ly a week ago
in England. A little royal duke, in whose veins the blood of the Stuarts
still flows, was brought to the font of the quiet village church of
Esher in Surrey. Very peaceful and unpretentious was the baby Duke of
Albany's christening--poor little fatherless boy. But there were none
present who did not truly love and honor the widowed grandmother who
held him in her arms and the young widowed mother who stood by, or mourn
for the accomplished, studious father, who died but a few months ago.
Which is likely to have the happiest childhood--the little Guelph
wrapped in the pure white Honiton-lace robe in which all the children
and grandchildren of Queen Victoria have been christened; or the little
Stuart in her purple velvet train, among the cloth-of-gold, and heralds,
and grandees of James the First's heartless, luxurious, extravagant
court?

Babies were differently treated in those days. Now, be they children of
a queen, or of the humblest commoner, they stay safe at home in their
nice, warm nurseries, under their mother's eye. But the royal children
of that date were sent off to be cared for "by trusty persons of
quality." Little Princess Mary was given into the charge of Lady
Knyvett. And on the first of June, when she was not two months old, she
was taken down to Stanwell where Sir Thomas Knyvett lived.

He was allowed twenty pounds per week for the diet of the
princess and of her suite, consisting of six rockers, and
several inferior attendants; but the king took upon himself
the payment of their wages, the expenses of her removals
from house to house, of her apparel, coach and horses,
etc.[56]

[Illustration: THE MONUMENTS OF PRINCESS SOPHIA AND PRINCESS MARY.]

Lady Knyvett took the greatest care of her little charge. But children
were badly understood in those times. Badly nursed, and fed, and
clothed, two thirds of the babies that were born in England died. It was
only the very strong ones who could survive their bringing-up. Think
only of that stuffy cradle of "carnation velvet," and the "mantles of
unshorn velvet," and the bibs "wrought with gold and colored silks."
Hot, uncomfortable, unhealthy things--one shudders to think of a little
tender baby in such garments. Then think of the utter ignorance of most
of the physicians of those days; and of the appalling disregard of
ventilation, baths, and proper food. What wonder, then, that little
Princess Mary did not live lon