King," he speaks of "the pomp, the
dignity, and the many glorious circumstances which
accompany this matter and occasion," "being such as would _end anger the tempting_ of another man to swell a dedication to the bulk of a History;"
and dilates
upon "the boundless antiquity of the imperial descent," with the splendour, "both in war and peace," of the kingly progenitors of His
Majesty--not forgetting the "_series of miracles_," which he asserts to have been still following in that descent, and to have been specially "wrought in favour of His Majesty's life and government." "If I should presume to follow the impulse of my zeal,"

he adds, "I should _enlarge_ myself upon this theme; but being conscious, that it is as little
my faculty as it is my province, and that long importunities
from a subject to his sovereign are neither
good discretion nor good manners; I will
take care not to be needlessly troublesome, by being over officiously thankful," &c. This is modest enough for the introduction of a folio on the royal occupations of one day. The book describes the preparations for the coronation, the performances, and the subsequent claims arising out of the performances of the day: but it is as stiff and stately throughout as

in the dedication. Omitting no one Christian name of a dowager peeress, nor of any "individual person
who went in the grand proceeding," nor even of "such who _ought_ to have gone," it furnishes not a single personal anecdote

of the day, nothing that stirs our sympathies: the king is
a sort of demi-god, "most high,
most mighty, and most excellent," and
his nobles a number of well ordered automata moving round him. They speak all the day "out of a b