We also took the Queen's sympathy with us, in our great national- bereavement, too much as though it were something quite super-royal, if not superhuman. It was the exquisite wording of those telegrams which touched, melted our hearts; but we should have been neither surprised, nor overcome. It was beautiful, but it was natural. _She_ could not have said less, or said it differently. It was very sweet of her to send that floral offering, known and dear to us all as "the Queen's Wreath," but she sacrificed no dignity in so doing, as her flowers were to lie on the coffin of the ruler of a great empire--a ruler who had been as much greater than an ordinary monarch as election is greater than accident. Of course, as the Queen is the most interesting personage in all England, the least little things connected with her have an interest which Americans can hardly understand. In a handsome semi-official work called "A Diary of Royal Events," I find gravely related the story of an Osborne postman, who once lent the Queen and Prince Albert his umbrella, and was told to call for it at the great house, when he received it back, and with it a five-pound note. I see nothing very note-worthy in this, except the fact, honorable to humanity, of a borrowed umbrella being promptly returned, the owner calling for it. The five-pound note, though, was an "event" to the postman. A few concluding words about the Queen's children, who with many grandchildren "rise up to call her blessed." Victoria, the Crown Princess of Germany, is a fine-looking woman, with the same peculiarly German face, "round as an apple," which she had as a child. She is very clever, especially in art, and her character, formed under her father's hand, very noble. The Prince of Wales is a hard- working man in his way, which means in many ways, for the public benefit- -industrial, artistic, scientific and social. The people seem bent on making him true to his old Saxon motto--"_Ich dien_" (I serve). He is exceedingly popular, being very genial and affable--not jealous, it is said, of his dignity as a Prince, but very jealous of his dignity as a gentleman--and that is right; for kings may come, and kings may go, but the fine type of the English gentleman goes on forever. No revolution can depose it; no commune can destroy it--it is proof against dynamite. A handsome man is the Duke of Edinburgh (Prince Alfred), who no longer follows the sea, but is settled down in England, with his wife, a daughter of the late Czar, who testified by this alliance his wish to let Crimean "by-gones be by-gones"--till the next time, at least. The Duke resembles his father in his love for and cultivation of music. There does not seem to be any opening for him to play a part like that of Alfred the Great, but he can probably play the violin better than that monarch ever did. They drew another sort of a bow in those old days.