The prince who now ascended the throne was in the bloom of life: he had just completed his twenty-fifth year. He had been weak and delicate in childhood: among the defects from which he suffered was that of stammering, which he did not get over throughout life; but he had grown up stronger in other ways than had been expected. He looked well on horseback: men saw him govern with safety horses that were hard to manage: he was expert in knightly exercises: he was a good shot with the cross-bow, as well as with the gun, and even learned how to load a cannon. He was hardly less unweariedly devoted to the chase than his father. He could not vie with him in intelligence and knowledge, nor with his deceased brother Henry in vivacious energy and in popularity of disposition; but he had learnt much from his father, at whose feet he loved to sit; and his brother's tastes for the arts and for the experimental sciences, especially the former, had passed to him. In moral qualities he was superior to both. He was one of those young men of whom it is said that they have no fault. His strict propriety of demeanour bordered on maiden bashfulness: a serious and temperate soul spoke from his calm eyes. He had a natural gift for apprehending even the most complicated questions, and he was a good writer.