In addition to the negligence of the professed friends of the queen, we are sorry to say, that the ministers had prepared means, very demeaning, as

[[5]]well as perfectly unconstitutional. A covered boat was in waiting at the back of the hall, on the Thames, to convey the queen (if deemed needful) to the Tower; but, some persons of principle and property being aware of this abuse of power, many boats were upon the river, to render assistance, if required, to an insulted queen. Eight regiments of soldiers were in and near London, FIVE of which were THE DETERMINED FRIENDS OF THE QUEEN! Was it not rather a peculiar circumstance that Alderman Wood (who was in the procession of the lord mayor) was the loudest in his applause to the king? But, before we conclude this work, our readers will have no reason to be surprised at this conduct of the inconsistent and interested alderman. It was likewise very strange, that Lord Liverpool, the then first lord of the Treasury, was NOT PRESENT AT THE CORONATION! From whence was this unusual non-attendance upon the monarch to be attributed? Because Lord Liverpool, seeing the danger likely to result from the refusal of her majesty to the coronation, had advised the king to receive his consort. At first, his majesty consented, but shortly afterwards retracted his promise. Lord Liverpool, however, had caused this permission of his majesty for the queen's presence at the coronation to be made known to her, and a plan of the interior of the Abbey was enclosed at the same time, in which a seat was expressly ordered to be prepared for her majesty. We can positively assure our readers of the truth of this; for, two evenings previous to the

[[6]]coronation, we were sitting with one of her majesty's private friends, when the servant brought in a note, which that friend read with the greatest vivacity. It contained an assurance, that the king had consented to her majesty's being received at the banquet, and a plan was produced, exhibiting a seat, in which the queen and her attendants were to sit. Her majesty's impression was, we can confidently say, "That the Earl of Liverpool had advised the king to permit her to be received, in order to prevent ill consequences; for that, in case any riot should take place during the procession, the king might have been smothered in the crowd!" The Earl of Liverpool, however, had disobliged his majesty in the November previous, by abandoning the Bill of Pains and Penalties; but what else could he have done? If sentence had been passed against her, the mighty rush of public opinion would have probably overwhelmed the whole regal circle. Doubtless, Earl Lauderdale had given his royal master another version of the matter, as, from his representation, the king again refused to see his consort; in consequence of which, the most arbitrary measures were taken to prevent the appearance of the queen at the coronation. We must also place upon record that, on the 24th of the same month, Lord Lauderdale's honours (extra knight of the thistle, &c.) appeared in the Gazette, which were, no doubt, bestowed upon him for his avowed enmity to the queen.

We are sorry that Lord Hood, her majesty's only

[[7]]male attendant to the coronation, did not act a little more as became his duty to his royal mistress on this trying occasion. His lordship offered neither resistance nor remonstrance to the insult of refusing her majesty an admittance to the Abbey; but tamely, not to say cowardly, submitted to it, as he immediately led the queen to her carriage! Yet Lord Hood was a peer! but, gentle reader, he was also a—PENSIONER! We put the question to every honest-hearted Englishman, what force would have dared to oppose the queen's entry into the Abbey, if she had been properly surrounded and attended by her legal advisers and friends? Had such been the case, the "accomplished gentleman" would have met his injured, basely-treated wife, whose gaze must have brought a blush upon his guilty cheek. Such an unexpected visit had been contrary to his royally-fixed determination, as he then would have "met her in public."

The English character has ever been proverbial for morality, gallantry, justice, and humanity; though we cannot help thinking it suffered a little degradation when the queen was refused admittance to the scene of her husband's coronation. This, indeed, is a blot upon the annals of our country, which the stream of time will never be able to wash away. History cannot forget the conduct of the sovereign in this instance, who, when about to enter into a solemn compact with his people, and while calling the Omnipotent God to witness his faith and sincerity, "that he will most truly deal out justice, and love

[[8]]mercy, in his kingly station," at the same moment refused BOTH to his own wife! Let not such vindictive and disgraceful conduct be forgotten, when the taste and elegant manners of George the Fourth are extolled!

Amongst the gay throng of fawning courtiers that attended this ceremony was the Marquis of Londonderry, whose glittering appendages and costly array were of an unusual quality. Yet, gorgeous as was the sight, the absence of the queen rendered the coronation pomp an uninteresting scene of solemn mockery in its character, and an insulting imposition to the nation, who, while hearing the royal engagements made to them, nationally and individually, saw the first law of nature inverted by the very personage for whom this "mighty show" was designed. But are we not justified in supposing that George the Fourth possessed but a weak understanding, a frail heart, and strong prejudices, and that his judgment was perverted by bad counsel? Had his majesty been a sensible man, he would have perceived that all the advantages of his rank and station were conferred upon him by his fellow-men, and would not have squandered the national wealth upon unworthy characters. The title of king carries no such charm with it as to exempt its possessor from any of those infirmities which are incidental to his species; but he is doomed to drag about with him a frail tenement of clay, sometimes well and sometimes ill shaped, and liable every moment to be dissolved, and reduced to a state of putrefaction, in common with

[[9]]all those who contribute, by their labour, to its support. But how differently did George the Fourth consider his title and power at this period of his vanity! He concealed, as much as possible, the defects of his nature from "vulgar eyes," by exhibiting himself on a public stage, in borrowed plumes, like the jackdaw in the fable, who astonished his fellow-daws by assuming the gaudy plumage of the peacock. Thousands of weak mortals flocked about the royal actor, and expressed such extreme delight at the pageant scene, that we could hardly wonder to find him and his created nobles so inflated with pride as to consider themselves of a superior nature to the rest of mankind, and to believe that those who so much admired their external appendages were born to be their slaves. We deprecate such grovelling servility in the people as much as we pity the pride of the nobles. As well might a worm or a grub, when decorated with the ephemeral wings of a butterfly, look contemptuously on the crawling snail!

But a few years before the insult was offered to the queen at the coronation, her brother, the Duke of Brunswick, had fallen in the field of battle, while bravely fighting against Napoleon at Waterloo. Her majesty was now, therefore, bereft of every natural connexion, save her vindictive and cruel husband; and history hardly presents a more trying situation than that in which the persecuted and shamefully-treated Queen of England was placed.