In March, 1854, the Queen and Prince went to Osborne to visit the magnificent fleet of vessels which had been assembled at Spithead. Her Majesty wrote to Lord Aberdeen--"We are just starting to see the fleet, which is to sail at once for its important destination. It will be a solemn moment! Many a heart will be very heavy, and many a prayer, including our own, will be offered up for its safety and glory!" Ah! when those beautiful ships went sailing away, with their white sails spread, and the royal colors flying, death sat "up aloft," instead of the "sweet little cherub" popularly supposed to be perched there, and winds from the long burial-trenches of the battle-field played among the shrouds. King Frederick William of Prussia seemed to think that he could put an end to this little unpleasantness, and wrote a long letter to the Queen of England, paternally advising her to make some concessions to the Emperor of Russia, which concessions she thought would be weak and unworthy. Her reply reveals her characteristic high courage. One quotation, which she makes from Shakspeare, is admirable: "Beware Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in, Bear't, that the opposed may beware, of thee." Still, as we look back, it does seem as though with the wit of the Queen, the wisdom of Prince Albert, the philosophy of Baron Stockmar,--the philanthropy of Exeter Hall, and the piety of the Bench of Bishops, some sort of peaceful arrangement might have been effected, and the Crimean war left out of history. But then we should not have had the touching picture of the lion and the unicorn charging on the enemy together, not for England or France, but all for poor Turkey; and Mr. Tennyson could not have written his "Charge of the Light Brigade," which would have been a great loss to elocutionists. There were in Parliament a few poor- spirited economists and soft-hearted humanitarians who would fain have prevented that mighty drain of treasure and of the best blood of England- holding, with John Bright, that this war was "neither just nor necessary"; but they were "whistling against the wind." There was one rich English quaker, with a heart like a tender woman's and a face like a cherub's, who actually went over to Russia to labor with "friend Nicholas" against this war. All in vain! the Czar was deeply moved, of course, but would not give in, or give up.