The second Duke of Wellington inherited a great talent for
reticence from his father, and did not succeed to his title
until he was forty-five. He had served in the army and in the
House of Commons without making his mark in either save by
conscientious attention to duty. In the House of Lords, however,
shortly after taking his seat, he delivered a speech revealing
such an intimate knowledge of public business, and of such
luminous good sense, as to occasion surprize. Among those who
congratulated him was “the candid friend” always present on
such occasions. This “candid friend” explained to the duke that
the latter had been generally regarded as a “colorless” man,
and congratulated him on disproving the charge. The duke made a
reply, applicable to many, saying, “If you had sat in the shade
of a great tree for almost fifty years very likely people would
have regarded you as colorless, too.”
George V, like the second Duke of Wellington, has for almost
half a century lived in the shadow of a great tree. From infancy
up to his twenty-seventh year he was in the second rank of
public interest. Not a negligible quantity, he yet could not
be, while the Duke of Clarence lived, conspicuous. Moreover,
he was wise to sink his royal personality in the discharge of
his duty as a naval officer. The British have peculiar tastes
and standards, and they do not altogether like to see a younger
member of the royal family very conspicuous in public affairs. A
“pushful” prince would be almost obnoxious to their traditions.
A royal general or a royal admiral must not lead too much, or
the old jealousy of militarism might crop out in the nation,
which licenses the existence of its standing army only from
year to year. Consequently George V, when Duke of York and
subsequently when Prince of Wales, may have been called upon to
dissemble, and he may yet demonstrate that his reputation as a
colorless man is due to the public inability to understand what
constitutes the spectrum of character.--Boston _Transcript_.
(1871)