the bonds of fraternal affection, and to make us live in pure and Christian love with all men; that though a secret we are not a political body; and that our Masonic principles and hopes are essential parts of our attachment to the Constitution and loyalty to the Crown." His Royal Highness's address was received with great applause. The Lodge was then closed in due form. THE ILLNESS OF DECEMBER, 1871. How much the Prince of Wales had endeared himself to all classes in the nation was attested by the deep anxiety and the universal sorrow when he was struck down with illness in December, 1871. Those who remember that time, can tell how, for some weeks, all thoughts were turned to the chamber of sickness at Sandringham; with what earnest anxiety the daily bulletins were looked for; and with what fervent devotion the prayers of millions ascended to the throne of grace. The "dark December" of 1861, when the good Prince Consort lay on his deathbed, increased the ominous foreboding. Touching incidents of that critical period are still told. The watchful attendance of the Princess of Wales was illustrated in no way more strikingly than in the anecdote of her request to the clergyman at Sandringham to alter the order of the morning service so as to let her, after joining in the public prayer for recovery, hasten back to her husband's side. We remember, too, the affectionate anxiety of the royal mother, and brothers and sisters; and how the Prince himself, when he recovered consciousness, asked thoughtfully about the condition of the servant, who died of the same fever which nearly proved fatal to his master. Had the Prince been "taken" at this period of his life, history would have recorded the loss in terms of tender regret, such as had been, more than once, felt towards Princes of Wales who died before coming to the throne. The eldest son of James I., for instance, was long remembered with deepest sorrow, so much was he loved, and so large the hopes of the nation which had been centered in him. Had our Prince been lost in that illness, there would have been another instance of what inspired one of the noblest of all passages in classic literature, the "_Tu Marcellus eris_" of Virgil. Happily it was otherwise ordained, and the enthusiasm of joyful thankfulness at the recovery of the Prince was as truly national as had been the anxiety and grief at his illness. The special Thanksgiving Collect, written by the Archbishop of Canterbury, expressed well the universal feeling of the nation:--