Whenever my father met with any foreign visitors of distinction, he was bound, sooner or later, to ask them about postal matters in their own country. The examined were of all ranks, from the King of the Belgians to Garibaldi, the Italian patriot, whom he met at a public banquet, and presently questioned as to the prospects of penny postage in Italy. Garibaldi's interest in the subject was but languid; the sword with him was evidently a more congenial weapon than the pen—or postage stamp. When, later, Rowland Hill told his eldest brother of the unsatisfactory interview, the latter was greatly amused, and said: “When you go to Heaven I foresee that you will stop at the gate to enquire of St Peter how many deliveries they have a day, and how the expense of postal communication between Heaven and the other place is defrayed.” To the year 1862 belongs a veracious anecdote, which, although it has no relation to postal history, is worth preserving from oblivion because its heroine is a lady of exalted rank, who is held in universal respect. In connection with the Great Exhibition of that year, whose transplanted building has since been known as the Alexandra Palace of North London, my father came to know the Danish Professor Forchammer; and, when bound for the Post Office, often took his way through the Exhibition, then in Hyde Park, and the Danish Section in particular. One morning he found the Professor very busy superintending a rearrangement of the pictures there. A portrait had just been taken from the line in order that another, representing a very attractive-looking young lady, which had previously been “skied,” might be put into the more important place. The young lady's father had not yet become a king, and the family was by no means wealthy, which combination of circumstances perhaps accounted for the portrait's former inconspicuous position. On my father's asking the reason for the change, Professor Forchammer replied that a great number of people was expected to visit that Section to-day to look at the portrait, and it was imperative that it should be given the best place there, in consequence of the announcement just made public that the original was “engaged to marry your Prince of Wales.” My father parted with great regret from Lord Clanricarde when the Russell Administration went out of office. His kindness and courtesy, his aptitude for work, his good sense and evident sincerity, had caused the “Secretary to the Postmaster-General,” after a service of nearly six years, to form a very high opinion of his chief.[222]