particularly designed to be so constituted, as to put them in a probable way of ending their days in the fear of God.

She was a perfect example of conjugal love, chastity and obedience. She set her husband's will before her as the rule of her life. Her admiration of him made her submission not only easy ⚫ but delightful; and it is remarkable, that when Dr. Tennison, named to be the archbishop of Canterbury, went to comfort the king, bis majesty answered, that he could not but grieve, since he had lost a wife, who in seventeen years, had never been guilty of any indiscretion.

"The openness of her behaviour was subject to universal observation, but under such regularity of conduct, that those who knew her best, or saw her oftenest, could never discover her thoughts further than she herself had a mind to reveal them; and this she managed so that no distrust was shown in it, nor distate given by it.

"She maintained sincerity so entirely, that she never once needed explanations to justify either her words or actions. As she would never deceive others, so she avoided the saying of any thing that might give them occasion to deceive themselves. And when she did not intend to promise, she took care to explain her meaning so critically, that fruitless hopes might not be conceived from general words of favour.

"Her age and her rank had denied her opportunities for much study, yet she had read the best books in English, French and Dutch, the three languages that were almost equally familiar to her.

She gave the most of her retired hours to the reading of the scriptures, and of books relating to them. Next to the best subjects, she bestowed most of her time in books of history, espe

cially of the latter ages, and particularly of her own kingdoms, as being the most proper to give her useful instructions. She had a great relish, as well as a great love for poetry, but loved it best when it was conversant about divine and moral subjects; and she would often express her concern for the defilement of the English stage.

"She had no relish for those indolent diversions which are too common consumers of most people's time, and which make as great wastes on their minds, as they do on their fortunes. If she used them sometimes, it was only in compliance with forms, because she was unwilling to seem to censure others with too harsh a severity. She gave her minutes of leisure with the greatest delightto architecture and gardening. She had no other inclination, besides this, to any diversions that were expensive; and since this employed many hands, she was pleased to say, that she hoped it would be forgiven her.' When her eyes were endangered by reading too much, and in all those hours that were not given to better employments, she wrought with her own hands, and that sometimes with so constant a diligence, as if she had been to get her living by it. It was a new sight (and such an one as was made by some the subject of raillery) to see a queen work so many hours in a day. But she used to say, that she looked upon idleness as the greatest corrupter of human nature; that if the mind had no employment given it, it would create some of the worst sort to itself. Her example soon wrought on, not only those who belonged to her, but the whole kingdom to follow it; so that it was become as much the fashion among the ladies of quality to work, as it had been formerly to be idle.

"She thought it a barbarous diversion, which resulted from the misfortunes, imperfections or follies of others; and she scarce expressed a more entire satisfaction in any sermon than in that of archbishop Tillotson, against evil speaking; when she thought some were guilty of it, she would ask them, if they had read that sermon?' which was understood to be a reprimand, though in the softest manner. She had indeed one of the blessings of virtue, that does not always accompany it, for she was as free from censures, as she was from deserving them.

"She received the intimations of approaching death, with an entire resignation to the will of God; and when in the closest struggle with the king of terrors, she preserved a perfect tranquility. The melancholy sighs of all who came near her could not discompose her. She then declared, 'that she felt the joys of a good conscience, and the power of religion, giving her support, which even the last agonies could not shake.' She received the sacrament with a devotion that inflamed as well as melted all who saw it; and then quietly concluded a life that had been led through a variety of incidents, with a constant equality of temper. To sum up all, she was a tender wife, a kind friend, a gentle mistress, a good christian, and one of the best of women.'

MARIE ANTOINETTE.

THE unfortunate Marie Antoinette, consort of the equally unfortunate Louis XVI. king of France, was sister to the late emperor of Germany. They were married while Louis was dau

phin; and, on their accession to the throne, were idolized by the people for that mild condescension of manners, which induced them to forego much of the etiquette of royalty, and mingle familiarly with their subjects. The queen, in particular, a beautiful young woman, the pride of the house of Austria, launched too precipitately into the vortex of pleasure, consulting less the dignity of her exalted situation than the vain gratification of a perpetual thirst after gayety and those frivolous amusements, which, in time, enervate the noblest hearts, and stamp the foundation of the sternest virtue. A momentous lesson this, to the sovereigns of Europe! who might expect similar effects to result from similar causes; and a no less salutary caution to the subordinate ranks of society who are not likely to escape unhurt, by the inordinate desire of seeking a meretricious felicity in those flowery paths of pleasure, where lurk the concealed serpents, whose deadly fangs have so unpityingly lacerated royalty.

How far this ill-fated queen was led to transgress the bounds of decorum, we have no materials on which we can rely, that enable us to judge. The fabrication of the many gross calumnies, published against her character, by the most depraved of the human species, bear internal evidence of the vileness and atrocity of their authors, whose detestable minds are capable of the most diabolical suggestions, and who are, therefore, not entitled to the smallest degree of credibility. In the relaxed morals of the court of France, and the feminine degeneracy and dissipation of the whole nation, we have, probably, the true causes of all the miseries with which that devoted country has been overwhelmed.

The queen certainly degraded herself, by emulating opera performers, and by suffering those to become her companions who were of reproachable characters. It is sufficient for virtue if she pities, but she ought never to countenance vice. It is probable, however, that a mere excess of good nature impelied the queen to associate with those whom she found it necessary to consult respecting her favourite fetes, and other trivial amusements. She sought to secure happiness for herself; she sought to diffuse it among the people; but unhappily she sought it not solely in that tranquil and retired path of domestic virtue, where all that is to be met with on earth can alone be found; in the pure affection of a beloved husband, and in the chaste endearments of a lovely and innocent offspring, trained up to piety and virtue. This seems to have been the grand errour of her life. She loved her husband, and she loved her children; but sought not in their society alone, her chief happiness.

There are various well authenticated anecdotes of the queen's feelings and humanity; of the many gross and indelicate charges against her, there seems no one positive proof. On her true character the page of the future historian must decide, when prejudices shall have been mowed down by the scythe of time; and when friendly pity for her sufferings, which must long fill every virtuous bosom, and render humid every eye, at the shocking recital, shall sufficiently subside, to yield truth the powers of giving the sad tale faithfully to posterity. In the mean time, we make no scruple to assert, that the charges under which both herself and her august consort were condemned to the ignominious death they so shamefully suffered, constituted the vilest mockery of justice that ever