by commerce with the world; has a primitive and patriarchal simplicity in every word and look, and gesture. When I first saw him, he was employed in carrying fruit for our entertainment into the parlour; and I was, you may suppose, somewhat surprised to find him occupied by so humble an office. His lordship and three agreeable priests dined with us on the day of our arrival: the next being a fast-day, they sat at table, and carved for us, but did not partake: there was a liberality and condescension in this, which pleased me much. We were attended, during din ner, by four familiaros. "The chaplain, an intelligent young man, informed me, that the value of the see was thirty thousand crusados novos a year, or four thousand five hundred pounds sterling; but that the bishop was by no means rich, for one-third of his income went to the poor, one to hospitality, and the remainder to the repair and maintenance of his churches: this is the ancient division of monastic wealth; and in those countries where celibacy is enjoined to the clergy, a more just and proper one could not have been devised." Such a lesson as this would be well employed, if any one would quote it in G. C. the House of Lords. For the Monthly Magazine. heath, round the King's Nursery into the great Portsmouth road, near the 20 mile-stone, turn up short to the left, and making for the clumps of firs in the heath, on a high hill to the left, pass by a farm-house and enter a narrow lane just beyond in a corner, which leads down a steep hill to Stroud. green; keep to the right till you ascend to St. Ann's-heath, keep the left green road on the heath, and enter the first turning on the right, which takes you to Trump's-mill, where you pass a brickbridge, and soon come to a direction 1 post, where four roads meet; go on under St. Ann's-bill, on the Chertsey road, till you skirt the park-paling of Mr. Fox's delightful seat, at the end of which is a public-house, where you may leave. your horse, and ascend on foot about half-a-mile or less to the house, beyond which is a white bench, where there is a fine prospect from the top of St. Ann's hill. By swerving two miles and a half to the left, you may visit Botley's, Sir J. Mawby's, and Attershaw, the seat of two considerable parks: but you must return from Attershaw by Bowsley-farm and Ongar-hill, across Orockford common to Woburnplace; thence to Weybridge, close to which lies Oatlands, the seat of the Duke of York. Proceed along the side of Oatlands to Burwood-park, pass through the park by Burhill, about half a mile beyond. to Burwood-house and Pain's-hill, (which is a straight line of about two miles above the river Mole from Burwood-park-gate to Pain's-hill) late the seat of B. Bond Hopkins; from Pain'shill, about a mile of good road brings you to Cobham, where you cross the Mole, and see Mr. Perry's very wild and beautiful park; cross Cobham-common by Mr. Page's new farm, a straight and good road into Bookham-common; by a gate, take a sweep to the left round the top of the hill, among some loose trees, and following the park-paling of Eastwick-park, which you see before you, enter a lane at the corner of the common where you see a house, and arrive at great Bookham, where there is a good ian, and Eastwich-park; cross the Guildford road here, and proceed across a fine sloping common field to Pulsden arbour, through a beautiful natural avenue to Polsden, the delightful seat of Mr. Sheridan; from whence a lovely lane, through groves, leads to Banmer-com of no common Here ask for the Fox public-house, which is at the top of the hill, a little to the left, and they will direct you where to enter the wood at Baumer, that leads down a narrow lane to Combe Farm, now occupied by a Mr. Steadman, and which stands in the bottom of a lovely valley. Pass through his farm-yard up to the pare sonage, where is a most rural habitation (Mr.Tyler's); pass through his farm-yard, and descend, leaving a chapel and white house to the right; from whence a sloping hill leads you to a gate that opens opposite a clean white public-house, where Sir Sir Frederic Evelyn's tenant, a decent landlord, takes care of his visitors' horses, (good hay, and home-brewed beer, fine white bread, &c. but no lodging, for obvious reasons): the house is called Wootton-hatch, and is only four miles from Dorking. From Wootton-hatch to the right, and at the first turning, descend to Wootton-house, where all the woody grounds, &c. are well worth seeing; from hence you ascend by a very narrow and rural sandy lane, to a gate that brings you to the top of Leith-hill, where you enter an avenue of firs in clumps; and go on bearing