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with a cowl all over, only two holes to see through left. Some of them were all black, others red, others white, others party-coloured ; these were continually coming and going with their tapers and crucifixes before them; and to each company, as they arrived and knelt before the great altar, were shewn, from a balcony at a great height, the three Wonders, which are, you must know, the head of the SPEAR that wounded Christ; St. Veronica's handkerchief, with the miraculous impression of Christ's face upon it; and a piece of the true cross, on the sight of which the people thump their breasts and kiss the pavement with vast devotion !"

In these travels of Mr. Gray, we meet with a compliment paid to his own country. He had been pourtraying the beauties of an Italian prospect.“ Mr. Walpole says our memory sees more than our eyes in this country. This is extremely true, since, for realities, Windsor or Richmond-HILL is infinitely preferable to Albano or Frescati.” It is impossible not to be pleased when we meet with comparisons made with so much advantage to our little Island. And to me it is the more gratifying, when those very spots are eulogised which I have pointed out as being so delightful, in the course of these letters. After the above flattering manner in which Mr. G, notices them, I shall not be accused of laudatory exaggeration.

Mr. Gray describes the delight and astonishment with which he beheld the ruins of Ancient Rome.



at which he and his two sons were present. They are good fine boys, especially the younger, who has the more spirit of the two, and both danced incessantly all night long! For the FATHER, he is a thin illmade man, extremely tall and awkward, of a most unpromising countenance, a good deal resembling Jumes the Second, and has extremely the air and look of an idiot, particularly when he laughs or prays; the first he does not often, the latter continually! He lives private enough with his little court about him, consisting of Lord Dunbar, who manages every thing, and two or three of the Preston Scotch Lords,, who would be very glad to make their peace at home !"

As to these Sons of the Pretender, it may be remarked, that the one became a Cardinal, and the other, called the Chevalier, (only four years afterwards;) made an attempt, in Scotland, 1745, to recover for his father the crown of these kingdoms. He seized the City of Edinburgh; penetrated with his little army as far as Derby, within one hundred miles of the British metropolis ; beat the King's troops twice at Preston Pans and Falkirk, but was entirely defeated at Culloden, near Inverness, April 16, 1746, with tremendous slaughter, by the Duke of Cumberland. It is rather remarkable, that both these heroes were Kings' sons, and each in the 26th year of his age! The young Pretender (as he was termed) hid himself, suffering incredible hardships, for some months in the Western Isles of Scotland, and though £20,000 was offered for his apprehension, he escaped



to the Continent, where he finished his days, in 1788, at an advanced age. A portrait of PRINCE CHARLES, in the Culloden Papers, has not given him a prepossessing physiognomy; but his character and conduct during the Rebellion, 1745, secured to him, especially among his followers, high admiration. His brother, the CARDINAL, died since, and with him the Stuart Family are extinguished. As he was poor, a pension was allowed himn by the British Government, and our Prince Regent generously raised a monument to his memory! Thus finished the race of the Stuarts, a series of monarchs peculiarly unfortunate ; but who, it is confessed, though they abused their prosperity, shone with a more than ordinary lustre amidst the darkness of adversity. From their fate let MONARCHS learn that the affection of the people is the only firm basis of their thrones'; thus will their names, encircled with the purest glory, descend to posterity !

The letters of Mr. Gray are accurately descriptive of the customs and manners of both the ancient and modern inhabitants of Italy. In one of his epistles he gives an account of a visit into the country, after the manner which HORACE would have adopted on the occasion. And by another epistle, describing the objects at Naples and in its vicinity, the lover of Virgil will be gratified through the recognition of places mentioned in his immortal writings. Indeed, Mr. Gray's mind was profusely stored with classic lore; a kind of golden vein is seen to run along,



enriching and enlivening all his communications, whether made in prose or poured forth in poetry.

These classical travellers now turned their faces homeward, and retraced their steps to Reggio, where differing they parted. Mr. Gray embarked at Venice, and passing along the Alps, through France, soon reached England. Dissimilarity of temper occasioned the separation. The one, from his earliest years, curious, pensive and philosophical; the other, gay, lively and inconsiderate. Mr. Walpole afterwards honourably took the blame to himself, and in the year 1744, by means of a lady who wished well to both parties, a reconciliation was effected;

Soon after MR. GRAY's return to England his father died, when his mother and aunt retired to Stoke on a small competency. Here they lived with their sister, Mrs. Rogers, who had lately become a widow. His friend West died next year, which he felt severely, as appears from the following Sonnet on his de


In vain to me the smiling mornings shine,

And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire;
The birds in vain their amorous descant join,

Or cheerful fields resume their green attire.

alas! for other notes repine,
A different object do these eyes require,
My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine,

And in my breast th' imperfect joys expire!
Yet morning smiles, the busy race to cheer,

And new-born pleasure brings to happier men ;



The fields to all their wonted tribute bear,

To warm their little loves the birds complain :
I fruitless mourn to him that cannot bear,

And weep the more because I weep in vain!

DR. YOUNG observes, that the death of friends comes over us like a cloud,” but then he adds, that deceased friends resemble "pioneers, who smooth the way and lead our thoughts to heaven !” This tender sentiment is happily expressed by a living bard

And well it is
That thoughts like these should wean us from the world,
Strengthening the heart with wholesome discipline,
For life's sad changes! Oftentimes they rise
Uncall’d, but not unwelcome nor unmixed
With a deep joy that satisfies the soul !
Even now a man,

contented with the past,
Pleas’d with my present fate, and looking on
In hope, I sometimes think on those dear friends
Who surely, I believe, will welcome me
When I have past the grave, and bless my God
For this belief which makes it sweet, to DIE !


Having also lost dear friends, I can enter into these sentiments of Young and Southey, as well as sympathize with the feelings of Mr. Gray on the melancholy occasion.

* This has been the Author's particular lot since his Excursion to WINDSOR, by the removal of three estimable friends, the Røv. Huga WORTHINGTON, who died in the 60th year of

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