gold frame, surmounted by the royal crown; is a half-length, fourteen
inches long and ten wide, done in enamel, by Tilb, a London artist, and is
the largest miniature of the kind ever attempted in England. It has been
deposited, along with the gold box containing the freedom of the city of
London, in a vault in the Institute at Peabody; also the gold box from the
Fishmongers' Association, London; a book of autographs; a presentation
copy of the Queen's first published book, with her autograph; and a cane
which belonged to Benjamin Franklin.

We have only tried to draw within a small canvas a portrait of her as
'mother, wife, and queen.' She has herself told the story of her happy
days in her Highland home, to which we have already alluded; nor has she
shrunk from letting her people see her when she went there after all was
changed, when the view was so fine, the day so bright--and the heather so
beautifully pink--but no pleasure, no joy! all dead!' But she found help
and sympathy among her beloved Scottish peasantry, with whom she could
form human friendships, unchilled by politics and unchecked by court
jealousies. They could win her into the sunshine even on the sacred
anniversaries. One of them said to her, 'I thought you would like to be
here (a bright and favoured spot) on his birthday.' The good Christian man
'being of opinion,' writes the Queen, 'that this beloved day, and even the
14th of December, must not be looked upon as a day of mourning.' 'That's
not the light to look at it,' said he. The Queen found 'true and strong
faith in these good simple people.' It is pleasant, to note that by-and-by
she kept the prince's birthday by giving souvenirs to her children,
servants, and friends.

She who years before, during a short separation from her dear husband, had
written, 'All the numerous children are as nothing to me when he is
away--it seems as if the whole life of the house and home were gone,'