The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction | Page 7

to see that she both loves and respects
Prince Leopold, whose conduct, indeed, and character, seem justly to
deserve those feelings. From the report of the gentlemen of his
household, he is considerate, benevolent, and just, and of very amiable
manners. My own observation leads me to think, that, in his behaviour
to her, he is affectionate and attentive, rational and discreet; and, in the
exercise of that judgment which is sometimes brought in opposition to

some little thoughtlessness, he is so cheerful and slily humorous, that it
is evident (at least it appears to me so) that she is already more in dread
of his opinion than of his displeasure."
"Their mode of life is very regular: they breakfast together alone about
eleven: at half-past twelve she came in to sit to me, accompanied by
Prince Leopold, who stayed great part of the time: about three she
would leave the painting-room, to take her airing round the grounds in
a low phaeton with her ponies, the prince always walking by her side;
at five she would come in and sit to me till seven; at six, or before it, he
would go out with his gun to shoot either hares or rabbits, and return
about seven or half-past; soon after which we went to dinner, the prince
and princess appearing in the drawing-room just as it was served up.
Soon after the dessert appeared, the prince and princess retired to the
drawing-room, whence we soon heard the piano accompanying their
voices. At his own time, Colonel Addenbrooke, the chamberlain,
proposed our going in, always, as I thought, to disturb them."
"After coffee, the card-table was brought, and they sat down to whist,
the young couple being always partners, the others changing. You
know my superiority at whist, and the unfairness of my sitting down
with unskilful players; I therefore did not obey command, and from
ignorance of the delicacy of my motives, am recommended to study
Hoyle before my second visit there next week, which indeed must be a
very short one."
"The prince and princess retire at eleven o'clock."
We leave out the link in the narrative that connects this pleasant
description with the melancholy scene described in the following (for it
is written in a sad taste) and only add, that the most amiable and
beloved of women died within a month from the date of the above
letter.
"Popular love and the enthusiasm of sorrow, never towards greatness,
perhaps so real, saw in her a promised Elizabeth, and while yet she
lived it was a character which I should sincerely have assigned to her,
as that which she would most nearly have approached: certain I am that
she would have been a true monarch--have loved her people: charity
and justice, high integrity (as I have stated), frankness and humanity,
were essentials and fixed in her character: her mind seemed to have
nothing of subtlety or littleness in it, and she had all the courage of her

station."
"She once said, 'I am a great coward, but I bluster it out like the best of
them till the danger's over.' I was told by one of the members of the
council awaiting her delivery, that Dr. Baillie came in, and said in
answer to some inquiries, 'She's doing very well: she'll not die of fear:
she puts a good Brunswick face upon the matter.' She had a
surprisingly quick ear, which I was pleasantly warned of: whilst
playing whist, which being played for shillings, was not the most silent
game I ever witnessed, she would suddenly reply to something that the
baron or I would be talking of, in the lowest tone, at the end of the
room, whilst her companions at the table were ignorant of the cause of
her observations."
"I have increased respect for the Bishop of Salisbury, because he
appeared to have fully performed his duty in her education. She had, as
I have said, great knowledge of the history of this country, and in the
businesses of life, and a readiness in anecdotes of political parties in
former reigns."
"How often I see her now entering the room (constantly on his arm)
with slow but firm step, always erect--and the small but elegant
proportion of her head to her figure, of course more striking from her
situation. Her features, as you see, were beautifully cut; her clear blue
eye, so open, so like the fearless purity of truth, that the most
experienced parasite must have turned from it when he dared to lie."
"I was stunned by her death: it was an event in the great drama of life.
The return from Elba! Waterloo! St. Helena! Princess Charlotte
dead!--I did not grieve, I have not grieved half enough for her: yet I
never think