the name of his valet. In less than an hour his Majesty expired, without a struggle and without a groan, the Queen kneeling at the bedside, and still affectionately holding his hand, the comfortable warmth of which rendered her unwill-ing to believe the reality of the sad event.

Thus expired, in the seventy-third year of his age, in firm reliance on the merits of his Redeemer, King William the Fourth, a just and upright King, a forgiving enemy, a sincere friend, and a most gracious and indulgent master.

We subjoin another account of the last moments of his Majesty as transmitted by one of his immediate attendants.

On the evening Monday the 19th it was evident that the King was fast approaching his last moment. It must however have been some consolation to his faithful subjects, who we are waiting with the deepest anxiety for a true account of his Majesty's situation, to know that all the stories which had been so sedulously propagated about his having fallen into a profound lethargy, from which it has been difficult to awaken him, were pure and unadulterated falsehoods. Never at any period of his life had his mind been more serene, never had his intellect been more unclouded. There never was any difficulty in making his Majesty aware of any fact with which it was necessary that he should be made acquainted; and the anecdotes which have been published to the contrary derive their interest, not from their veracity, but from their utter want of it. His Majesty received the sacrament on the preceding day from the hand of his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, and those who are acquainted with the high character of that irreproachable prelate must be aware that no earthly consideration would have induced him to administer that holy rite of our religion to a man who was incapable of appreciating its value or of comprehending how dangerous it is to those who dare to receive it unworthily. The restlessness and pain which his Majesty suffered were the main causes of the exhaustion of his physical powers: but his mental faculties remained unimpaired, and his natural affections

appeared to gather fresh strength from the conviction with which his Majesty was impressed, that he should not long be permitted by an Almighty Providence to indulge them. In his waking moments-and they were many-his Queen and his children were seldom absent from his side, and when they were, it appeared as if there were something which his eyes desired to see, but in vain. Nor in this, might have been his mortal agony, were his thoughts confined to the welfare of his own family. The bulletins afforded satisfactory evidence that on all the public documents which had been transmitted to him for some days past he had considered, and when necessary signed; and the very morning preceding his death, so clear was the intellect which some individuals were pleased to represent as obtuse to the most vivid recollections of military glory, that he called for Sir Herbert Taylor to bring him as usual, his box of letters, and that he replied, on being informed that there was no box for him to open, "Oh, I forgot-this is Monday." To those who know how true-hearted an Englishman our sailor-King was, we need not explain that anything connected with the national glory of our country was likely to retain a place in his memory so long as his memory retained its powers. At one of the visits which his medical attendants paid him during the preceding week, he said, "Doctor I know I am going, but I should like to see another anniversary of Waterloo. Try if you cannot tinker me up to last over that day." His Majesty survived the recurrence of a day which is doomed to be as imperishable as any event can be in the records of time, and was fully alive to all its proud and ennobling recollections. He conversed freely upon that subject, and upon many others, in the intervals of ease which he occasionally obtained from the acuteness of his sufferings. His breathing was at once difficult and painful. With the consciousness that he had discharged the duties of his sphere, if not always wisely, still always conscientiously, and for what he deemed the best interests of his attached subjects, he was prepared to meet his fate with the cheerfulness which became a christian and a king.

At day-break on Tuesday, May 26th, it was announced to the public that one of the most excellent, the most patriotic, and the most British Monarch that ever sat on the imperial throne of these realms, was no more. William IV., the Sailor King, -and there are national associations which vibrate to every heart in those two simple words-William IV., the Reformerhe whose mere assent stamped on the wishes of a great people the force of irresistible commands, and made the prejudices of peer and peasant, of aristocrat and artizan, merge into one general and glorious feeling for the British common wealWilliam IV.,- he who evinced his most intimate and profound knowledge of the British character, by being at once the example and patron of all the social and domestic virtue,-William IV., he who taught this populous and intelligent community the necessity and value of obedience to the law by his own implicit and deliberate obedience to it as a subject-William IV., the good, the kind, the affable, the companion, and the commander of his people was now, alas! no greater than the meanest among them, save as he has illustrated the mighty power which an Almighty God intrusted to his care by deeds of mercy, wisdom, and well-regulated humanity and policy. The fitful fever of life, which too often terminates with the wisest and best in vanity, vexation, and disappointment, has with him come to a termination, which the most fortunate Sovereign in our history might envy, and which the wisest might strive in vain, during a much longer reign, to accomplish. He who, from the first moment of his reign, taught us that when he assumed the monarch he had not forgotten that he was man, has submitted to the common fate of mortality, and has gone amidst universal regret to that awful tribunal where princes and plebeians are equal, and where kings (to borrow an expression one of our poets) "only wear the crown of their own virtues."

The death of William IV., occurred between half-past two and a quarter to three o'clock, on Tuesday morning. To those who were witnesses of the acute sufferings of his Majesty at the early period of his complaint, it was matter of wonder