It was on the 8th of September, 1761, that His Majesty, George the Third, espoused Sophia Charlotte, daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg Strelitz; and, on the twelfth of August, in the following year, she presented him with a son and heir, to his own great delight, and the universal joy of the British empire. Ineffable as is the contempt which is expressed at the present day, for the superstitious trust reposed in omens by the heathen ancients, yet nothing of any consequence occurs, without being attended by signs in which the Christian multitude discern either fortunate or disastrous predictions. It has thus been carefully recorded and handed down, that the birth of the royal infant happened on the anniversary of the Hanover accession, and that the same day was rendered trebly auspicious, by the arrival at London of wagons containing an immense quantity of treasure, the fruits of the capture of a Spanish galleon off Cape St. Vincent, by three English frigates. A few days after his appearance in this world, His Royal Highness was created Prince of Wales, by patent, and would have been completely crushed under the load of honours that devolved upon him, had their weight been of a kind to be physically felt; Duke of Cornwall, hereditary Steward of Scotland, Duke of Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, and Baron of Rothsay, were his other titles,--being those to which the eldest son of the British throne is born. There is no harm in this, perhaps, as things are constituted in England, but we have never been able to think of one of the titles to which the second son is heir, without feeling an inclination to smile;--the Duke of York is Bishop of Osnaburgh;--nothing more ridiculous than this, can be discovered even amid the nonsense that is inseparable from regal institutions;--born a bishop!