As I think it right to abstain from recording my recollections of royal persons still alive, I must say nothing of the stay of the young Prince of Wales at Oxford; but, among the many things which I treasure in my memory, I may at least produce one small treasure, a sixpence, which I won from His Royal Highness at whist. I have always been a very bad whist player, but good luck would have it that I won a sixpence at Frewen Hall, the Prince’s residence at Oxford. The Prince maintained that I had calculated my points wrongly, but not being a courtier, I held my own, and actually appealed to General Bruce. When he decided in my favour, the Prince graciously handed me my sixpence, which I have kept ever since among my treasures. I may speak more fully of Prince Leopold, the late Duke of Albany, a deeply interesting character of whom much was expected, and in whom much has been lost. He was often a great sufferer while at Oxford, but when he was well, no one was so well as he was, no one looked more brilliant or more vigorous. His little dinner parties were charming. His tutor, Mr. (now Sir) R. Collins, knew how to collect his guests, and the Prince was the most excellent host. Whenever I had some distinguished man staying with me, a note was sure to come from the Prince, asking whether he might invite Emerson or Froude, or whoever it might be, and I well remember his adding: “You may tell Mr. Froude that I have read the whole of his ‘History.’” And so he had. Being often confined to his bed he had read a great deal, and was read to by his devoted tutor, Sir R. Collins. How many fond hopes centred in that life, and how anxious many of the best men that Oxford has produced were to inspire him with a love each of his own subject. Sanskrit, I soon perceived, had no chance. But for a time astronomy was in the ascendant, then history, then art. But there was always the danger to be guarded against of the young student becoming too much absorbed in any one subject, and losing that general sympathy with learning and art which is so desirable in a Prince. The Prince had a quick eye for small weaknesses, but his kindness was likewise extreme. I so well remember sitting by him at dinner, and enjoying the most exquisite real Johannisberger from the royal cellar. Prince Metternich used to send every year some of the best of his _crue_ to the royalties represented at the Congress of Vienna, having received Johannisberg from that Congress. Prince Leopold knew how to appreciate the wines sent him from the royal cellar. “They like port better at Oxford,” he said to me, “but we shall keep to the _Rheinwein_.” It was really a quite exceptional wine, the aroma of it being perceptible even at the dinner-table. I quoted some of my father’s drinking songs, “Das Essen, nicht das Trinken, bracht’ uns um’s Paradies,” etc. Many delightful evenings were thus spent in the Prince’s drawing-room. I often played _à quatre mains_