^ wereengaged by these two gentlemen till the time when the painful business was concluded. The plumbers in the mean time soldered the lead coffin. Much praise is given to the undertakers for the- quiet manner in which they con veyed this coffin from London to Claremont. It passed along the road without exciting any particular attention, and arrived about 10 o'clock at Claremont, without the knowledge of Prince Leopold. The spectators of the last melancholy ceremony of shutting up for ever the mortal remains of the mother and the child, were the Baron Hardenbrooke, Sir Ro bert Gardiner, Col. Addenbroke, Lady John Thynne, Mrs. Campbell, Mrs. Lewis, Mrs. Cohenbourg, Sze. Every endeavour was made by the persons employed to finish their mournful oflice before II o'clock, because at that hour precisely every night Prince Leopold has visited the remains of his beloved Princess, and wept ever them previous to his retiring to his bed. Fortu nately their operations were finished before the cluck struck eleven ; so that when the Prince entered to pay his usual visit of solemn mourning, he was not shucked by any peculiar or strange appearance, there being only one coffin substituted for another. We are happy to may, that his Serene Highness is so much recovered in his bodily health, that it is not thotght necessary to issue any more bulletins ; but his grief is unabated. He attended Divine service yesterday, which was perform ed by Dr. Short, the sub-preceptor of the late Princess. He afterwards received visits from the Duke of York, Viscount Melville, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Mr. Canning. The Queen and Princesses remain secluded at Windsor Castle : they yesterday received a morning visit, from the Duchess of Gloucester. On Wednesday evening, at eight o'clock, the mortal remains of the Princess Charlotte and infant will be removed from the Lower Lodge, and conveyed to St. George's chapel. The Dean of Windsor (the Rev. 1)r. Hobart) and Prebendaries attended by the Choir, will seceive the body. The order of the procession will be nearly similar to that observed at the interment of the Princess Amelia. After the Dean of Windsor has read that part of 4he service before the interment, the body will -be, deposited in the vault, from whence a subterraneous passage is formed under the choir of Saint (Jorge'so Chapel, in which an aperture is nrule near. the- accent to the altar. This passage leads to the Roysl Dormitory, at the east end of the chapel. It is to the depth of 15 feet from the surface. The dimensions of the tomb are 70 feet in length, 28 in width, and 14 in depth. The receptacles for bodies on the aides of the tomb are formed by massive Gothic Columns, of an octagon shape, supporting a range of four shelves, each of which in the space between the two columns, will contain two bodies. The sepulchre will contain 81 bodies. From the columns springs a vaulted roof over the tomb. As all that relates to the life and character of the re gretted Princess is of peculiar interest, we give the following extract from the journal of the pious Bishop of London (Dr. Porteus), who visited her in her early years " Yesterday, the 6th of August, 1801, I paved a very plea sant day at Shrewsbury-house, near Shooter's hill, the resi dence of the Princess Charlotte of Wales. The day was fine, the prospect extensive and beautiful, taking in a large reach of the Thames, which was covered with vessels of various sizes and descriptions. We saw a goad deal of the young Princess ; she is a most captivating and engaging child ' • and, considering the high station she may hereafter fill, and most interesting and important one. She repeated to one several of her hymns with groat correctness and propriety ; and on hoeing told that when she went to South End, in Essex, (as she after wards did, for the benefit of sea-bathing], she would then be in my diocese, she fell on her knees, and begged by blessiug. I gave it to her with all my heart, and with my earnest secret prayers to God that she might adorn her illustrious station with every Christian grace; and that, Weyer she became the Queen of this truly great and glorious country, she might be the means of diffusing virtue, piety, and happiness, through every part of her dominions t" The followiug notice was yesterday posted up at the Mansion House:— " Mansion House, Nov. Is, 1817. " The Lord Mayor begs to inform the public, that the Mansion. house and Guildhall will be closed, and no business will be trans acted at either place on Wednesday next, being the day appointed for the funeral at her late ltoyal Highamas the Princess Charlotte of Wales. " The Lord Mayor does not presume to dictate to his fellow citi zens what line of conduct they should pursue, as he is persuaded they will do what is suitable on that melancholy (occasion. " H order of the Lord Mayor, (Signed) " FRAS. NOBLER." Meetings have been held in various parishes in the Metropolis, and resrlutions adopted, recommending itto the inhabitants to close their shops on the day when the remains of her Royal Highness will be interred ; we cannot but applaud this preceding, though we are almost persuaded it was unnecessary, as the public is left to themselves, would not fail to pay this last tri bute of respect to her whom they loved so well. The fatal intelligence has now reached the farthest part of the three