewart, she could trace back in the straightest line to the Hamiltons, Dukes of Chatelherault, and, with a step beyond, to James II. king of Scotland. On her father's side, she could trace back through the Stanleys to the daughter of Henry VII. of England. Farther, through the Stanleys a descent was established from William I. prince of Orange, and Louis, duke of Montpensier. And finally, through the same line, from Charles VII. of France. With such a pedigree the young Scotch lady might have challenged comparison with many a princess in Europe.

The marriage having been dissolved, so far as the law of the land was concerned, the Prince vehemently protested his resolution not to accept this decision; and though his health did not allow him to live much with her in England, and though an estrangement' took place later, he always manfully maintained the troth he had plighted to the Lady Augusta de Ameland Murray. There were two children of the marriage-Sir Augustus d'Este and Lady Truro, both now dead. The former made unwearied efforts to procure some recognition of his claims, obtaining legal opinions and petitioning; but of course with no result. For, granting the full force of the marriage act, many grave points could be urged as to its terms not applying to the Prince. The strongest undoubtedly was, that the Prince was a peer of Ireland, and that eleven years before the marriage the independence of that country had been declared, and its status as a separate kingdom, unbound by any acts, save such as its own parliament should pass. This argument can hardly be invalidated; but the objection still remained that it must have been annulled by English law; for in analogies the English law only recognises or passes by foreign customs, titles, &c., where they do not clash with its own laws. Another argument pressed was the lady's being of a royal line herself. However, the King was inflexible. The well-known Sir Thomas Wilde, afterwards Lord Truro, married the daughter of this unlucky marriage.

In the year 1830, the heroine of the romance died, and the royal Prince, after a short interval, married an Irish lady-Lady Cecilia Buggin, or rather Underwood; and after the death of her royal husband, she was created Duchess of Inverness.

BELGRAVIA

JANUARY 1871

MILLY DARRELL

A Story

BY THE AUTHOR OF LADY AUDLEY'S SECRET,' ETC.

IN THREE PARTS:-PART III.

TE

CHAPTER IX. ANGUS EGERTON IS REJECTED.

HE expected storm came next day, and Milly and I were caught in it. We had gone for a ramble across the moor, and were luckily within a short distance of Rebecca Thatcher's cottage when the first vivid flash broke through the leaden clouds, and the first long peal of thunder came crashing over the open landscape. We set off for Mrs. Thatcher's habitation at a run, and arrived there breathless.

The herbalist was not alone. A tall dark figure stood between us and the little window as we went in, blotting out all the light. Milly gave a faint cry of surprise; and as the figure turned towards us I recognised Mr. Egerton.

In all our visits among the poor we had never met him before. 'Caught again, young ladies!' he cried, laughing; 'you've neither of you grown weatherwise yet, I see. Luckily you're under cover before the rain has begun. I think we shall have it pretty heavy presently. How surprised you look to see me here, Miss Darrell! Becky is a very old friend of mine. I remember her ever since I can remember anything. She was in my grandfather's service once upon a time.'

'That I was, Mr. Egerton, and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you and yours-for you at least, for there's none but you left But I suppose you'll be getting married one of these days; you're not going to let the old name of Egerton die out?'

now.

Angus Egerton shook his head with a slow sad gesture. 'I am too poor to marry, Mrs. Thatcher,' he said. 'What could I offer a wife but a gloomy old house, and a perpetual struggle to SECOND SERIES, VOL. III. F.S. VOL. XIII.

S

make hundreds do the work of thousands? I am too proud to ask the woman I love to sacrifice her future to me.'

'Cumber Priory is good enough for any woman that ever lived,' answered Rebecca Thatcher. You don't mean what you say, Mr. Egerton. You know that the name you bear is counted better than money in these parts.'

He laughed, and changed the conversation.

'I heard you young ladies talking a great deal of the Pensildon fête last night,' he said.

Did you really?' asked Milly; you did not appear to be much interested in our conversation.'

'Did I seem distrait? It is a way I have sometimes, Miss Darrell; but I can assure you I can hear two or three conversations I think I heard all that you and the Miss Collingwoods were saying.'

at once.

'You are going to Lady Pensildon's on the 31st, I suppose?' Milly said.

'I think not. I think of going abroad for the autumn. I have been rather a long time at Cumber, you know, and I'm afraid the restless fit is coming upon me again. I shall be sorry to go, too, for I had intended to torment you continually about your art studies. You have really a genius for landscape, you know, Miss Darrell ; you only want to be goaded into industry now and then by some severe critic like myself. Does your cousin, Mr. Stormont, draw, by the way?'

'Not at all.'
That's a pity.

He seems a very clever young man. I suppose he will be a good deal with you, now that Mr. and Mrs. Darrell have returned?'

6

He cannot stay very long at a time. He has the chief position in papa's counting-house."

Indeed! He looked a little as if the cares of business weighed upon his spirit.'

He glanced rather curiously at Milly while he was speaking of Mr. Stormont. Was he really going away, I wondered, or was that threat of departure only a lover-like ruse?

The rain came presently with all the violence usual to a thunder shower. We were prisoners in Mrs. Thatcher's cottage for more than an hour; a happy hour, I think, to Milly, in spite of the closeness of the atmosphere and the medical odour of the herbs. Angus Egerton stood beside her chair all the time, looking down at her bright face and talking to her; while Mrs. Thatcher mumbled a long catalogue of her ailings and troubles into my somewhat inattentive ear.

Once while those two were talking about his intended departure I heard Mr. Egerton say,