THIS chapter will be almost exclusively occupied by an event of the most gloomy character, which filled the nation with the deepest mourning. The young princess, the only heir in a direct line to the British crown, formed naturally an object of deep interest and solicitude to the British nation. Their welfare was deeply involved in the personal character which she might display; while the stability of the kingdom might materially depend upon the matrimonial connection into which she should enter. From the first she was a favourite of the nation; she was reported to display on all occasions a generous and affectionate disposition; and there was something in her whole demeanour frank, open, and English, which recalled the idea of Elizabeth, and inspired the hopes of a reign equally glorious and popular. The public, indeed, could not at once appreciate those marks of spirit and energy, which occasionally impelled her beyond that tranquil and passive sphere usually assigned to her sex in that high station. Some disappointment was at first

felt, in consequence of her determina→ tion to exercise, with regard to an union for life, the natural right of her sex, which the heir of a crown is usually supposed to forfeit. In a political point of view, the connection with the Prince of Orange appeared natural and eligible; and nothing was observed in his personal character and qualities, to render him an object of reasonable aversion. When, however, the actual choice was at last announced, it was acquiesced in with entire and general satisfaction. It is now admitted, even in a political point of view, to be more expedient than the rejected one, since its object could have no interest, and no ambition, that was not purely British. The result entirely justified the princess's discernment, and fulfilled all the most favourable omens which could be drawn from the circumstances under which the union took place. It appeared equally effectual in promoting the domestic felicity of this illustrious individual, and in preparing her for the high place to which she was destined. It was un

derstood, that the gentle influence of the husband had sensibly improved her excellent qualities; that it had pruned the exuberances of youthful spirit; and that it had led her into a train of study and reflection, eminently tending to qualify her to be the future Queen of Great Britain. Thus every thing inspired the nation with the highest hopes, and nothing appeared wanting to their satisfaction, except the prospect of an heir to perpetuate this illustrious line. Alas! their wishes seem. ed on the eve of being gratified, when this hoped for moment led to a result the most deplorable, and which buried in the dust all the hopes which they had been so fondly cherishing.

On the night of the 3d of November, the Princess first felt symptoms of illness, which were soon pronounced to be those of approaching childbirth. Messengers were immediately dispatched for Sir Richard Croft, the most eminent accoucheur in London, and for Dr Baillie, who was supposed to rank first as a general physician. The great officers of state, with the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Bishop of London, required by law as witness to the birth of an heir to the crown, were also speedily in attendance. During the whole of the following day, the labour proceeded slowly, but, it was supposed, favourably. In the course of the following night, as the wished for period was still delayed, Dr Sims was sent for, to be ready to aid Sir Richard Croft with his advice. The greater part of the next day was spent in the same manner; but towards evening the symptoms afforded the promise of a speedy termination; and at half past nine the Princess was delivered of a male child, but still born. Though much exhausted, she appeared otherwise composed and well; and the happiest presages were entertained of her recovery. But in a few hours a dreadful reverse took

VOL. X. PART 11.

place; she became restless and uneasy, and was seized with violent convulsions, which proved speedily fatal. The minor details, as well as the description of the funeral, will be found in the Chronicle, (App. p. 174-8.)

Those who had supposed that the sufferings and discontents of the nation had rooted out, or even sensibly weakened, the former attachment to the race of its kings, were completely undeceived at this sad crisis. Never, during any era of the most devoted loyalty, could stronger emotions be excited and testified. The public grief was universal, deep-felt, and absorbed for a long time every other sentiment. It was not the first time that the nation had seen their favourites consigned to an early tomb; but never had so many affecting circumstances been united as in this sad catastrophe: the present, accordingly, was beyond all former mourning. Even now, after their tears have flowed and are dry, her memory is still cherished with the most sacred regard. Happier, perhaps, in this one respect, than if she had lived to reign over a race so turbulent, restless, and full of umbrage; when, if her vigorous will had once come into collision with theirs, she might have enjoyed afterwards only a stormy and precarious favour.

The grief of the multitude has a strong tendency to be converted into rage; and in this instance an object was sought, on whom their indignation might be vented. The sufferers were the medical attendants, who were loudly denounced as having omitted remedial measures, which might have saved the illustrious victim. It was even stated as the opinion of many medical men, that so prolonged an illness ought to have been abridged by artificial delivery. Our own knowledge of the obstetrical art is much too limited to allow us to hazard even the most guarded opinion upon such a sub

ject. Persons apparently candid have supposed, that such a peculiar pressure of anxiety and responsibility, might paralyze in some degree those exertions which the occasion demanded, and might produce timidity in the adoption of those bold and decisive measures, which would not have been scrupled in an ordinary case. It is certain that Sir Richard's practice was extensively diminished; and the above suspicions seemed to derive new strength from the tragical event of his soon after committing suicide. It may be questioned whether the mental agitation which led to this fatal act was produced by reflection on his own conduct, or merely by the public odium, of which he found himself the object. Nothing material occurred during this year, relative to the rest of the royal family.

