Kov. 27. 1852.] 



NOTES AND QUERIES. 



505 



quotation from Weever, altbougli he refers to the 

 original, is evident, by the quotation beginning 

 and ending precisely as mine, and containing the 

 same mistakes, in copying Weaver's obsolete 

 si^elling. 



I have two cogent reasons for bringing' this 

 subject before the readers of " N. & Q." 



In the first place, it appears exceedingly desir- 

 able to cultivate a more generous spirit among 

 those who are engaged in the same field of litera- 

 ture. Nothing, in my opinion, is lost in the long 

 run by a candid and generous reference, not only 

 to the author's name, but to his specific work, 

 from which the writer is quoting or derivmg valu- 

 able assistance ; and, if extracts from documents 

 or other authors are copied second-hand, reference 

 to the originals should be given as cited in such a 

 ■work. 



In the next place, I wish to inquire whether 

 there is any means of restraining plagiarism, be- 

 yond the mere censure of reviewers, who fre- 

 quently fail to detect the offender. 



W. Hastings Kelke. 



THE SISTER OF GEORGE III. 



Adopting the suggestion of J. Md., as to " waifs 

 ■snd strays " which are occasionally found in the 

 sea of newspaper print (Vol. vi., p. 385.), I send 

 you the following interesting cutting from The 

 Times of January 27, 1852, which I think ought 

 to be transferred to the pages of " N. & Q." : — 



" The Sister of George III. — The official journal of 

 Copenhagen of the 1 7th instant gives an interesting 

 document, hitherto unpuhlished, the original of which is 

 in the secret archives of the State of Copenliagen. It 

 is the letter which Queen Caroline Matilda, wife of 

 Christian VII., King of Denmark, wrote during her 

 exile, and on the day of her death, to her brother, 

 George III. of England. The letter is as follows : 



•' ' Sire, — In the solemn hour of death I address my- 

 «elf to you, my royal brother, in order to manifest to 

 you my feelings of gratitude for the kindness you have 

 shown me during my life, and particularly during my 

 long misfortunes. I die willingly, for there is nothing 

 to bind me to this world — neither my youth (she was 

 then in her twenty-third year) nor the enjoyments 

 which might sooner or later be my portion. Besides, 

 can life have any charms for a woman who is removed 

 from all those whom she loves and cherishes — her 

 husband, her children, her brothers and sisters? I, 

 •who am a queen, and the issue of a royal race, I have 

 led the most wretched life, and I furnish to the world 

 a fresh example that a crown and a sceptre cannot pro- 

 tect those who wear them from the greatest misfortunes. 

 I declare that I am innocent, and this declaration I 

 •write with a trembling hand, bathed with the cold 

 sweat of death. I am innocent. The God whom I 

 invoke, who created me, and who will soon judge me, 

 is a witness of my innocence. I humbly implore Him 



that He will, after my death, convince the world that 

 I have never merited any of the terrible accusations by 

 which my cowardly enemies have sought to blacken 

 my character, tarnish my reputation, and trample under 

 foot my royal dignity. Sire, believe your dying sister, 

 a queen, and, what is still more, a Christian, who with 

 fear and horror would turn her eyes towards the next 

 world if her last confession were a falsehood. Be as- 

 sured I die with pleasure, for the wretched regard death 

 as a blessing. But what is more painful to me even 

 than the agonies of death, is that none of the persons 

 whom I love are near my death-bed to give me a last 

 adieu, to console me by a look of compassion, and to 

 close my eyes. Nevertheless, I am not alone. God, 

 the only witness of my innocence, sees me at this mo- 

 ment, when, lying on my solitary couch, I am a prey 

 to the most excruciating agonies. My guardian angel 

 watches over me : he will soon conduct me where I 

 may in quiet pray for my well-beloved, and even for my 

 executioner. Adieu, my royal brother ; may Heaven 

 load you with its blessings, as well as my husband, my 

 children, England, Denmark, and the whole world ! I 

 supplicate you to allow my body to be laid in the tomb 

 of my ancestors ; and now receive the last adieu of your 

 unfortunate sister. Caroline Matilda. 



"' Celle (Hanover), May 10, 1775.'" 



Phuip S. Kikg. 



CAMPBELLS imitations. 



The adoption, whether unconscious or Inten- 

 tional, of other men's thoughts and modes of ex- 

 pression, continues to receive much varied illus- 

 tration in the pages of " N. & Q." Instances of 

 it, under the heads of " plagiarisms," " parallel 

 passages," " borrowed thoughts," " poetical coin- 

 cidences," " similarities," " imitations," &c., have 

 been adduced and commented upon by your cor- 

 respondents. The following are a few samples 

 from the poet Campbell, which I do not remember 

 to have seen noticed elsewhere. 



The first is a line in the Pleasures of Hope : 



" And Freedom shriek'd as Kosciusco fell." 



which has been taken from the following passage 

 in one of Coleridge's sonnets : 



" O what a loud and fearful shriek was there ! 



Ah me ! they view'd beneath an hireling's sword 

 Fallen Koskiusco." 



The next occurs in the opening stanzas of the 

 same poem : 



" Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, 

 Whose sun-bright summit mingles with the sky ? 

 ' Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, 

 And robes the mountain in its azure hue." 



Garth has the same idea in the following couplet : 



" At distance prospects please us, but when near 

 We find but desert rocks and fleeting air " 



