extraordinary, though true." "This match, we
are informed, was negotiated by a certain duke
and his cream-coloured parasite by way of
reward to Colonel Luttrell. It is now, happily
for this country, within the limits of possibility
that a Luttrell may be king of Great Britain."
The lady thus elevated to the title of Her Royal
Highness was the daughter of Simon Luttrell,
and the widow of Colonel Christopher Horton,
of Catton Hall, Derbyshire. Her father had
been created, in 1768, Baron Irnham, in the
peerage of Ireland, and was, after the alliance of
his family with royalty, raised to the dignity of
Earl Carhampton. Horace Walpole thus
describes the royal bride: "The new princess of
the blood is a young widow of twenty-four,
extremely pretty, not handsome, very well made,
with the most amorous eyes in the world, and
eyelashes a yard long—coquette beyond
measure, artful as Cleopatra, and completely
mistress of all her passions and projects. Indeed,
eyelashes three-quarters of a yard shorter would
have served to conquer such a head as she has
turned. I need not hint to you how unfortunate
an event this is at the present moment,
and how terribly it clashes with the situation of
another person whom I most heartily pity, and
whom I did all I could to preserve from falling
into so cruel a position."

The family to which this new duchess
belonged was in the worst repute. We have the
authority of Sir Robert Heron, Baronet, in his
published Notes, that "Lady Elizabeth Luttrell
resided with her sister, the Duchess of
Cumberland, played high, and cheated much. She
was commonly called the Princess Elizabeth.
On the deatli of her sister, in 1809, she was
thrown into jail; there she gave a hairdresser
fifty pounds to marry her; her debts then
becoming his, she was discharged. She went
abroad, where she descended still lower and
lower, until being convicted of picking pockets
at Augsburg, she was condemned to clean the
streets, chained to a wheelbarrow. In that
miserable state she terminated her existence by
poison."

The king, then, had from his brothers strong
provocation to the personal feeling with which
he urged the passing of the Royal Marriage
Act. But during the last ninety years great,
indeed, have been the changes for the better in
the tone of English society. In no class has
the improvement been more marked than in the
very highest, which the perpetuation of this
measure tends peculiarly to degrade.

The king's anger did not deter the Duke of
Gloucester from avowing as his consort the
Countess Dowager of Waldegrave, whom he
had previously espoused. That avowal was first
made in a letter from the lady to her father, a
letter worthy of an English wife:

                               St. Leonards, May 19th, 1772.

My dear and ever Honoured Sir,—You cannot
easily imagine how much every past affliction has
been increased to me, by not being at liberty to
make you quite easy. The duty to a husband being
superior to that we owe to a father, I hope will plead
my pardon, and that instead of blaming my past
reserve you will consider it commendable.

When the Duke of Gloucester married me
(which was in September, 1766), I promised him on
no consideration in the world to own it, even to you,
without his permission, which permission I never
had till yesterday, when he arrived here in much
better health and looks than I ever saw him; yet,
as you may suppose, much hurt at all that has
passed in his absence; so much so, that I have had
great difficulty to prevail upon him to let things as
much as possible remain as they are. To secure my
character, without injuring his, is the utmost of my
wishes; and I dare say you and all my relations
will agree with me, that I shall be much happier to
be called Lady Waldegrave, and respected as the
Duchess of Gloucester, than to feel myself the
cause of his leading such a life as his brother does,
in order for me to be called your royal highness. I
am prepared for the sort of abuse the newspapers
will be full of. Very few people will believe that a
woman will refuse to be called princess, if in her
power!

To have the power is my pride; and not using it
in some measure pays the debt I owe the duke for
the honour he has done me.

All I wish of my relations is, that they will
show the world that they are satisfied with my
conduct, yet seem to disguise their reasons.

If ever I am unfortunate enough to be called
Duchess of Gloucester, there is an end of almost all
the comforts which I now enjoy, which, if things go
on as they now are, are many.

Your most affectionate and dutiful daughter,
                                                                    M. G.

Her father, while enclosing a copy of it to
Horace Walpole, characterised the letter, "as
one of the sweetest samples of sense, language,
and goodness of heart, that I ever saw." His
brother avows that, until he read it, he had
withheld his approval, being too much of a
courtier to wound the pride of the king. He
thus describes his sensations on its perusal:
"I sent my brother word that I had been ready
to kiss his daughter's hand, but that I was now
ready to kiss her feet. It struck me with astonishment,
admiration, and tenderness, and, I confess,
with shame. How mean did my prudence
appear compared with hers, which was void of all
personal consideration, but her honour. What
proper spirit, what amiable concern for and
gratitude to her husband; what scorn of the
Duke of Cumberland, of rank, of malice, and
(at least implied) of the king and his power!
What sense in her conduct! I have always
thought that feeling bestows the most sublime
eloquence!" On the public announcement of
their nuptials, the two royal brothers and their
consorts were summarily banished from the
court.

The choice of Charlotte Sophia, a daughter of
the house of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, as a consort
for George the Third, did not exhibit a very
refined sense of female loveliness in those to whom
the selection had been confided. When the
intended bride saw the Duchesses of Hamilton and
Ancaster, two of the most brilliant beauties of
the day, who had been sent to accompany her to
England, conscious of the possession of no such
attractions, and abashed by the contrast, she