The King remained in that state of tranquil non-existence, which rendered him to the nation as though he were not. That he still lived, they were only reminded by the title of Regent applied to the actual administrator of sovereign power, and by a month

ly report of the physicians, which announced that he did not suffer, but that his disorder continued unabated.

The Queen, during this year, was exposed to several attacks of serious, and, in one instance, alarming illness, the forerunners, probably, of that which was destined at no distant period to prove fatal. This state of her Majesty's health afforded probably the reason of that absence from the illness of the Princess Charlotte, which created at the time a good deal of animadversion.

The Princess of Wales, having completed her tour in Barbary and the Levant, resided during this year at the Lake of Como, Milan, Munich, and other parts of the north of Italy, and south of Germany. During this period, several of the events took place which afterwards became the subject of those ample discussions, into which we shall not now enter. Her Royal Highness is said to have received with deep agitation the tidings of the death of her illustrious daughter, and to have several times fainted away.

11

FRANCE, at the commencement of the present year, presented still, to the rest of Europe, a subject of anxious contemplation. The neighbouring states timidly viewed this country as the crater of that mighty volcano, which had poured forth such wide desolation, and the ashes of which, yet warm, seemed every moment to threaten a new explosion. Those, on the other hand, who contemplated on a great scale the diffusion of liberty, and the improvement of society, viewed not without deep interest this effort to establish a representative government in the greatest and most central state of continental Europe. Amid the present enforced tranquillity, the elements of misrule were not eradicated. The waves of many successive revolutions continued to heave, and, on any rapid movement of the political machine, were liable to burst. The remembrance of mortal wrongs rankled in many hearts; every passion, every party, was in extremes. The royalist demanded nothing less than the restoration of monarchy, in all its ple

nitude; while a pure republic, or at least the constitution of 1791, was the call of their opponents. There was, besides, a secret and desperate band, who detested the Bourbon as opposed to the Napoleon dynasty, and would have restored, at every cost, the absolute power and military ascendancy of the latter.

These, however, rested their hopes of success upon plot and insurrection, and ventured not to shew themselves in the national assemblies, where open collision took place between the extremes of the royalist and popular parties.

Amid these conflicting elements, the king continued still to steer a prudent and moderate course. He opposed himself, above all, to the extreme violence of his own adherents, which, had it prevailed, would have tended, above any thing else, to shake the stability of the monarchy. This conduct was the more meritorious, since it was understood that the high royalists had gained over to their side the princes, Dukes d'Angouleme and Berry. The steady adherence, how

ever, of the king to this course, and the understanding that he had secured for it a majority in the new Chamber of Deputies, inspired a confidence unfelt before, in the permanence of the existing French government. This feeling was amply attested by the facilities experienced in negociating the large loan of 300,000,000 franks, (twelve millions sterling.) The greater part of this sum was understood to consist of British capital, particularly from the great houses of Baring and Hope. In reply to some strictures made by the British Opposition upon this subject, ministers declared that they had taken no concern in the transaction, and had interposed no pledge or security on the part of the British government. They had merely allow ed to British capitalists the natural right of employing their funds in the manner which they themselves might judge most advantageous. Another high proof of confidence was afforded to the French government by the mo narchs of Europe. By the last treaty they had established a right to maintain the army of occupation in France for the period of five years. An expectation was, however, held out, that it might be withdrawn at the end of three years, provided the situation of the country should appear to admit of such a step. Although only two years had yet elapsed, it was determined to withdraw 30,000 men, forming one-fifth of the army of occupation, 6000 of whom belonged to Britain. An unexpected journey of the Duke of Wellington to London caused at first some alarmı, which was soon dispelled, when it proved to be for the purpose of concerting this arrangement.

The first object which occupied the attention of the Chamber of Deputies, was the important and fundamental one of the law of election. All the interest was attached to two questions,

the first of which related to the qualifi cation of property required in the electors. This was fixed, in the law proposed by government, as it had been in the charter, at the payment of 300 franks, or twelve pounds, of direct taxes. This rate is certainly high; though it may be observed, that taxes of this description form a very large proportion of the French imposts; the land tax alone amounting to between eleven and twelve millions. The liberals, however, made an effort to reduce the qualification considerably lower. They represented the injustice of excluding all the poorer classes, a great part of whom they represented as forming the most virtuous and respectable part of the community. M. Cuvier, the king's commissioner, endeavoured to ridicule these extravagant panegyrics." If it be true," said he, "that every virtue has taken refuge among those who pay from twenty-five to fifty franks, we may congratulate ourselves on the possession of so many virtuous men. We may bless that subdivision of property, which has so greatly multiplied merit. But let us beware of corrupting these virtuous men, by exposing them to temptation. To give them a share in the elections would be involv ing them in fatal discords." This ar ticle passed finally without a division. The great stand was made by the high royalists on the second question, whether election should take place by one or two stages. The law proposed that all the qualified electors of a district should meet in the electoral college, and directly concur in the appointment of a member. The other party moved, that they should merely elect the electors, for whom a very high qualification was to be fixed, which would confine the privilege of direct nomination to persons of considerable fortune. The question was debated with the greatest vehemence; and the ministers supported with the utmost