Think of life as a twoway Mirror. On the one side, as we shall discover this week, stands the erstwhile editor of the Daily Eponymous, keeping a beady-eyed diary for rapid sale and Fleet Street serialisation. Piers Morgan dubs Cherie Blair "breathtakingly capricious and vindictive" (she's not much turned on by Piers) - if not "in the grip of personality disorder" (make that totally turned off ). But equally, Mr Morgan tells Daily Mail readers, Tony Blair himself is "inherently charming, nice, polite and well mannered". Apparently, Piers used to give the PM the benefit of his experience, man-to-man. "She causes you so much trouble," he'd say. He fears that the true victim of this political marriage is T Blair himself, "because ultimately it's the Blair brand that's damaged". Well, you can certainly draw some broken-brand conclusions from Labour's latest internal pollings. There, the leader's personal popularity with married women voters is down by six points. He's in almost as much bother as the Prince of Wales, whom only 31% of us now want to be king (when YouGov comes calling). Step, though, to the other side of the mirror. Look out rather than in, for the difference is instructive. What do Mr and Mrs Blair feel when they stare at the menacing world beyond? Pressure, of course: transient editors preparing to make a quick buck, rivals spreading poison, enemies stoking up every lecture tour or house purchase or personal friendship into some crisis of judgment. And careers - like the prospect of becoming a judge - going down the pan, flushed onward by so much detritus. For once, though, put all the usual arguments about future privacy to one side and concentrate on what remains - fixed here, today. The fact is that the Blairs are still firmly together, whatever the pressures; and that nice, polite, charming Tony seems as committed as ever. In short, this is a strong relationship toiled for and staunchly defended on both sides. Is that quite the message as currently conveyed? What about Blair the sophist, the acolyte of Bush, the betrayer of the faith, the quasi-president, the actor and smooth PR merchant? All or some of that may be true. But if marital wobbles at the top matter, then this look through the mirror tells us something useful, something most of us can relate to. Score one for commitment. Score one for not backing away when problems mount. And so we step inside the walls of Windsor. "All my life, people have been telling me what to do, and I'm tired of it," Prince Charles wails to Gavin Hewitt in a new book. "My private life has become an industry. People are making money out of it." (Just so: that's what books are for.) "I thought the British people were supposed to be compassionate. I don't see much sign of it."   Typical whingeing from an over-privileged anachronism who betrayed a nation's sweetheart and still wants it all? Perhaps. But, one more time, look outward through that two-way mirror. If you do, you may conclude that there has never been anything but public grief for Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles through three decades of disappointment and tumult. The palace, in its uttermost reaches, recoiled at the first liaison. They found the heir to the throne a wholly unsuitable virgin bride and propelled him to the altar: one wedding, two victims. They did nothing to help any sliver of that marriage succeed. They were chill and manipulative throughout - and the prince was weak. But he has been strong about Camilla, when it would have been so easy to slide away. This is another enduring partnership, because it has endured so much. Now it must endure the careless coldness of a mother and father who don't grasp what ordinary human relationships are about and the publicity-grabbing cavortions of assorted priests fresh from the latest C of E disaster. Now compassion, in the family or the nation, is off the menu. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the YouGov court of public opinion. Which is where, for a second, we should also pause. Most of us, if we're honest, know that staunchness and love walk side by side. We know there's a quality there, a branding that doesn't fade. And, if we value one quality in a cacophony without much compassion, then it's good to look through the mirror and see it still intact. Not the whole of the story, to be sure: but some of it. For intrusion, you see, has its uses.