This eulogium is confirmed by several passages in Miss Clitherow's letters. The next extract is prefaced in her correspondent's MS. as follows:
'Of the King's last moments nobody had a better account to give than the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was with him, and who had it in his power to bear undeniable testimony to the affectionate and unwearying attentions of the Queen to the very last. Before His Majesty's funeral I had this confirmed to me by the Archbishop himself, who also told me that he had already seen the young Queen preside in three Councils with singular propriety, dignity, and decorum, adding much in praise of the good education she had received.'
Extract from the speech of the Archbishop (Howley) of Canterbury at a meeting of the Metropolitan Churches' Fund:
'I attended on our late Sovereign during the last few days of his life, and, truly, it was an edifying sight to witness the patience with which he endured sufferings the most oppressive, his thankfulness to the Almighty for any alleviations under his most painful disorder, his sense of every attention paid to him, the absence of all expressions of impatience, his anxiety to discharge every public duty to the utmost of his power, his attention to every paper that was brought to him, the serious state of his mind, and the devotion manifested in his religious duties preparatory to his departure for that happy world where we may humbly hope he has now been called. Three different times was I summoned to his presence the day before his dissolution. He received the sacrament first; on my second summons I read the Church Service to him, and the third time I appeared the oppression under which he laboured prevented him from joining outwardly, though he appeared sensible of the consolation I offered him. For three weeks prior to the dissolution the Queen had sat by his bedside, performing for him every office which a sick man could require, and depriving herself of all rest and refection. She underwent labours which I thought no ordinary woman could endure. No language can do justice to her meekness and to the calmness of mind which she sought to keep up before the King while sorrow was preying on her heart. Such constancy of affection, I think, was one of the most interesting spectacles that could be presented to a mind desirous of being satisfied with the sight of human excellence.'
William IV.—a good husband, a good father, a good King, a good friend—was indeed a happy contrast to the selfish, if more gifted, brother who preceded him on the throne. He was an eminently constitutional monarch, popular and patriotic. His reign was short, and, though not free from riot and disturbance, was mainly characterized by peace, retrenchment, and reform. Its social legislation included the Reform Bill, the abolition of slavery, the Factory Acts, the New Poor Law, and the Tithe Commutation Act, while the modest grant of £20,000 per annum was the first recognition by the State of its duty respecting the education of the people. At the same time, the Empire was expanding, the colony of South Australia was established, and its capital bore the name of the King's devoted and sympathetic consort.
Thus the first steps were taken in many important movements for the welfare of the people and the Empire, which, under his great and good successor, were supported and developed, and the way was made plain for the young Queen, to whom the nation looked with such well-founded hope, whose long and glorious reign has been so abundantly blest, and whose memory will ever be cherished with honour and respect.