Ah!
have any of the grown-up Royal Highnesses ever known the comfort and fun
in their grand palaces that they had in the merry old Swiss cottage days?
In the autumn of 1854 Prince Albert went over to Boulogne for a little
friendly visit to England's chief ally, taking with him little Arthur. He
seems to have found the French Emperor a little stiff and cold at first,
as he wrote to the Queen, "The Emperor thaws more and more." In the
sunshine of that genial presence he had to thaw. The Prince adds: "He
told me one of the deepest impressions ever made upon him was when he
arrived in London shortly after King William's death and saw you at the
age of eighteen going to open Parliament for the first time."
The Prince made a deep impression on the Emperor. Two men could not be
more unlike. The character of the one was crystal clear, and deeper than
it appeared--the character of the other was murky and mysterious, and
shallower than it seemed.
This must have been a season of great anxiety and sadness for the Queen.
The guns of Alma and Sebastopol echoed solemnly among her beloved
mountains. In her journal there is this year only one Balmoral entry--not
the account of any Highland expedition or festivity, but the mention of
an eloquent sermon by the Rev.
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