“I am not accustomed to stand up in defence of those who are the possessors of crowns. But I could not sit here and hear that observation without a sensation of wonder and of pain. I think there has been, by many persons, a great injustice done to the Queen in reference to her desolate and widowed position. And I venture to say this, that a woman, be she queen of a great realm, or be she the wife of one of your laboring men, who can keep alive in her heart a great sorrow for the lost object of her life and affection, is not at all likely to be wanting in a great and generous sympathy with you.” The whole meeting responded to the simple, generous words, touching as they did the chord of universal human feeling. The Queen’s love for Scotland and the Scottish people has made it easier for her to take part in ordinary social life in the neighborhood of Balmoral than in the crowded whirl of London. She has taken part in the torch-carrying on Halloween, in gillies’ balls, in marriages and christenings in Scotland, and made herself one with her people there in all their joys and sorrows. Her faithful Scotch servant, John Brown, was for many years a familiar figure, in his Highland dress, behind the Queen’s carriage. He served her with tact and fidelity, which she rewarded with grateful and unstinted appreciation. He died in 1883. The last words in “More Leaves from a Journal of a Life in the Highlands,” are a tribute to his memory; while the book itself is dedicated, “To my Loyal Highlanders, and especially to the memory of my devoted personal attendant and faithful friend, John Brown.” She attended the funeral service held in his mother’s house on the occasion of his father’s death, and stayed with the widow to soothe and comfort her when the funeral procession left the house. Only the heavy rain prevented her accompanying the other mourners to the grave. It is no doubt the freedom from formality, the genuine simplicity of the life around her at Balmoral, which makes it congenial to the Queen. There the gayeties are really gay; the mournings are really sad, dignified, and solemn, and not a mocking travesty of pretended woe. One of the luxuries the Queen allows herself in Scotland is the building of what may be called “pic-nic” houses in attractive situations in the neighborhood. These are little more than cottages, only just large enough for the Queen, and one or two of her children, and the necessary attendants and servants, generally built in wild and rather inaccessible spots among the hills. One of these, Altnagiathasach, was built before the Prince Consort’s death. After her widowhood, the Queen felt she could not go there alone, and she built another at Glassaltshiel, the house-warming of which she celebrated in 1868. When the little festivity, with its reel-dancing and whiskey-toddy drinking, was over, the Queen’s Journal records, “The sad thought struck me that it was the first _widow’s