oft Osborne.  It was indeed a model Court.  Not only were its central personages the patterns of propriety, but no breath of scandal, no shadow of indecorum, might approach its utmost boundaries.  For Victoria, with all the zeal of a convert, upheld now the standard of moral purity with an inflexibility surpassing, if that were possible, Albert’s own.  She blushed to think how she had once believed—­how she had once actually told him—­that one might be too strict and particular in such matters, and that one ought to be indulgent towards other people’s dreadful sins.  But she was no longer Lord M’s pupil:  she was Albert’s wife.  She was more—­the embodiment, the living apex of a new era in the generations of mankind.  The last vestige of the eighteenth century had disappeared; cynicism and subtlety were shrivelled into powder; and duty, industry, morality, and domesticity triumphed over them.  Even the very chairs and tables had assumed, with a singular responsiveness, the forms of prim solidity.  The Victorian Age was in full swing.

VII

Only one thing more was needed:  material expression must be given to the new ideals and the new forces so that they might stand revealed, in visible glory, before the eyes of an astonished world.  It was for Albert to supply this want.  He mused, and was inspired:  the Great Exhibition came into his head.

Without consulting anyone, he thought out the details of his conception with the minutest care.  There had been exhibitions before in the world, but this should surpass them all.  It should contain specimens of what every country could produce in raw materials, in machinery and mechanical inventions, in manufactures, and in the applied and plastic arts.  It should not be merely useful and ornamental; it should teach a high moral lesson.  It should be an international monument to those supreme blessings of civilisation—­peace, progress, and prosperity.  For some time past the Prince had been devoting much of his attention to the problems of commerce and industry.  He had a taste for machinery of every kind, and his sharp eye had more than once detected, with the precision of an expert, a missing cog-wheel in some vast and complicated engine.  A visit to Liverpool, where he opened the Albert Dock, impressed upon his mind the immensity of modern industrial forces, though in a letter to Victoria describing his experiences, he was careful to retain his customary lightness of touch.  “As I write,” he playfully remarked, “you will be making your evening toilette, and not be ready in time for dinner.  I must set about the same task, and not, let me hope, with the same result...  The loyalty and enthusiasm of the inhabitants are great; but the heat is greater still.  I am satisfied that if the population of Liverpool had been weighed this morning, and were to be weighed again now, they would be found many degrees lighter.  The docks