to the right a little, at the end of the avenue to Tanhurst, on the edge of Leith-hill, from whence you proceed to Leith-hill Place, late Mr. Thompson's, a magnificent situation; ascend again, and pursue your road along the edge of Leith-hill to the tower, and still pursue the edge of this wonderful mound, till you come to Cold-harbour; from thence through a very grand wood, winding to the left from the ridge, turn down the first turning to the right to Folly-farm, or, crossing some open ground, take the second to the right, by Ridland-farm, entering the high road from Horsham, about the 2-mile stone from Dorking, From Dorking ride to Beechworth Castle, about a mile to Brookham-green; cross the Mole here, and proceed to Beechworth, Tranquil Dale; and return short to the left by Box-hill farm to Box-hill, from whence you see below Mr. Boccat's and Mr. Bouverie's, both of which rural places, if possible, you should visit. Next ascend to Norbury Park (Mr. Locke's); turning off the road at Juniper-hill, proceed to Leatherhead; from Leatherhead to the left, visit Randall-house, whose park is skirted by the Mole; go on to Platsome-green to Leatherhead-common, after passing about one mile of which you come to Ockshott. From Ockshott, two miles of a straight road through Esher-common brings you to Claremont Park, close to which is Esher Place, where a bridge crosses the Mole; three miles from whence is Walton-on-Thames, and Ashley Park, Cross Walton-bridge to Shepperton, Abbymill, and Laleham; proceed to Staines, cross Staines bridge, and just before you come to Egham, enter Runnymeed to the right, where the road leads along the river by Anchorwick-house, to the Bells of Oseley, a public-house; and by a road called Priest's-hill you ascend to Englefield-green, where you should walk on Lord Shuldham's terrace to Cooper'sMONTHLY MAG. No, 207. hill; and returning by Bishopsgate, visit the Great Lodge, and go back to Windsor by the grand avenue. To the Editor of the Monthly Magazinė. SIR, Tvention of the piano-forte, which Mr. Lydiatt has communicated, p. 411, agrees in some measure with a letter I received from Mr. James Broadwood, on this subject. HE information relative to the in "The first maker of the grand pianoforte was H. Baccers, a Dutchman, who, in 1772, invented nearly its mecha nism, by which it is distinguished from the instrument with that name made in Germany." I should esteem it a favour if Mr. Lydiatt would state what he knows with respect to an instrument invented by Mr. Clagget, viz. his forks struck by hammers, as on the small piano-forte. When I saw this instrument, some years ago, at Mr. Clagget's, it was incomplete; not having at that time dumpers applied to it, to stop the resonance of the forks, after the fingers were taken off the keys. The tone was fluty, and made its way, though not disagreeably loud, to the performer. According to the best of my recollection, the voicing was not suf‐ ficiently equal. It had the compass, if I mistake not, of a common pianoforte; but I do not recollect whether it was an octave above concert-pitch, as was the aieuton. An instrument on this construction, would probably never require tuning after the pitch of the forks had once been adjusted; and perhaps there is little reason for apprehending that any change of temperature would affect, in any sensible degree, their relative proportion of vibrations. I once tried an experiment by tuning an organ-pipe to a pitch-fork, and then warming the pitch-fork in a much greater degree than it would have been affected by any change of heat or cold, to which, in the common state of things, it could have been subject. The fork and the organ-pipe beat slowly, which proved that the vibrations of the fork had been altered in a very small degree. When the fork was made absolutely hot, its tone became very feeble, but the beats were more rapid, perhaps about eight in a second. If care were, taken to procure a fork whose vibra. tions are 430 in a second, or any other known number, some valuable experiments might be tried, especially if the зг exact IN SIR, N making a tour in June, 1809, I passed through the wretched town of Woodstock, and of course went with my family to view the contrast afforded by the adjoining palace of Blenheim. After paying the fines which are imposed at two or three passes on travellers, for attempting to gratify their curiosity in viewing this national edifice, we reached the flight of steps leading into the great hall; but were told by our conductor, that Louis XVIII. the exile King of France, was then viewing Blenheim; and, finding that we might join his party by missing two or