power, so short a time since, was of equal magnitude with his crimes !' ' -Ib., pp. 71, 72.

Miss Burney was present on the second day of Mr. Burke's celebrated speech, which occupied four sittings of the court. The inexhaustible affluence of Mr. Burke's mind was never evinced to greater advantage than on this occasion. It was a vast field over which his excursive and impassioned intellect had to range. The wrongs of millions, the morality of nations, the honour of his country, the supremacy of law, were amongst the topics he had to discuss, and he proved himself equal to the perilous requirements of the case. Therefore,' said the orator at the close of his harangue, I impeach Warren Hastings of high crimes and misdemeanors; I impeach him in the name of the Commons House of Parliament, whose trust he has betrayed; I impeach him in the name of the English nation, whose ancient honour he has sullied; I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose rights he has trodden under foot, and whose country he has turned into a desert; lastly, in the name of human nature itself, in the name of both sexes, in the name of every age, in the name of every rank, I impeach the common enemy and oppressor of all!' The effect of this speech on her own mind is thus described in a conversation with Mr. Wyndham :

I told him that his opening had struck me with the highest admiration of his powers, from the eloquence, the imagination, the fire, the diversity of expression, and the ready flow of language, with which he seemed gifted, in a most superior manner, for any and every purpose to which rhetoric could lead. 'And when he came to his two narratives,' I continued, 'when he related the particulars of those dreadful murders, he interested, he engaged, he at last overpowered me; I felt my cause lost, I could hardly keep on my seat. My eyes dreaded a single glance towards a man so accused as Mr. Hastings; I wanted to sink on the floor, that they might be saved so painful a sight. I had no hope he could clear himself; not another wish in his favour remained. But when from this narration Mr. Burke proceeded to his own comments and declamation-when the charges of rapacity, cruelty, tyranny were general, and made with all the violence of personal detestation, and continued and aggravated without any further fact or illustration; then there appeared more of study than of truth, more of invective than of justice; and, in short, so little of proof to so much of passion, that in a very short time I began to lift up my head, my seat was no longer uneasy, my eyes were indifferent which way they looked, or what object caught them; and before I was myself aware of the declension of Mr. Burke's powers over my feelings, I found myself a mere spectator in a public place, and looking all around it, with my operaglass in my hand!'-Ib., pp. 119, 120.

The health of the king, which had hitherto been remarkably

robust, began to decline in the summer of 1788. A visit to Cheltenham was undertaken, in the hope of amendment, but the royal patient returned without improvement, and his disease gradually assumed a more alarming character. Miss Burney's notices of this subject are frequent, and full of painful interest, and we should be glad, did our space permit it, to transcribe largely from her pages. The fears of the royal household were not thoroughly awakened till October, 1788, on the 20th of which month our author records in her diary, The king was taken very ill in the night, and we have all been cruelly frightened; but it went off, and thank Heaven! he is now better."

A few days afterwards, we meet with the following, in which we begin to discern more obvious symptoms of the fearful malady which was besetting the royal sufferer:

'I had a sort of conference with his Majesty, or rather I was the object to whom he spoke, with a manner so uncommon, that a high fever alone could account for it; a rapidity, a hoarseness of voice, a volubility, an earnestness-a vehemence, rather-it startled me inexpressibly; yet with a graciousness exceeding even all I ever met with before it was almost kindness!

"Heaven-Heaven preserve him! The queen grows more and She alarms me sometimes for herself, at other times she has a sedateness that wonders me still more.

more uneasy.

Sunday, Oct. 26th.-The king was prevailed upon not to go to chapel this morning. I met him in the passage from the queen's room; he stopped me, and conversed upon his health near half-an-hour, still with that extreme quickness of speech and manner that belongs to fever; and he hardly sleeps, he tells me, one minute all night; indeed, if he recovers not his rest, a most delirious fever seems to threaten him. He is all agitation, all emotion, yet all benevolence and goodness, even to a degree that makes it touching to hear him speak. He assures everybody of his health; he seems only fearful to give uneasiness to others, yet certainly he is better than last night. Nobody speaks of his illness, nor what they think of it.