kingdoms, and there is no part from o deich we Lave not received proofs of the deepest sor row. We 'lay a few of them before our readers. To every town mid village, to the palace and the cottage, so the peasant as well as the Peer, it has been as the *bro ke of thunder. No long illness had prepared the mind foe the fatal event. They heard of one day THE NATRINAL REGISTER. as. a Being frill.of health, and life, and joy, and the next as a corpse. The feeling manner in which some ,of the foreign, and almost all our provincial papers speak of tl event, does the writers much credit. The Bristol Obierrer of the ljth. cospresee itself thus . The c.slamity, whisk it wee last week our melancholy office tce announce to our readers, has overspread the nation with a funeral and imabating gloom. To speak of a whole people as litterally dissolved. in tears, might be deemed exaggeration ; nor will we say that we lament like the Egyptians, who, stricken by the Divine wrath. awoke in the morning, and found theism born dead in every house t yet der we no nune than justice to the public feeling, in recording that the death of the Princess Challouais a chasm in the great British family., which has impressed upon every countenance the mournful traces f a domestic affliction. Approaching to it, perhaps, was the sensation occasioned by the fall of Nelson at the moment of victory; the poignancy of our sorrow was then, however. mitigated by the reflec tion, that the hero bad died the death he most desired, leaving no thing of glory unachieved to himself, or his country ; but in the present more affecting instance, whilst the heart is painfully touched by the suddenness of a fat.: which has snatched front our hopes so taniable an object. in the plentitude of all earthly happines, our rea son seeks in vain for any topic of consolation. •• From these considerations, however, we turn with melancholy pleasure to the character of the departed object of our regrets; whie t circumstances had brought so fully before the public, and into such just appreciation , that one and all, with pride and exultation. hailed her as a genuine English woman. Her very failings e ere such, as not only to lessen our dutiful affection kir her, but to carry back our recollection to one of the highs periods of our history, and to lead us to compare her with the great British Queen. In common with Elizabeth, she possessed la sound and vigorous understanding, tweet Annum, and a lively wit ; but she also possessed qualities to which Elizabeth had no pretention—singleness of mind, openness of man ner, and the most gushing tenderness of heart that ever warmed A female breast. Her eye could beam with equal fires. whenever indioation, or a wine of injury, called forth the generous ertaitium of her lofty spirit; but unlike that of the haughty Quism, it was daily turned with. more- than woman's mildness,' upon objects of mrupassion. Elizabeth was cold, suspicious, unforgiving; Charlotte Augusta was affectionate, generous, confid ing. The one, could, upon occasion, be gracious; the other was in variaWy conciliating and full of benignity. In the late Princess there was no stately tondescension, no laborious affability ; but her natural goodness of heart was ever displaying itself in the most joyous elsulitions of a benevolence which rioted in the luxury of doing good. But a short time before her death: she has! declared that she was the happiest woman in the kingdom ; and she deserved to be so—for much of the haptiness she enjoyed.was but the reflection of that which she had herself diffnuaL" The effect produced by the intelligence at Glasgow is thus announced : " This city yesterday exhibited the most marked feeling of kind affiction and deep sorrow f u r our departed Princess, accompanied at times with a dubious apprehension lest the event should have an unfavourable effect upon the future destinies of the kingdom, Re mote as we arc in the; pin of the country from the scenes which her Royal !highness graced, we had no opportunity of witnessing that amiable condescension and those kind offices which won her the hearts of those around her ; but we can figure to ourselves a lovely young woman, endowed with every virtue, and with the most fusel eating manners, brought up with the expectation of ruling over a mighty Empire, and enjoying in fond imagination the happiness she was to Muse to her people ;—contemplating this picture, we we can enter into the feelings of her sorrowing friends, and consider ourselves as in some degree Involved in the calamity." - - - - In Ireland all party feeling subsided in contemplating the deplorable catastrophe.—The Dublin Evening Pent a paper remarkable for its political hostility, expresses itself in the following manner.