It was early in 1798 that the first book was stereotyped in England, and the Queen was the origin of this innovation--not that she had any idea of innovation. The facts are simply these:--The press had been teeming with productions offensive alike to virtue and religion. To protect both was an anxious object with the Queen. According to contemporary report, she procured from a German Lutheran divine (Freylighausen) his ‘Abstract of the whole Doctrine of the Christian Religion,’ and this she submitted to the judgment of Dr. Porteus, Bishop of London. The prelate, well pleased to see the State thus submissive or suggestive to the Church, read the pamphlet--not only read it, but approved of, and (as it was said, erroneously) translated it into English. He caused it to be printed in stereotype, and this translated book was the first volume that was ever so printed in England. With stereotyping, the name of Queen Charlotte should always be mentioned in honourable connection. The year 1798 was marked by the Irish rebellion, the national subscription for the exigencies of the state, and for the uneasiness felt at court at the standing toast of the Whigs--‘The sovereignty of the people!’ That and the following year were _the_ years of the Volunteer mania. The King and Queen were too happy to encourage this sort of enthusiasm; and, even in their retirement at Weymouth, the Volunteer reviews were among the most cherished of their amusements. They hoped they had reconquered the love of a people on whom the burden of war pressed heavily. They were at least not safe from popular fanaticism. On the 15th of May, 1800, the royal family attended Drury Lane Theatre, after a review in the morning. As the King entered the box, and was in the act of bowing to the audience, he was fired at from the pit. The Queen and her daughters were entering as the shot was fired; and the King kept them back with his hand, lest, as he said, ‘there might be another.’ After Hatfield, the assassin, had been secured and carried off, the King and his family sat calmly down, and witnessed the whole representation. This coolness was deservedly admired. On the return to the palace the King replied to a sympathising observation of the Queen, ‘I am going to bed with a confidence that I shall sleep soundly; and my prayer is that the poor unhappy prisoner who aimed at my life may rest as quietly as I shall.’ The other domestic incidents in the life of the Queen or King are not of sufficient interest to be worth the detail. We may make exception of one, however, which introduces us once more to the earnest and indefatigable Lady Huntingdon.