I forgive her tell her that with my dying breath I forgive her for her cruel falsehoods." All who had an opportunity of seeing her Majesty were struck with the glorious trait in her character, that though her heart was evidently broken with the recollection of the deep injuries she had received, and though an indelibly strong image of the injustice of her enemies was always present to her mind, yet she never used a harsh or angry expression against any individual: she freely forgave them all, spoke of them in terms of pity, and even made allowances for their conduct on the score of the weakness and frailty of human nature.

This single circumstance speaks volumes to the angelic character of this great woman. The reader cannot have forgotten the horrid falsehoods, and cruel baseness of that chief of ingrates, Mademoiselle Demont, the sister of Mariette Bron. A more affecting scene can hardly be conceived than is here exhibited, at the death-bed of the Queen, with the sister of her bitterest enemy kneeling to receive this benign sentence of pardon and forgiveness, from the lips of the most illustrious, and yet the most ill-treated Queen in Europe! Mariette Bron had resided under the same roof with her royal mistress abroad; she had been witness to some of those very transactions alluded to by her sister on the Queen's "trial," and must have known the truth or falsehood of Demont's statements. Her Majesty must also have been perfectly conscious of the knowledge which this young woman possessed

Queen Caroline desiring. Mariette Bren to convey her forgiveness to Louise Domont.

of her guilt, had any guilt existed; yet she calls her to her bed-side, and with her dying breath, as it were, makes a last appeal to her, in confirmation of her innocence assuredly this was not the conduct of a guilty person!

On Monday night, her physicians seemed to consider her Majesty out of all danger: she was informed of their opinion, but insisted that they were mistaken, adding, she felt she was dying, and thought she should die before nine o'clock the next evening. It is not improbable that her Majesty then felt the symptoms of incipient mortification. She sent for Mr. Wilde, who was in attendance, and added a codicil to her will, relating to the place of her interment. Her first wish was to be buried in the same grave with her beloved daughter; but, added she, "I can have little hope that the government will grant this wish: I desire, therefore, to be buried in the same vault with my father and brother at Brunswick." When her Majesty had signed this codicil, she began to converse at considerable length with Mr. Wilde. The physicians, fearing that conversation might disturb her, wished to withdraw Mr. Wilde from the room, and that gentleman, from the same motive, was anxious to go, but her Majesty begged him to stay. "I thank my physicians," she said, "for their kind intentions: they mean nothing but what is right, but they do not understand my character. They think that it agitates me to talk of death: they are mistaken to me, who have little pleasure in the past, and no

prospect of future tranquillity in this life, it is a pleasure to contemplate my approaching death; and why may I not speak what I feel ?" All these observations were made with such sweetness of manner and such calmness of tone, as to make an impression never to be effaced from the minds of those who were present.

The night between Monday and Tuesday was passed without sleep, owing, it is believed, to that restless anxiety which usually accompanies the process of mortification. On Tuesday afternoon, about one o'clock, she again sent for Mr. Wilde and Dr. Lushington, and again conversed on her usual topics. Alluding to the few friends who had remained constant to her to the last, and for whom she expressed the most grateful regard, she took occasion to observe, that her adversaries had put in practice two ways of separating worthy people from her society: one was, to deter them from visiting her, by propagating the most atrocious calumnies against her and them: the second was, when they saw her surrounded by persons of honour, to endeavour, by anonymous letters, and all means in their power, to poison her mind against them. 66 Against the first mode of attack," said her Majesty, "I could have no help the second plan I soon detected, and therefore defeated." She then again adverted, with great regret, to her inability to bestow adequate compensations on her servants, or remembrances on her friends; but said their services and kindnesses were deeply written