Saturday, Nov. 1st.-Our king does not advance in amendment; he grows so weak that he walks like a gouty man, yet has such spirits that he has talked away his voice, and is so hoarse it is painful to hear him. The queen is evidently in great uneasiness. God send him better! ****

During the reading this morning, twice, at pathetic passages, my poor queen shed tears. 'How nervous I am!' she cried; 'I am quite

a fool! Don't you think so?'

'No, ma'am!' was all I dared answer.

The king was hunting. Her anxiety for his return was greater than ever. The moment he arrived he sent a page to desire to have coffee and take his bark in the queen's dressing-room. She said she

would pour it out herself, and sent to inquire how he drank it. The king is very sensible of the great change there is in himself,

and of her disturbance at it. It seems, but Heaven avert it! a threat of a total breaking up of the constitution. This, too, seems his own idea. I was present at his first seeing Lady Effingham on his return to Windsor this last time. 'My dear Effy,' he cried, 'you see me, all

at once, an old man.'

'I was so much affected by this exclamation, that I wished to run out of the room. Yet I could not but recover when Lady Effingham, in her well-meaning but literal way, composedly answered, We must all grow old, sir; I am sure I do.'

'He then produced a walking-stick which he had just ordered. 'He could not,' he said, 'get on without it; his strength seemed diminishing hourly.'

He took the bark, he said; But the queen,' he cried, is my physician, and no man need have a better; she is my friend, and no man can have a better.'

'How the queen commanded herself I cannot conceive; but there was something so touching in this speech, from his hoarse voice and altered countenance, that it overset me very much.

'Nor can I ever forget him in what passed this night. When I came to the queen's dressing-room he was still with her. He constantly conducts her to it before he retires to his own. He was begging her not to speak to him when he got to his room, that he might fall asleep, as he felt great want of that refreshment. He repeated this desire, I believe, at least a hundred times, though, far enough from needing it, the poor queen never uttered one syllable! He then applied to me, saying he was really very well, except in that one particular, that he could not sleep.'-Ib., pp. 273-276.

The king's symptoms varied perpetually, so as to keep his family and attendants in continued suspense. The queen, remarks Miss Burney, is almost overpowered with some secret terror. I am affected beyond all expression in her presence, to see what struggles she makes to support serenity.' At length the worst fears of the royal family appeared about to be realized. The princes repaired to Kew, and everything betokened an alarming crisis.

'November 5th.-O dreadful day! My very heart has so sickened in looking over my memorandums, that I was forced to go to other employments. I will not, however, omit its narration. "Tis too interesting ever to escape my own memory, and my dear friends have never yet had the beginning of the thread which led to all the terrible scenes of which they have variously heard.

'I found my poor royal mistress, in the morning, sad and sadder still; something horrible seemed impending, and I saw her whole resource was in religion. We had talked lately much upon solemn subjects, and she appeared already preparing herself to be resigned for whatever might happen.

'I was still wholly unsuspicious of the greatness of the cause she had for dread. Illness, a breaking up of the constitution, the payment

of sudden infirmity and premature old age for the waste of unguarded health and strength, these seemed to me the threats awaiting her; and great and grievous enough, yet how short of the fact!

'At noon the king went out in his chaise, with the princess royal, for an airing. I looked from my window to see him; he was all smiling benignity, but gave so many orders to the postilions, and got in and out of the carriage twice, with such agitation, that again my fear of a great fever hanging over him grew more and more powerful. Alas! how little did I imagine I should see him no more for so longso black a period! * * *

'Soon after, suddenly arrived the Prince of Wales. He came into the room. He had just quitted Brighthelmstone. Something passing within seemed to render this meeting awfully distant on both sides. She asked if he should not return to Brighthelmstone? He answered yes, the next day. He desired to speak with her; they retired together. Ib., pp. 279-281.

O my dear friends, what a history! The king, at dinner, had broken forth into positive delirium, which long had been menacing all who saw him most closely; and the queen was so overpowered as to fall into violent hysterics. All the princesses were in misery, and the Prince of Wales had burst into tears. No one knew what was to follow-no one could conjecture the event.'-Ib., p. 284.

