ne which he describes--and, strange to say, by a disease greatly
analogous to the one which took from him _all_ that he loved best. In
the case of her adored, precious, perfect, and great husband, her dear
lord and master, to whom this Nation owed more than it ever can truly
know, however, the fever went on most favourably till the day previous
to the awful calamity, and then it was congestion of the lungs and
want of strength of circulation (the beloved Prince had always a weak
and feeble pulse), which at the critical moment, indeed only two hours
before God took him, caused this awful result. To lose one's partner
in life is, as Lord Canning knows, like losing _half_ of one's _body_
and _soul_, torn forcibly away--and dear Lady Canning was such a dear,
worthy, devoted wife! But to the Queen--to a poor helpless woman--it
is not that only--it is the stay, support and comfort which is lost!
To the Queen it is like _death_ in life! Great and small--_nothing_
was done without his loving advice and help--and she feels _alone_
in the wide world, with many helpless children (except the Princess
Royal) to look to her--and the whole nation to look to her--_now_ when
she can barely struggle with her wretched existence! Her misery--her
utter despair--she _cannot_ describe! Her _only_ support--the _only_
ray of comfort she gets for _a moment_, is in the _firm conviction_
and certainty of his nearness, his undying love, and of their eternal
reunion! Only she prays always, and pines for the latter with an
anxiety she cannot describe. Like dear Lady Canning, the Queen's
darling is to rest in a garden--at Frogmore, in a Mausoleum the Queen
is going to build for him and herself.

Though ill, the Queen was able to tell her precious angel of Lord
Canning's bereavement, and he was deeply grieved, recurring to it
several times, and saying, "What a loss! She was such a distinguished
person!"

May God comfort and support Lord Canning, and may he think in his
sorrow of his widowed and broken-hearted Sovereign--bowed to the earth
with the greatest of human sufferings and misfortunes! She lived but
_for_ her husband!

The sympathy of the many thousands of her subjects, but above all
their sorrow and their admiration for him, are soothing to her
bleeding, pierced heart!

The Queen's precious husband, though wandering occasionally, was
conscious till nearly the last, and knew her and kissed her an hour
before his pure spirit fled to its wort