clear explanations of the phenomena which evoked her admiration. Her engrossing passion, indeed--as was that of her future husband--was for cabinets of natural history, menageries, museums, &c. For pictures she had an equal love, and one of the first acquirements in which she became proficient was sketching from nature. Perhaps the greatest danger she incurred, and the one which her mother had to take the greatest pains to avert, was the likelihood that her independent decision of character, which she derived from the Hanoverian half of her ancestry, might degenerate into stubbornness and self-will. But her natural sense of justice, and ready openness to clear conviction, proved an admirable counterpoise. With peculiar ingenuousness of character, she unreservedly admitted an error the very instant she perceived it. Once, for example, when on a visit to Earl Fitzwilliam, a bosom friend of her father, the party were walking in the grounds, and she had run on in advance. An under-gardener cautioned her not to go down a certain walk, as, said he, in his provincial dialect, the rain had made the ground "slape." "Slape! slape!" cried she, rapidly, and in the true George III. style; "and pray, what is 'slape?'" "Very slippery, miss--your Royal Highness--ma'am," replied he. "Oh! that's all," she replied; "thank you," and at once proceeded. She had not advanced many yards, when she came down heavily to the ground. The Earl had been observing all that had passed, from a few yards' distance, and he cried out, "There! now your Royal Highness has an explanation of the term 'slape,' both theoretically and practically." "Yes, my lord," she somewhat meekly said, "I think I have. I shall never forget the word 'slape.'" On a similar occasion, when cautioned not to frolic with a dog whose temper was not very reliable, she persisted in doing so, and he made a snap at her hand. Her cautioner ran solicitously, believing that she had been bitten. "Oh, thank you! thank you!" said she. "You're right, and I am wrong; but he didn't bite me--he only warned me. I shall be careful in future." [Sidenote: JUVENILE ANECDOTES.] The following incident shows that at least on some occasions a keen spirit of waggishness entered strongly into her self-will. When first she took lessons on the piano, she objected strongly to the monotonous fingering, as she had formerly done to A B C. She was, of course, informed that all success as a musician depended upon her first becoming "mistress of the piano." "Oh, I am to be mistress of my piano, am I?" asked she. To that the reply was a repetition of the statement. "Then what would you think of me if I became mistress at once?" "That would be impossible. There is no royal road to music. Experience and great practice are essential."