together, is peculiarly adapted for walking and bathing, as the sand is very hard and firm, and the bathingmachines, of which several are kept, afford the greatest security and comfort. To the attractions of the beach, Aldeburgh adds another, which cannot fail to delight the lover of nature. The magnificent terrace, on the summit of the hill behind the town, commands a view that embraces many beautiful features; for not only does the eye wander over the boundless expanse of Aldeburgh and Hollesley Bays, richly studded with their moving treasures, and separated from each other by the promontory of Orford-ness; but it is also gratified with a view of a rich country, through which flows the Alde, and adds to the scene a beauty of no common kind.

You desire me, dear Mary, to tell you in rhyme,
At Aldeburgh how I've been passing my time:
I went for my health, being bilious and nervous,
Sent by Dr. Dispatch, (gracious heaven preserve us),
And call'd upon Waddington, meaning to dine,
Whose wife gives good humour, and he wit and wine;
And Eliza,+ who makes it her study to please,
Receiv'd me with equal politeness and ease.

*

The Rev. Richard Waddington was of Jesus College, Cambridge, where he proceeded to the degree of B. A. 1761, and M. A. 1764. He was presented by his College to the rectory of Cavendish in 1780, and died July 26th 1808, in the 70th year of his age. His character is pourtrayed, in the following lines, by his friend Mr. Stewart;

"Firm was his faith, from bigotry refin'd,
His hand was liberal, as his heart was kind;
By friends respected, by his flock rever'd,
To every tender relative endear'd;
Thus did he live, and thus resign his breath,
Lov'd in his life, lamented in his death:
And here, in hope, beneath this sacred stone,
In sure and certain hope, lies WADDINGTON.”

His Niece.

After dinner, the ladies retiring-at last,

My old friend and myself talk'd of times that are past, Days of joy, that must ne'er be expected again, Days I think of with pleasure, how mingled with pain!

For however we flatter, it must be confest,

That old times were most happy, old friends are the best.

But a truce to this subject, which brings to my mind What at Melford I lost, and shall ne'er again find.

Next we went to the rooms, where we happily met
Of the ladies a winning and voluble set;
Sweet souls, when the pleasures of evening begin,
They can talk without ceasing, yet constantly win.
But indeed men and women were eager to talk,
Of the royal* review, by his Highness of York,
Of a new realt Peer, of last summer's creation,
Of the state of the fashions, and state of the nation,

On Friday, Oct. 3rd 1806, the garrisons of Ipswich and Woodbridge, consisting of the Royal Horse and Foot Artillery, the 6th (or Inniskilling) Dragoons, the 7th and 11th Light Dragoons, the Shropshire, Leicestershire, East Middlesex, Hertford, West Suffolk, West Kent, East York, Durham, and Northamptonshire regiments of Militia, were reviewed by the Duke of York on Rushmere Heath. About ten o'clock his Royal Highness, accompanied by the Duke of Cambridge, and several General Officers, came upon the ground. A Royal salute was immediately fired by the Artillery, and the whole army instantly fell in line and presented arms, Officers saluting, and the different bands playing God save the King. The review then commenced; and notwithstanding the rain that fell during the day, it was gone through to the entire satisfaction of his Royal Highness, who expressed himself highly pleased with the exact manner in which the troops performed all their military evolutions. The whole was under the command of Lord Charles Fitzroy, Lord Paget, and Major Gen. Robinson, and if the day had been fine, a grander military spectacle could not have been witnessed, as there were not less than 12,000 men under arms, well appointed, and in the highest state of discipline.

Of the rise of provisions, the fall of the stocks, Lord Lauderdale's mission, and death of Charles

Fox,

Whose loss all true friends of democracy shocks.
But who is that embonpoint lady, so gay,

So profuse of her beauties, in muslin array ?
It is Mrs. Bonton, whose lov'd husband's away.
While he braves ev'ry toil of the seas, and explores,
To accumulate wealth, distant India's shores,
Her concern for his absence no tongue can express,
Poor soul, she forgets every part of her dress:
And regardless of danger, exposes to sight,
To the heats of the day, and the colds of the night,
Arms, shoulders, breasts, bosom, bewitchingly white;
And, while we admire all the beauties we can see,
Leaves, with great generosity, nothing to fancy.

Now the raffles commenc'd, and I found, to my cost,
All my money, and all, but my temper, was lost:
After raffling, we hasten'd four tables to fill,
With cassino and commerce, and whist and quadrille.
For me, I must own I was quite over-aw'd
At whist, when oppos'd to the new made Sir Maude,
Plain Mannerly late, but the King, do you see,
First gave him a title, then added a De,

And now he is call'd Sir Maude De Mannerly. Would a title were mine, how 'twould tickle my ear, "Yes, Sir Charles," "no, Sir Charles," from my partner to hear;

When prepar'd to my skill a just tribute to pay,
"Why, Sir Charles, I protest, that was excellent
"play."

How delightful to hear all the company round
Repeating, by turns, the agreeable sound.

If I stroll'd on the beach, or paraded the street, "That's Sir Charles," all the people would cry that

I meet;

And, what would complete all the bliss of my life, Dear Mary, you'd be Lady S, my wife.

Part the Second.

CIRCUMSTANCES AND EVENTS,

HISTORICAL, POLITICAL,

LEGENDARY AND ROMANTIC.