able, especially with the great mass of the people. We have already, in some of our former volumes, adverted to the circumstance, that the splendid, unexpected, and unparalleled successes by which the prince regent's reign has been distinguished, have not tended to render him popular. We state a fact, which we believe none will be disposed to deny, how ever they may lament it; that the prince regent, during the very height of our successes against Bonaparte, was viewed with indifference by the people. There seem to us to have been several causes that co-operated to produce this indifference, even with those who were not disposed to believe any of the calumnies that were propagated against him: he was, in fact, not sufficiently British in his manners, habits and mode of life. We have already pointed out the circumstances in the king's character and mode of life, which rendered him popular, and the recollection of which still cherishes in the public mind a respectful and warm attachment towards him. The prince's character and mode of life have none of these British features: hence he has little hold, as a man, on the prejudices or the feelings of the nation; and as a sovereign, not being supposed to have contributed to the successes of his reign, the merit of those successes is not ascribed to him. Indeed, even his ministers are not generally regarded to have brought about, by their wisdom and foresight, the wonderful issue of the long and arduous contest in which Britain was engaged. By a strange and almost inexplicable anomaly of judgement, the opposition have lost their hold on the public confidence, because they predicted an unfavourable termination to the war; whereas, the ministers rose very little in the scale of popularity, though they urged perseverance in the contest, and guided the counsels of the nation when that perseverance was crowned with success. If ministers, therefore, did not obtain much popularity by the issue of the war, it is not surprising that the prince regent did not, through it, become popular. No circumstance affords a more direct or stronger proof of the consequences that may be produced by a charge against a public individual, founded on some truth, and much falsehood and exaggeration ; and supported on the one side by a full knowledge of popular prejudice and feeling, while it is met and rebutted on the other, by an ignorance of, or disregard to, that prejudice and feeling,-than the proceedings with respect to the duke of York and Mrs. Clarke. So strong and general was the expression of the public opinion, that the duke was guilty, that ministers were obliged to yield to the threatening storm; and the duke retired from the office of commander-in-chief. Some new public events occurred, that filled the thoughts of the nation; the case of the duke was in some measure forgotten; or it was seen that his accusers were by no means honourable persons; and as they lost their hold on the popularity of the nation, the duke's misconduct was disbelieved or palliated. The ministers, taking advantage of these circumstances, replaced him in the situation of commander-in-chief. Scarcely any notice was taken of this step; the impression seemed to be, that the duke had not been so guilty as had been supposed, and that his guilt had been been sufficiently punished. All acknowledged that he was uncommonly attentive and punctual in the discharge of his official duties; he was a great favourite with the army, not merely with the soldiers, but with all their relations, on account of the extreme attention that he paid to their interests, representations and requests. Hence he may now be regarded as rather a popular member of the royal family. With respect to the other royal dukes, the feelings of the nation are various. The name of the duke of Clarence is seldom heard. The dukes of Kent and Sussex have rendered themselves extremely popular, by giving their countenance and support to most public institutions, the object of which is to instruct or relieve the poorer classes. Thus being seen among the people, and acting with them, this very circumstance tends strongly to create an impression in their favour. The duke of Cumberland is not popular: the dislike to him, except among those who permit their feelings towards public men to be warped and exasperated by every unfavourable report, without examining into its accuracy and evidence, is very vague and general. But we apprehend that his general appearance, and in particular his manner of dressing, are not such as can ever do away dislike in those who have once entertained it against him, or command attachment and respect with the great mass of the nation; which always looks for a compliance, even with British prejudices, in their princes. Of the duke of Cambridge little is known, he having lived chiefly abroad; but the correctness of his general conduct, especially his not being extravagant, and not having incurred debt, raise up pleasing impressions whenever his name is mentioned or recalled. The king's nephew, the duke of Gloucester, especially since his marriage, has become extremely popular: the domestic life, from which he and his duchess seem to derive their greatest pleasure; the attachment that subsists between them; and their frequent appearance in public without parade or ostentation, have contributed principally to their popularity. The attention and interest of the nation were deeply fixed on the princess Charlotte of Wales from her earliest infancy. The unfortunate difference between her