As the months passed, however, the English learned that this young Prince was a remarkable man in his grasp of politics, his talent for art and music, and his honest and unselfish devotion to the good of the realm. What was more, they showed their appreciation by an act of Parliament. The country was not yet at rest about the succession to the crown. If the Queen should have a child and die before the child was of age, a regent would be necessary. Parliament discussed the question, and named the Prince, "the foreigner," as regent. "They would not have done it for him six months ago," declared Lord Melbourne with delight. The Queen had always been loved by the Whigs, and just about this time a great wave of devotion to her swept through not only their ranks but also those of the Tories. A boy of seventeen tried to shoot her, not because he hated her, but because he wished to be notorious. The Queen was in her carriage with the Prince when the attempt was made. She drove on rapidly to tell the Duchess of Kent that she was safe, then she returned to the park, where hundreds of people had gathered, hoping to see her and make sure that she was not injured. She was received with cheers and shouts of delight, and all the horseback riders formed in line on both sides of her carriage as if they were her bodyguard. When she appeared at the opera a few days later, she was greeted with a whirlwind of cheers and shouts. The whole house sang "God Save the Queen!" Then they pleased her still more by crying, "The Prince! The Prince!" and when Prince Albert stepped to the front, he was cheered so heartily that she knew he was fast winning the hearts of her people. Operas and popularity were not the only things to be thought of in those days. The royal couple, barely twenty-one years of age, were working hard on constitutional history. They were very anxious, too, about the possibility of war with France on account of trouble in regard to Turkey and Egypt, and when their little daughter was born, in November, 1840, the Queen said: "I really think she ought to be named Turko-Egypto." The little girl was not named Turko-Egypto, but Victoria Adelaide Mary Louise, and she had to wait three months for her name, as the christening did not take place until February. She was baptized with water brought from the River Jordan. The font was not taken from the Tower, as it had been for her mother's baptism, but a new one was made of silver, marked with her coat-of-arms and also those of her father and her mother. She was a very decorous little Princess, and the proud father wrote home to Coburg that she "behaved with great propriety and did not cry at all." There was much rejoicing at the birth of this Princess Royal; but when, a year later, a Prince was born, then the delight of the nation knew no bounds. He was the heir to the throne, and it was impossible to do too much to celebrate his birth. Punch said: