had she lived, would have been her Queen, and who was in many respects
her prototype. It is certain, I think, that Charlotte Augusta of Wales,
that lovely miracle-flower of a loveless marriage, blooming into a noble
and gracious womanhood, amid the petty strifes and disgraceful intrigues
of a corrupt Court, by her virtues and graces, by her high spirit and
frank and fearless character, prepared the way in the loyal hearts of the
British people, for the fair young kinswoman, who, twenty-one years after
her own sad death, reigned in her stead.

Through all the bright life of the Princess Charlotte--from her beautiful
childhood to her no less beautiful maturity--the English people had
regarded her proudly and lovingly as their sovereign, who was to be; they
had patience with the melancholy madness of the poor old King, her
grandfather, and with the scandalous irregularities of the Prince Regent,
her father, in looking forward to happier and better things under a good
woman's reign; and after all those fair hopes had been coffined with her,
and buried in darkness and silence, their hearts naturally turned to the
royal little girl, who might possibly fill the place left so drearily
vacant. England had always been happy and prosperous under Queens, and a
Queen, please God, they would yet have.

The Princess Charlotte was the only child of the marriage of the Prince
Regent, afterwards George IV., with the Princess Caroline of Brunswick,
Her childhood was overshadowed by the hopeless estrangement of her
parents. She seems to have especially loved her mother, and by the
courage and independence she displayed in her championship of that good-
hearted but most eccentric and imprudent woman, endeared herself to the
English people, who equally admired her pluck and her filial piety--on
the maternal side. They took a fond delight in relating stories of
rebellion against her august papa, and even against her awful grandmamma,