— " Never, we arc minatied, had the jonmalg of the empires more melancholy task to perform than that which the decree of an inscru table Providence inflicts, in °rappelling them to announce the death of the Princes Chartotte of Wales. We do not lay claim to more feeling or sensibility than our contemporaries, but we certainly never put together an article with such a sinking of spirit as we feel at this moment The death, indeed, of this Princess is a circumstance which, whether considered as a Divine visitation upon the charities, and hopes, and prospects of domestic life, or as a more extended and awful dispensation upon a mighty and most powerful people, in the complete and peaceful possession, and in the ample exercise of all the attributes of empire and command, is such a one as must make an impression as general and as melancholy, as it i s lik e ly to prove lasting and eventful, even far beyond the period of the existing ge nsrauon. As • private Calamity there is no event, in the range of those sorrows to which human nature is devoted, so deeply calcu lated to bow down the heart with heaviness, and to impress upou the mind the absolute vanity of our frail existence. A young woman, is the early prime of life, and the possession, hitherto, of uninter rupted health and high spirits, snatched from her family and friends at that most interesting crisis, when it might reasonably be hoped she was about to augment her own happineui, and to bestow a pledge that would guarantee, as it were the permanence of the blessing upon herself and!upon them, is surely,withont contemplating any ex ternal adjunct, an affictlon that transcends the ordinary miseries which flesh is heir to."—Dublin Zvening Poo. The French Papers have expressed their feelings on this melancholy event, with a warmth which does them honour. The Journal de Debate which has taken the lead on this occasion, thus expresses itself on the I ltit : " The details which we have given in our article from London, on the premature and unexpected death of the Princess Charlotte. will be read with the most touching interest. There is in the calamities of the powerful of the earth something which speaks at once to the ima gination and the heart, and which does not allow us to remain insen sible to the spectacle of these great and august misfortunes. The re grets which they inspire are doubled, when, to the image of power swallowed up in the grave, is joined the idea of youth, grace, and beauty, cut down in their flower, brilliant hopes vanished, and a royal posterity buried at once in a single tomb. In this union of melan choly circumstances, pity, that common tie of humanity, annihilates distance, as limits, extinguishes recollections, and unites all sen timents. The mourning of one nation becomes that of all, and then more than ever they remember that they are brethren. " France will not then be insensible to a death which throws Eng land into such profound consternation. Naturally generous and feeling, Frenchmen will not see w ithout emotion the tears of a father and a husband. They will figure to themselves, not without a par ticipation in sorrow, that anguish of a Royal Family, that grief of a w:mle people, which has been manifested in a manner so universal and so striking. Never did attachment to the constitutional principles of a monarchy take a character at once more general and more w lcmn than on this sad conjunction. At the funeral sounds of the bells of St. Paul's all the ihhabitants of London spontaneously put on mourning; marks of grief and signs of mourning are impressed on the very journals that announced the fatal event; the theatres were dosed, and fasting and prayer auperseded profane amusements and public pleasures. Though in the days of prosperity power sometimes experiences in England contradictions and resistance, in those of mis fortune it only meets with consolation, with homage, and devoted loyalty. It is then that, every thing concentrated in its true affec tions, that nation feels only one wish—that of softening, by the free expre , nons °fits sentinzehts, the soUow of the chiefs whom it pieces its glory in obeying." Nov. 17. FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. FRANCE. c) HANSEN OP DEPUTIES.--ROYAL PITTING /OR ONIXIING THE Skint/II or 181/. A discharge of artillery announced the arrival of the Kim' at the foot of the peat stair ease. A deputation of 12 Peeps, and 23 I)eputies, having at their head M. Angles, President by seniority, went to id ceive his i‘lajesty, and to eonduet him to the stt pa of the Thione, conformably to Amide 3d of the Regulation of the 1311 i of August, 1814. The unanimous cries of Via c Ic Roi t vivcnt fey Itonrhons ! filled all parts of the Hall, where an immense crowd of specta tors had collected at nine o'clock in the mornitig. Fureigaers of rank filled the nibiane of the diplomatic (-tops. The King took his place on the Throne, He was surrouaded by Monsieur, the Duke of Berry, and the Duke of Orleans, seated on the folding chairs to the right atufleft. ` Prince Talley ramie, the Grand Chamberlain, and the Mar ts de fireuxhreze, Grand Master of the errenumies, occu pied the Pisces assigr , ed for them. hl.lfainbrai, the Chan cellos, stood before his anti-chair. The Marshal and Minister of State canoe in separately, and occupied the liner steps ma each side of the Throne. The Peers of France placed in the four first ranks of tiro,. lar benches, n ere ranged aectirtiling to the Royal Ordinance of the 2iiii of August last, according to their retkpecti‘e ranks, of Dukes, Marytisses, Counts, VI scontits, and Barons. The Duchess of Angook , nic, and the Duchess of Berry, were present in a private Tribune. . . The King having ordered the Peers, and permitted the Deputies. through the Chancellor, to be seated ; a profound silence reigned in the Assembly. His Majesty saluted the Assembly uncovered ; and having put oil his hat again, proutomerd with a full and penetrating voice, the following Speech : " GENTLEMEN,—At the openinz of the last Session, I spoke to you of the hopes inspired by the mat riage of the Doke dc Berry. none!' Pros idence has too suddenly withdrawn the gift it bestowed, yet, we behold in it as. surances of the future Acomplishment of our wishes. " The Treaty with the Holy See, which I mentioned last year, has since been concluded. I have desired my .Ministers, ill communicating it to you, to propcse the project of a law, necessary to give the legislative sanction to such of its con ditions as may be susceptible of it, and to Illake it in unison with the shorter, the laws ofthe kingdom, and those privileges or the Gallican Church, the precious inbet Ranee of our fa thers, of which St. Louis and all his successors were no less jealous than of the happiness of their subjects. " The harvest of iBl6, by its deficiencies, frustrated, in a great degree, my hopes. The sufferings of my p eo pl e h ave afflicted my heart. I have, however, beheld with emotion, that almost everywhere they have endured them with a de. pee of touching fortitude ; and if, in sonic places, they have broken out into seditious acts, order was soon re-cata. bibbed. In order to mitigate the misfortunes of that period, I have found it necessary to mak- great efforts, and extra. ordinary pecituiary sacrifices. The details will be presented to you, and the zeal with which you are anianisteil fur the public good, will not permit me to doubt that these unfore seen expences will have your sanction. The harvest of this year is more satisfactory; but, on the other band, some lo- cal calamities, and the blights which have fallen upon the vineyards excite my paternal solicitude for privations which, without your co-operation, I cannot relieve. " I have ordered that the budget of the current charges should be submitted to you. If the expences resulting from treaties, and from the deplorable war they have terminated, will not permit any immediate diniwnition of the taxes voted in preceding Sessions, I have at least the satisfaction of thinking, that the economy I have prescribed will preclude the necessity of any augmentation, and that a vote of credit, inferior to that of theism Session will suffice for all the wants of the vear. " The conventions which I signed in 1815, presenting results which could not then be foreseen, have rendered a new negociation necessary. Every thing leads me to hope that its issue will be favourable, a n d t h at con di t i ons f a ; above our means, will be succeeded by others more con formable to equity, to moderation, and to the possibility of sacrifices, which may people support with a constancy that can add nothing to my love for them, but which give them new claims to my gratitude, and to the esteem of all nations. - - - - - " Thus, as I had the happiness of announcing to you in the course of last Session, the expences arising from the Army of Occupation are diminished a fifth, and the period is not far distant, when we may be permitted to hope, thanks to the wisdom and energy of my Government, to the love and con fidence of my people, and to the friendship of my Allies, that our country will resume among nations the rank and renown due to the valour of Frenchmen, and their noble character in adversity. " To attain this end, I shall more than ever require a unan imity between the people and the throne ; that vigour, with out which authority is powerless. In proportion as that au thority is strong, will be the diminished necessity of its be coming austere. The manner in which the depositories of my power have used, what the laws have entrusted to them, justifies my confidence. However I feel great satisfaction in announcing to you, that I do not consider it requsite to me thane the Prevotal Courts beyond the term fixed for their existence by the i4W which created them. " I have digested, conformably to the Charter, a law for recruiting. I wish that no privileges should be sought; that the spirit and dispositions of that charter, our true compass which calls all Frenchmen indiscriminately to offices and em ployments, should not be illusory, and that the soldier should find no other limit to his honourable career, than those of his talents and of his services. If the exeention of Ibis salt,. tary law should demand an augmentation in the Budget of the War Minister, yon, as the interpreters of the sentiments of my people will not hesitate to sauction arrangements which secure to France that independence and that dignity, 'W ont which there can be no King nor nation. " I have detailed to you difficulties, and the measures they will require, in conclusion, I shall direct your attention to ob jects of a more engaging description.— Thanks to the peace restored to the Chinch of France. Religion, that eternal basic of all felicity, even on earth, will, I doubt not, flourish amongst us ; tranquillity and confidence begin to rclappear ; public credit is strengthening itself; agriculture, commerce, and industry resume their activity ; new master pieces of Art excite admiration. One of my children is traversing, at this moment, a part of the kingdom, and in retort) fur senti ments too deeply engraven on labs heart, and manifested by hisconduct, he is every where greeted with benedictions ; while I, who have but pne feeling, the happiness of my peo ple, who ans desirous, he their good alone, of that authority