A splendid collection of arms from Afghanistan, recently sent to me from India by Sir Edward Ryan, was lying on the tables in one of the rooms we passed through. These had attracted the notice of the Prince, and on returning, the whole party examined them with the greatest interest
I now conducted my visitors to the fire-proof building in which the Difference Engine was placed. Prince Albert was, I understood, sufficiently acquainted with the higher departments of mathematical science to appreciate the influence of such an instrument on its future progress. But the circumstance that charmed me was—his bearing towards his uncle, Count Mensdorf. It was perfectly natural: it could be felt, admired, and honoured—but not described.
When the sad fact of the nation’s loss became known to me, I immediately reverted with some anxiety to a work I had published ten years before on the Exhibition of 1851. I feared lest, in speaking of that event, I might have committed some injustice, whilst I was indignant at that under which I was myself suffering. I willingly reprint it here because it contained no empty words of flattery; but analysed the reasons which commanded our respect.
“The merit of the original conception of the present {171} Exposition [1851] is insignificant in comparison with that of the efforts by which it was carried out, and with the importance of its practical results.
“To have seen from afar its effects on the improvement, the wealth, and the happiness of the people—to have seized the fit moment, when, by the right use of the influence of an exalted station, it was possible to overcome the deeply-rooted prejudices of the upper classes—to remove the still more formidable, because latent, impediments of party—generously to have undertaken great responsibility, and with indefatigable labour to have endeavoured to make the best out of the only materials at hand,—these are endowments of no ordinary kind.
“To move in any rank of society an exception to its general rules, is a very difficult, and if accompanied by the consciousness of the situation, a very painful position to a reflecting mind.
〈PENALTIES OF EXALTED STATION.〉
“Whatever may be the cause—whether exalted rank, unbounded wealth, surpassing beauty or unrivalled wit, the renown of daring deeds, the magic of a world-wide fame—to all within those narrow limits the dangers and the penalties are great. Each exists an isolated spirit; each unconsciously imprisoned within its crystal globe perceives the colours of all external objects modified by those tints imparted to them by its own surrounding sphere. No change of view can teach it to rectify this partial judgment; throughout its earthward course the same undying rainbow attends to the last its parent drop.
〈ITS SYMPATHIES.〉
“Rarely indeed can some deep-searching mind, after long comparison, perceive the real colours of those translucent shells which encompass kindred spirits; and thus at length enable him to achromatise the medium which surrounds his {172} own. To one who has thus rectified the “colour-blindness” of his intellectual vision, how deep the sympathy he feels for those still involved in that hopeless obscurity from which he has himself escaped. None can so justly appreciate that sense of loneliness, that solitude of mind, which surrounds unquestioned eminence on its lofty throne;—none, therefore, can make so large an allowance for its errors;—none so skilfully assist in guiding its hazardous career.”