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WAR and rumours of war,—nation rising against nation,—these fulfilledand yet threatening disasters have culminated in the worst disaster ofall, the “passing” of the greatest, purest, best, and most blamelessMonarch in our history. England’s Queen is dead! The words sound asheavily as though one should say, “The sun is no longer in the sky!”Strange indeed is it to think of England without the Mother-Queenof the great British people;—to realize4 that she, the gentle andbeneficent Lady of the Land, has left us for ever! We had grown tothink of her as almost immortal. Her goodness, her sympathy, wereso much part of ourselves, and were so deeply entwined in the veryheart and life and soul of the nation, that we have seldom allowedourselves to think of the possibility of her being taken from us.Always apparently “well,”—never permitting her subjects to think therewas anything the matter with her,—bearing bravely such trials andbereavements as would have broken down the health and nerve of manya stronger and younger woman, she was always as it seemed, ready toour call. We,—spoilt children of long-favouring fortune,—had grownaccustomed to believe she would5 always be thus “ready,”—that ourconstant prayer and chant which all we in our generation have sungsince we were children—“God Save the Queen!”—would be so potent andpersuasive as to altogether disarm the one invincible Angel who, whenthe hour of his solemn visitation comes, will take no denial, but

Thither she has gone, the great Mother of a great people; a peoplegrowing out like their own English oaks, far and wide, taking broadroot, and spreading mighty branches in all lands,—just as her newEmpire of the South has been affixed like another jewel to her crown,she has put off the earthly6 diadem and robes of earthly state and has“passe

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