“I have great satisfaction in conveying to you, by command of the Queen, her Majesty’s high appreciation of the prudence and zeal which you have displayed in opening a communication with Dr. Livingstone, and relieving her Majesty from the anxiety which, in common with her subjects, she had felt in regard to the fate of that distinguished traveller. The Queen desires me to express her thanks for the service you have thus rendered, together with her Majesty’s congratulations on your having so successfully carried out the mission which you so fearlessly undertook. Her Majesty also desires me to request your acceptance of the memorial which accompanies this letter.” [Illustration: THE QUEEN RECEIVING THE BURMESE EMBASSY.] In June the Queen had to mourn the loss of a highly trusted old family friend, Dr. Norman Macleod of Glasgow. He had been long ailing, and when at Balmoral, in May, the Queen at her last interview with him was so struck with his physical weakness that she insisted on his being seated whilst he was in her presence. Macleod’s influence as a courtier was built up partly on his ability as an eloquent pulpit orator, and his tact as a kindly, genial, shrewd, tolerant man of the world. He had genuine goodness of heart, and he had not only the supple diplomatic skill of the Celt, but the Celt’s inborn and honest love and reverence for rank and dignities. It was quite a mistake to suppose that his “flunkeyism” made him a _persona grata_ at Court. On the contrary, he was in the unique position of being a Royal Chaplain on whom the Queen could not confer any favour or dignity. She could not give him a richer living in the Church than the one he had obtained without her patronage, and as a Presbyterian clergyman he could never be suspected of intriguing for hierarchical rank when he approached the Sovereign. His disinterestedness, too, was well known, for it was to Macleod’s credit that during his long connection with the Court, though he was frequently entrusted with missions concerning matters of delicate family business, he never even asked for a favour either for himself or any of his relatives. When the vague rumour of his death reached the Queen she addressed the following letter to Dr. Macleod’s brother:-- “BALMORAL, _June 17, 1872_. “The Queen hardly knows how to begin a letter to Mr. Donald Macleod, so deep and strong are her feelings on this most sad and most painful occasion, for words are all too weak to say what she feels, and what all must feel who ever knew his beloved, excellent, and highly-gifted brother, Dr. Norman Macleod.