'November 6th.-I rose at six, dressed in haste by candle-light, and unable to wait for my summons in a suspense so awful, I stole along the passage in the dark, a thick fog intercepting all faint light, to see if I could meet with Sandys, or any one, to tell me how the night had passed.

When I came to the little dressing-room, I stopped, irresolute what to do. I heard men's voices; I was seized with the most cruel alarm at such a sound in her Majesty's dressing-room. I waited some time, and then the door opened, and I saw Colonel Goldsworthy and Mr. Batterscomb. I was relieved from my first apprehension, yet shocked enough to see them there at this early hour. They had both sat up there all night, as well as Sandys. Every page, both of the king and queen, had also sat up, dispersed in the passages and anterooms! and O, what horror in every face I met!

'I waited here, amongst them, till Sandys was ordered by the queen to carry her a pair of gloves. I could not resist the opportunity to venture myself before her. I glided into the room, but stopped at the door: she was in bed, sitting up; Miss Goldsworthy was on a stool by her side!

'I feared approaching without permission, yet could not prevail with myself to retreat. She was looking down, and did not see me. Miss Goldsworthy, turning round, said, "Tis Miss Burney, ma'am.' She leaned her head forward, and in a most soft manner said, Miss Burney, how are you?

Deeply affected, I hastened up to her, but in trying to speak, burst into an irresistible torrent of tears.

My dearest friends, I do it at this moment again, and can hardly write for them; yet I wish you to know all this piercing history right.

She looked like death-colourless and wan; but nature is infectious; the tears gushed from her own eyes, and a perfect agony of weeping ensued, which, once begun, she could not stop; she did not indeed try; for when it subsided, and she wiped her eyes, she said, I thank you, Miss Burney-you have made me cry-it is a great relief to me; I had not been able to cry before all this night long.'

'O what a scene followed! what a scene was related! The king, in the middle of the night, had insisted upon seeing if his queen was not removed from the house; and he had come into her room, with a candle in his hand, opened the bed-curtains, and satisfied himself she was there, and Miss Goldsworthy by her side. This observance of his directions had much soothed him; but he stayed a full half hour, and the depth of terror during that time no words can paint. The fear of such another entrance was now so strongly upon the nerves of the poor queen, that she could hardly support herself.

'The king-the royal sufferer was still in the next room, attended by Sir George Baker and Dr. Heberden, and his pages, with Colonel Goldsworthy occasionally, and as he called for him. He kept talking unceasingly; his voice was so lost in hoarseness and weakness, it was rendered almost inarticulate; but its tone was still all benevolence,— all kindness, all touching graciousness.

It was thought advisable the queen should not rise, lest the king should be offended that she did not go to him; at present he was content, because he conceived her to be nursing for her illness.

'But what a situation for her! She would not let me leave her now; she made me remain in the room, and ordered me to sit down. I was too trembling to refuse. Lady Elizabeth soon joined us. We all three stayed with her; she frequently bid me listen, to hear what the king was saying or doing. I did, and carried the best accounts I could manage, without deviating from truth, except by some omissions. Nothing could be so afflicting as this task; even now, it brings fresh to my ear his poor exhausted voice. I am nervous,' he cried; I am not ill, but I am nervous; if you would know what is the matter with me, I am nervous. But I love you both very well, if you would tell me truth; I love Dr. Heberden best, for he has not told me a lie: Sir George has told me a lie-a white lie, he says, but I hate a white lie! If you will tell me a lie, let it be a black lie!'

This was what he kept saying almost constantly, mixed in with other matter, but always returning, and in a voice that truly will never cease vibrating in my recollection.'-Ib., pp. 286-289.

The subsequent progress of his majesty's illness, with the alternations of hope and fear, of thrilling agony, and of temporary joy, to which the royal household were subjected, are detailed by our diarist with absorbing interest. The visitation was in itself sufficiently overwhelming, but there were political considerations which added to its poignancy, and greatly embittered the lot of the queen. Though Miss Burney passes over these points of the history as slightly as possible, enough is