father and mother, and their consequent separation, rendered it probable that she would be the future sovereign of these realms; while this circumstance, thus depriving her in a great measure of a mother's fond and watchful attention, by rendering her an object of commiseration, increased the warmth of the sympathy which the nation felt in her. As she grew up, her hold on the public feeling and attachment increased. She was known to possess a lofty and independent mind; and though in some instances she might be led to do those things which were not deemed strictly and entirely compatible with the rigid duties which a child owes to its parents; yet ready excuse was found in her youth, in the natural character of her mind, and in the trying circumstances in which she was placed. Her attachment to her mother, her defence of that mother, in the days of her greatest trials, proved that she was by no means destitute of filial affection, or a proper sense of filial duty. She was known to possess considerable talents, and to have cultivated those talents, with more attention to the acquisition of solid and and useful knowledge, than females in general, and particularly females in high rank, usually bestow. Her political principles were truly sound and constitutional; leaning-as it is always desirable that the principles of a British sovereign should do-to those principles which placed the house of Brunswick on the throne. When she became of a marriageable age, the nation were naturally desirous that she should marry: but as the marriage of princes is seldom the result of personal affection, or mutual personal knowledge, it was merely hoped that after her marriage she and her husband would inspire each other with that degree of attachment, that would render them as happy as princes usually are in their married state. The prince of Orange was intended for her husband by her father; but she did not feel for him that affection which she knew to be indispensably necessary to happiness in the married state, and without which she had most wisely resolved she would not unite herself to any man. She knew that her marriage was looked forward to, by the nation, with great interest; but she was resolved that no public or political consideration should induce her to sacrifice that happiness, which as a human being, endowed with a warm and affectionate heart, she was conscious that she was susceptible of enjoying; and she met her reward-though that reward did not abide long with her. When the emperor Alexander and the king of Prussia were in this country, they were attended, among other German princes, by the prince of Saxe-Cobourg. The princess Charlotte and he met frequently, they were mutually pleased with each other: and after she had per suaded her father not to press her marriage with the prince of Orange, she mentioned to him the prince of Coburg as the man with whom she could be happy. Her father, much to his credit, acceded to her wishes, and she was married to the man of her heart. It was soon seen that the princess and her husband were admirably suited to each other; and that they both were of those habits, that were certain not only of rendering them happy, but justly popular with the whole nation. Instead of living in London, in the midst of the bustle, parade, and dissipation of high life, they spent their whole time at Claremont: the pleasures of domestic and rural life, enjoyed in the company of each other, filled their souls: they felt no other want. By their conduct to each other, they brought into exercise all the finest and highest feelings of the human heart: their time was spent in visiting, instructing, or relieving their poor neighbours; for they did regard the poor as their neighbours. Not treating them with that marked condescension, which in the one party springs from a consciousness of superiority, and in the other party impresses a disagreeable feeling of inferiority; but treating them as their fellow-creatures, whom it was in their power to benefit or relieve, and whom to benefit or relieve constituted one of their purest and most abundant sources of happiness. They also formed each other's minds, as well as purified each other's hearts, by communicating that instruction which each mutu ally needed or could bestow. Such was the life of the royal pair at Claremont :-they enjoyed more domestic happiness,they were more warmly attached to each other, they were more rational, as well well as more benevolent and useful to their fellow-creatures, in their whole conduct, than is generally the case even among that class in middle life which is generally supposed to rank highest in happiness and usefulness. As she advanced in her pregnancy, the anxious interest of the nation increased; they anticipated a new source and object of the warm and holy feelings, with which both the princess and her husband had shown that they abounded. It was not merely towards an heir to the throne that the nation looked forward; they were filled with hopes that the princess might have a living child, because they firmly believed that the duties of a wise father and mother would be discharged by her and the prince; and the feelings of an affectionate father and mother, while they gave exquisite pleasure to their own breasts, would be poured down on their beloved infant. When the intelligence of her being in labour arrived in London, it was easy to read in every eye, and in the expression of every countenance, the anxious expectation with which every breast was filled: yet no one