In the summer of 1827, the old Duke died, and the Marquis and Marchioness of Huntly became the Duke and Duchess of Gordon. The hereditary influence of the Gordon family in other days was scarcely less than regal in the north of Scotland; and even at the time to which we refer, retained a strong element of clanship added to that of wealth and rank. Amidst the enthusiastic rejoicings of the numerous tenantry, the Duke and Duchess took possession of the noble castle. It had been called a “castle of felicity,” and nothing was wanting to make it so, if the good things of this life could satisfy the soul. The Duchess had learned how poor earth’s highest joys are in themselves. She therefore identified herself more with the people and cause of Christ. No balls were given at Gordon Castle during the nine years she was its mistress. In May, 1830, William IV. came to the throne, and his queen, the sainted Adelaide, selected the Duchess of Gordon as Mistress of the Robes at the coronation, and honoured her ever afterwards with her special friendship. This was a strong temptation to return to the world, and become a leader of fashion; but into the court, as into the ducal palace, she carried a simple, fervent exhibition of Christian principle. Most of her time, however, was spent at Gordon Castle, where she presided with queenly grace over the numerous and noble company always sure to be there. All things were ordered according to her own high spiritual ideal. In May, 1836, George, last Duke of Gordon, was suddenly taken from her side in London. The blow was heavy, but her sorrow was assuaged by the assurance that he slept in Jesus. So little was his death expected, that the Duchess had turned an ugly quarry into a beautiful garden, and was looking forward to the pleasure of driving her invalid husband thither, and winning a smile from his sick and weary face. But alas! he was carried past her blooming paradise in his coffin. The first year of the Duchess’ widowhood was spent on the Continent; after which she returned to Huntly Lodge, where she had spent her married youth. It now became a serious question how far she should continue to maintain the style and living of a Duchess. To have lived on a thousand a year instead of ten thousand would have saved her from many temptations, and spared her much money for the Church’s treasury. But having been numbered by the Lord in the rank of the “not many noble” that are called, she decided to abide therein with God. We think she was right. The light that shines through the cottage window will cheer and guide the lonely wanderer who happens to come within its narrow range; but the lamp on the lighthouse is seen far and wide, and directs thousands to the sheltering harbour.