344 MEMOIR OF DR. HARVEY. 



of Prince Albeit, and every one was in the best possible good 

 humour with every one and everything. All was sunshine of 

 the brightest and serenest, and so every one enjoyed himself to 

 the utmost. None of this halo rested on 1862 — the poor 

 Prince was in his early grave, the Queen secluded herself, only 

 visiting the palace by stealth, in the strictest privacy, so that 

 few knew she was there at all. So, though the contents of the 

 show of 1862 are allowed to be far superior to those of 1851, the 

 general effect was less beautiful. So every one says. The Jews 

 who saw the first Temple, wept at the dedication of the second. 

 Those who did not remember the first Exhibition, alone could 

 do justice to this last. . . . The picture galleries were to me 

 and to many others the most enjoyable part of the show. The 

 English school, ancient and modern, was very fully and well 

 represented. To me it is with painting as with music. I like 

 the tender more than the grand or thrilling pieces. I know it is 

 from defective taste, but no help for that. Truth is truth. We 

 greatly enjoyed our visit to Kew, though it had its drawbacks 

 in this — that I could not shut my eyes to the inroads that time 

 has made in the health of my dear old friend Sir William 

 Hooker. He was almost confined to the sofa the whole time, 

 and though cheerful and patient beyond most, yet it was so 

 different from his old buoyant activity that it felt sad. He has 

 passed his seventy-eighth birthday ! Still his mind is bright 

 and vigorous, and sight and memory remarkably good, and he 

 is as anxious as ever to promote his favourite science. Nor is 

 there yet any shake in his clear handwriting, and his pen runs 

 as fast as ever. It was two years since I had been at Kew, so 

 I saw the greater change. 



I have read reviews of Trollope's book that you write of. It 

 is generally allowed here to be fairly written, but somewhat too 

 diffuse and long-winded. I am glad to find that you think 

 there is at least one Englishman able to do you justice, and 

 willing withal. 



I have just received a letter from the son of my old friend 

 Professor Bailey of West Point. He is now a Professor in a 

 New Brunswick College, and seems to wish to do every justice 

 to his father's memory, by publishing his MSS., &c. It was a 

 very nice letter, and it gave me great pleasure to receive it. 



