Soon wat❜ry grew her eyes, and dim, But with a joyful tear; None else, except in prayer for him, Yet let the glories of a night Like that, once seen, suffice: Heav'n grant us no such future sight- Etiquette observed on the Terrace at Windsor when the King and Royal Family were taking their Evening Walk.-Extracted from the Rev. John Evans's Excursion to Windsor in July 1810. WE entered Windsor about six o'clock, and having refreshed ourselves at the inn with a cup of tea, hastened to the Terrace, where we found a considerable portion of genteel company. Intent on the gratification of a laudible curiosity, we felt peculiarly happy in joining them on this occasion. It was seven o'clock, and the good old King soon made his appearance with his accustomed punctuality. A little door in the castle was thrown open, when two attendants were seen leading this venerable personage with great care down a flight of steps till he safely alighted upon the terrace. Then the Princesses Eliza beth and Augusta, who were present, accompanied him, one on each side, or rather took hold of his arm; they paced backwards and forwards for an hour, two bands of music playing alternately; the fine tones of the several instruments being heightened by the stillness of the closing day. The King was dressed neatly; blue coat with buttons and blue star, white waistcoat and small clothes, white stockings, and gold buckles in his shoes. His hat somewhat resembled that worn by the clergy, with the addition of a gold button and loop, mounted by a black cockade, which marks him out conspicuously from the rest of the company. His Majesty looked ruddy and full; his voice is sonorous, and he converses with cheerfulness, though, when he attempts to speak rather hastily, it is without hesitation. His want of sight is very apparent, for his hat is drawn over the upper part of his face, and he feels about with his cane, especially ascending or descending a step. It is affecting to see him, though he appears cheerful when he speaks, and seems as if nothing were the matter with him. He now and then stops to converse either with the officers, or with the nobility and gentry. We saw him several times on the Terrace; but on this first evening there was a more than ordinary degree of conversation. He was full of inquiries respecting the installation of Lord Grenville, as P Chancellor of the University of Oxford, which had taken place during the week. He enquired also about the balloon in which Mr. Sadler had ascended on this occasion, and was particularly anxious to know how long it continued in the air and where it had alighted; Harrow-on-theHill was mentioned, though the spot had not then been ascertained. He conversed at all times on a variety of topics with the utmost freedom and even hilarity. This daily promenade must benefit both his mind and body; while the presence, as well as the attention, of so many of his subjects, some coming from distant parts, must yield him no inconsiderable gratification. The countenances of the Princesses are replete with good nature, and most exemplary is their attention to their aged parent. This, indeed, is their best praise, their noblest recommendation: Filial piety is the characteristic attribute of humanity. It sheds a lustre upon all the other virtues which enrich and adorn the great family of mankind. It should be mentioned that the King, in returning back to his apartments in the Castle, passing by the band of musicians on the steps, always touched his hat, and said, in an audible voice, "Gentlemen, good night, I thank you." Indeed His Majesty, during the whole time, seemed in perfect good humour with all the company. The only etiquette observed on the Terrace is that when the King passes, the ladies and gentlemen withdraw on either side, the latter merely uncovering the head, bows and curtsies being dispensed with on the occasion. A police officer is in attendance, who, with a little switch, keeps individuals from pressing too much on the King when he stops to converse; but this is done with the greatest urbanity. Owing to a slight indisposition, the Queen did not make her appearance on the Terrace; but we saw her on other occasions. His Majesty was regular in his attendance at Chapel every morning, and seemed seriously engaged in his devotions. About ten o'clock, when the weather is fine, (Sunday excepted), the King rides out on horseback; and, considering his age, he mounted his horse with wonderful agility. He is, in his ride, accompanied by two of the Princesses, who have some of their maids of honour following in a landau or phaton. The King has several attendants, two of whom are close by him, and one has a little stick, the crooked end of which catches that part of the bridle nearest the curb, so that should the animal, on which his Majesty rides, stumble, instant assistance might be given. Indeed, it is gratifying to the benevolent mind to observe that every attention is paid to the good old Monarch, which may alleviate his informities or smooth his descent towards the tomb. One day we met his Majesty in the Long walk, together with his retinue, returning from their morning's excursion. It had a singular appearance. The King himself made a conspicuous figure, whilst the number of attendants on horseback or in the carriages, reminded me of the Eastern Caravan, where every provision is made for a social and comfortable journey. LAST ILLNESS OF THE KING. THE delicate reserve which the official attenddants of the late King have always preserved, in their intercourse with the inhabitants of Windsor, has ever commanded our sincere respect. We never sought to lift the veil by any enquiry, however guarded; and we have always endeavoured to expose those statements of the public papers, which, in exciting curiosity, gratified it in the most ridiculous and unauthorized manner. We are quite sure that no particular of his late Majesty's state, through the awful visitation of his latter years, would ever transpire during his life. His lamented decease has removed the necessity for the strictness of that reserve; but we are certain that those who have been the faithful witnesses of his sorrows and his wanderings, will never reveal them, except as illustra |