anticipated evil. All were prepared to burst forth into congratulations, as soon as the expected event took place; preparations were made for public rejoicing; and never would it have been more general and sincere. The first circumstance that damped the public joy was the intelligence that the princess was brought to bed of a still-born child. Even in the midst of the disappointment of the hopes of the nation, the thought-the exclamation was,• What must the poor princess feel!" The nation felt for her much more than for themselves. Soon, how ever, they felt for themselves: the mother did not long survive her infant! It is utterly impossible to describe the appearance of the me tropolis on this occasion; no words can exaggerate it; it must have been witnessed to be believed.Whoever witnessed it, must have been convinced that the grief was real and sincere;-that it had fast hold of the heart;-that it was a grief overwhelming, in the suddenness and violence of its shock. Every one looked and felt, as if he had lost a wife, a daughter, or a sister. The circumstances of her death ;-a princess in the prime of life and glow of health;-most happy in her husband;-fondly anticipating her own and his increased happiness in the birth of a living child;-disappointed in this hope, and before she could well bring herself to credit the reality of her loss,-herself a corpse. The day of her funeral was indeed a day of woe; even those whom the sanctity of the sabbath cannot keep from riot and debauchery, were awed or chastened into decorum and solemnity on that day. The whole nation threw itself on its knees before its Maker; and perhaps religious feelings were never so deeply and sincerely experienced. But the nation also sympathized with the bereaved husband; and the inquiries after his health, and how he supported himself, were as eager and anxious as if he had been each man's brother. Though a melancholy, it was a proud day for Britain; for it displayed those feelings in her sons, that cannot exist except in connection with a warm heart, and real worth of character. What a lesson may princes derive from this! Can they doubt, after they have witnessed witnessed the popularity of the princess Charlotte and her husband, and the grief occasioned by her death, that they also may become popular; not by dazzling the public eye by their splendour, but by a simple and unostentatious manner of life, which shall fix the public attention and interest, only by its being a happy life, and contributing to the happiness of others? Such reflections will not be deemed out of place by those who have considered the nature of the feelings with which the people of this country are accustomed to regard their kings. With the good and wise, loyalty is a virtue, for it is felt by them with a strength proportioned to the worth of its object. Never in this land was a good prince defrauded of his just glory never was a bad prince beloved. Here a king has no need to look to the voice of posterity. His own age pronounces judgement upon him; and though that judgement may be modified, it is irrevocable. The soul of the nation looks back to its noblest kings for the support of its own virtues; nor should we now have been rational lovers of monarchical power, had we not had illustrious names to gaze upon, which give a cor.secration to our loyalty. So feel we now towards her who is dead. Had she died in all the beauty of her youth-in all the glory of her high estate, aye, even under those awful circumstances, which to think of is agony, yet had she not been pure and pious, kind, generous, and of a lofty mind, our tears would indeed even then have flowed, but they would soon have been dried up, and our grief would then only have been the grief that is due to mortality. But we can compare our dead princess with our sisters, or our wives, or with those to whom we may be betrothed. And while we do so, it will be with a deeper love towards the living, breathed from the virtues of the dead. Perhaps the hearts of some were kept at a distance from her, when in happiness she walked through the groves of her greatness. But we are all her friends now. The distinctions of society are forgotten; and we are privileged by nature to embrace her in the grave. We image her now not on the throne of England, where we hoped she was to sit,-not with the diadem round her forehead, which it would have so well become, not with the robes of royalty, which she would have worn with such queen-like stateliness, but we call on her from the damp and dripping vault-from the cold coffin and the motionless pall; and in the silence that comes back upon our hearts, we feel how profound was our love for her, the good, the beautiful, and the pious. When we think on her as she was, without exaggeration, we feel what we have lost. There is no conceivable limit to the power over the mind, character, happiness, virtue, and exaltation of a people, which may be in the reign of a monarch high of soul, and whom the hearts of that people love. In war and in peace-in his own court, and in every home-in the proud spirit of the illustrious of the land-in the joy of genius-in the gladness of soul of common men-in the sub. lime confiding consciousness of good-in ways unknown and unimaginable, will the influence of that one spirit spread itself over the earth. There was something, indeed much, of this promise to the people of our land, and in their grief there was the feeling and understanding of such good lost. The attachment we bear to her father, and |