The Prince died in his forty-third year. It is pretty well understood by this time how well he had discharged the duties of a difficult station as Consort of the Crown, how true was the love which united him to the Queen, how deep was her sorrow at parting with him after twenty-one years of wedded life. He had lived down the prejudice which undoubtedly was prevalent at the time of, and for some years after, the marriage. Without appearing in political affairs with such prominence as might have aroused the susceptibilities of a self-governing people, his attention to public affairs was as incessant as that of any Cabinet Minister. The writing tables of the Queen and the Prince stood side by side; he was ever at hand to advise Her Majesty in her correspondence with Ministers; many of her letters and memoranda to the Cabinet are in the Prince's handwriting. When the final solution of the _Trent_ dispute was communicated to Her Majesty on January 9, 1862, she wrote to the Prime Minister: "Lord Palmerston cannot but look on this peaceful issue of the American quarrel as greatly owing to her beloved Prince, who wrote the observations on the draft to Lord Lyons, in which Lord Palmerston so entirely concurred. It was the last thing he ever wrote." [Illustration: _W. Theed._} {_At Windsor Castle._ THE QUEEN AND PRINCE CONSORT.] The only danger to the Prince Consort's place in the affections of the British people in his later years was of the nature of that which over-took Aristides. There is a certain monotony in virtue, like that of uninterrupted serene weather, which weighs upon natures of a less lofty tenour. But no sooner was the Prince departed than the nation realised the value of the part he had performed, and it has never since ceased to be grateful for the energy he displayed in promoting every scheme of social or intellectual advancement, and stimulating the growth of commercial and industrial enterprise. [Sidenote: The Cruiser "Alabama."]