INTRODUCTION. Ar the period of his birth, WILLIAM THE FOURTH had but a remote prospect of succeeding to that proud inheritance, the crown of his royal ancestors, which he subsequently wore for the happiness of his people. But, from this precise circumstance he enjoyed the advantage of having the foibles of his boyhood, the indiscretions that were characteristic of his robust youth, less known, less published, and therefore less misunderstood, than those of his illustrious predecessor. His infancy was watched with the anxious solicitude of a virtuous mother; his education directed and conducted by men eminent alike for piety and learning; and his transit through his Ephebia, though not hitherto recorded in the annals of his country, was accomplished in a manner peculiarly appropriate to the scion of an Island-king, that is, within the "wooden walls" of his country. His early biography is inseparably associated with the naval annals of Great Britain, the youthful prince having shared in some of the boldest exploits, and most brilliant victories, won by British courage and seamanship, during the eventful reign of his royal Father. The fortitude, skill, heroism, and devotedness of British seamen, he had frequently witnessed; and in speaking of the dangers undergone by his countrymen in their struggles for the empire of the ocean, he might have adopted the beautiful language of Troy's wandering prince : "Quorum pars magna fui quæque ipse miserrima vidi.” Passing from the rank of a disciplined, brave, and accomplished sailor, the Prince entered upon a life of privacy and seclusion, during which period few of his actions transpired beyond the sphere of his personal acquaintance, or were known without the limits of his peaceful dwelling. In this enviable position, he exhibited the same gentleness of manner, benevolence of disposition, easiness of approach, and genuine philanthropy, which marked the character of the youthful sailor, the honoured prince, and the humane senator. Of the sanguinary measures adopted by the policy of George the Third's reign, the dismemberment of the British empire by the amputation of America, Prince William was wholly guiltless. To those suggestions in which originated our national debt, of which numeration is now almost inadequate to convey a distinct notion, he was no party. He was of too tender an age to have recommended those aggressions in which he afterwards personally assisted, for maintaining the honour of his country, and acquiring those accessions of territory, which retaliation, or national self-defence, rendered absolutely necessary for the well-being of the state. Unconscious of his approaching destiny, the future King beheld one monarch led to the scaffold of death, and the rich diadems fall from the brows of others. He heard the children of enthusiasm exclaim, "The throne we honour is the people's choice;" he felt that "the laws he reverenced were his brave father's legacy." Still he remained, like the proud and stately ship that "walks the waters like |