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surrounds her. From the hour she gets out of bed till she gets into it again

there is work, work, work,--letter-boxes, questions, etc., which are



dreadfully exhausting--and if she had not comparative rest and quiet in the

evening she would most likely not be ALIVE. Her brain is constantly



overtaxed." It was too true.

III



To carry on Albert's work--that was her first duty; but there was another,

second only to that, and yet nearer, if possible, to her heart--to impress the



true nature of his genius and character upon the minds of her subjects. She

realised that during his life he had not been properly appreciated; the full



extent of his powers, the supreme quality of his goodness, had been

necessarily concealed; but death had removed the need of barriers, and now her



husband, in his magnificent entirety, should stand revealed to all. She set to

work methodically. She directed Sir Arthur Helps to bring out a collection of



the Prince's speeches and addresses, and the weighty tome appeared in 1862.

Then she commanded General Grey to write an account of the Prince's early



years--from his birth to his marriage; she herself laid down the design of the

book, contributed a number of confidential documents, and added numerous



notes; General Grey obeyed, and the work was completed in 1866. But the

principal part of the story was still untold, and Mr. Martin was forthwith



instructed to write a complete biography of the Prince Consort. Mr. Martin

laboured for fourteen years. The mass of material with which he had to deal



was almost incredible, but he was extremely industrious, and he enjoyed

throughout the graciousassistance of Her Majesty. The first bulky volume was



published in 1874; four others slowly followed; so that it was not until 1880

that the monumental work was finished.



Mr. Martin was rewarded by a knighthood; and yet it was sadly evident that

neither Sir Theodore nor his predecessors had achieved the purpose which the



Queen had in view. Perhaps she was unfortunate in her coadjutors, but, in

reality, the responsibility for the failure must lie with Victoria herself.



Sir Theodore and the others faithfully carried out the task which she had set

them--faithfully put before the public the very image of Albert that filled



her own mind. The fatal drawback was that the public did not find that image

attractive. Victoria's emotional nature, far more remarkable for vigour than



for subtlety, rejecting utterly the qualifications which perspicuity, or

humour, might suggest, could be satisfied with nothing but the absolute and



the categorical. When she disliked she did so with an unequivocal emphasis

which swept the object of her repugnance at once and finally outside the pale



of consideration; and her feelings of affection were equally unmitigated. In

the case of Albert her passion for superlatives reached its height. To have



conceived of him as anything short of perfect--perfect in virtue, in wisdom,

in beauty, in all the glories and graces of man--would have been an



unthinkable blasphemy: perfect he was, and perfect he must be shown to have

been. And so, Sir Arthur, Sir Theodore, and the General painted him. In the



circumstances, and under such supervision, to have done anything else would

have required talents considerably more distinguished than any that those



gentlemen possessed. But that was not all. By a curious mischance Victoria was

also able to press into her service another writer, the distinction of whose



talents was this time beyond a doubt. The Poet Laureate, adopting, either from

complaisance or conviction, the tone of his sovereign, joined in the chorus,



and endowed the royal formula with the magical resonance of verse. This




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