“First of all to his family--his venerable, loved, and honoured mother, his wife and large family of children--the loss of the good man is irreparable and overwhelming! But it is an irreparable public loss, and the Queen feels this deeply. To herself, personally, the loss of dear Dr. Macleod is a very great one; he was so kind, and on all occasions showed her such warm sympathy, and in the early days of her great sorrow gave the Queen so much comfort whenever she saw him, that she always looked forward eagerly to those occasions when she saw him here; and she cannot realise the idea that in this world she is never to see his kind face and listen to those admirable discourses which did every one good, and to his charming conversation again. “The Queen is gratified that she was able to see him this last time, and to have had some lengthened conversation with him, when he dwelt much on that future world to which he now belongs. He was sadly depressed and suffering, but still so near a termination of his career of intense usefulness and loving-kindness never struck her or any of us as likely, and the Queen was terribly shocked on learning the sad news. All her children, present and absent, deeply mourn his loss. The Queen would be very grateful for all the details which Mr. D. Macleod can give her of the last moments and illness of her dear friend. “Pray say everything kind and sympathising to their venerable mother, to Mrs. N. Macleod and all the family, and she asks him to accept himself of her true heartfelt sympathy.” The letter--one of the most remarkable ever written by a sovereign to and of a subject--is worth quoting, not only on account of its biographical interest, but as a model of sincerity, tenderness, and good taste exhibited in an order of composition usually disfigured by artificiality both of sentiment and style.