action drew me to his side. Let me say
that it was mainly his and other friendships, precious to me beyond all
expression, that caused me to value my position here more highly than
any other that could be offered to me in this land. Nor is it for its
honour, though surely that is great, but for the strong personal ties
that bind me to it, that I now chiefly prize this place. You might not
credit me were I to tell you how lightly I value the honour of being
Faraday's successor compared with the honour of having been Faraday's
friend. His friendship was energy and inspiration; his 'mantle' is a
burden almost too heavy to be borne.

Sometimes during the last year of his life, by the permission or
invitation of Mrs. Faraday, I went up to his rooms to see him. The deep
radiance, which in his time of strength flashed with such extraordinary
power from his countenance, had subsided to a calm and kindly light, by
which my latest memory of him is warmed and illuminated. I knelt one day
beside him on the carpet and placed my hand upon his knee; he stroked
it affectionately, smiled, and murmured, in a low soft voice, the last
words that I remember as having been spoken to me by Michael Faraday.

It was my wish and aspiration to play the part of Schiller to this
Goethe: and he was at times so strong and joyful--his body so active,
and his intellect so clear--as to suggest to me the thought that
he, like Goethe, would see the younger man laid low. Destiny ruled
otherwise, and now he is but a memory to us all. Surely no memory could
be more beautiful. He was equally rich in mind and heart. The
fairest traits of a character sketched by Paul, found in him perfect
illustration. For he was 'blameless, vigilant, sober, of good behaviour,
apt to teach, not given to filthy lucre.' He had not a trace of worldly
ambition; he declared his duty to his Sovereign by going to the levee
once a year, but beyond this he never sought contact with the great.
The life of his spirit and of his intellect was so full, that the things
which men most strive after were absolutely indifferent to him. 'Give me
health and a day,' says the brave Emerson, 'and I will make the pomp of
emperors ridiculous.' In an eminent degree Faraday could say the same.
What to him was the splendour of a palace compared with a thunderstorm
upon Brighton Downs?--what among all the appliances of royalty to
compare with the setting sun? I refer to a thunderstorm and a sunset,
becaus