three rooms which he had seen, we gladly embraced the offer, and joined the party of his Most Christian Majesty. Entering suddenly by a side door, in a party of six or eight, His Majesty appeared to take alarin, and retreated for a moment through an open door into another room; but observing that we bore the open visages of Englishmen, he instantly returned, and surveyed us with much complacency. He was accompanied by the Duke de Grammont, and two or three other French noblemen, whose names I knew not; but many powerful associations gave the groupe à strong interest with me. I could not but marvel at thus meeting with a King of France, a grand grand-son of Louis XIV. in the very palace which had been erected by the parliament of England, as a trophy to the General who had so often in the field humbled the pride of that ambitious Bourbon. The incident too was rendered more curious from the circumstance, that all the walls of Blenheim are covered with graphic representations of the triumphs of the Duke of Marlborough, and to view those exaggerated representations was 1 a voluntary penance which the exiled monarch had imposed on himself. The Ciceroni performing this delicate task, was, however, the ordinary showman, dressed out in the tawdry livery of his office, flippantly sporting his Mounsheers, his tossicated Bacchus's, his Lewis's, and other John-Bullisms; and vaunting about the thousands of the Mounsheers that were killed, taken prisoners, &c. &c. in every battle! In vain did I take him aside, and apprize him that the decencies of hospitality, and the quality and intelligence of his visitors, rendered fewer explanations necessary "I likes it," said he, "I likes to tell him the truth;" winking his eye at the same instant, and smiling with excessive gratification. When he came to the battle of Malplaquet, he entered into a flourishing rhodomontade about the vast superiority of the French, their total rout, &c. &c. when Louis, a little piqued, exclaimed, "Yes, it was a very bloody battle!" "Ah," said the fellow, " twenty thousand of the Mounsheers were killed on the spot!" His Majesty appeared to have a very correct taste in matters of art, dwelt with pleasure on the fine Carlo Dolci's, the Rubens's, &c. &c. and, evidently as a compliment to my party, praised some faded groupes of Sir Joshua Reynolds, representing some matter-of-fact figures in the uncouth costume of the year 1770. His conduct and observations, made in pretty good English, evinced an active intelligence on historical and other subjects. He spoke with evident reserve; but I hope he was satisfied that some of the English of the party felt a strong desire to shew him every possible respect, and were much affected by the vulgar spirit of the ciceroni. At the tomb, in the chapel, this fellow was more than commonly boisterous in his descriptions of the allegories of victory, of prostrate nations, &c. &c. exhibited by the sculptor. But I lost all patience when, on departing, I saw him hold out his hand to the royal party, and receive a fee of a guinea! On this subject I remonstrated with him again, but was told, "he did not get a royal customer every day, and instead of not paying at all, he thought they ought to pay better than other people." The profile of Louis XVIII. is exactly that of the unhappy Louis XVI. and I do not doubt but his whole contour is very like that of his brother. He is very fat; and and waddles or rolls ungracefully in his walk. He has a piercing black eye, and takes a great deal of snuff, his face and clothes being discoloured by it. Habitual good temper appears to be the prevailing quality of his mind, and he bears no outward sign of anxiety to recover the fortunes of his family. If he is not too easy, and too likely to be misled by favourites, I should think him the very man under whom a people might live happy under their laws, without disturbance from his ill-humour or ambition. In short, Louis XVIII. carries in his appearance so much of the well-fed citizen, or easy country gentleman, that one of my sons, a little boy of seven years of age, who had been used to see pictures of Kings with crowns on their heads, and generally dressed in armour, could with difficulty be persuaded that that gentleman was a King; and he sometimes amuses us by stalking or waddling across the room, and exclaiming, "I am a King!" We afterwards met with His Majesty at Oxford, where he recognized us, and we left that city at the same instant, his Majesty for Gosfield, and I, with my family, for London. On our route, I amused myself in projecting a plan for his restoration, which, for the sake of the peace of Europe, I conceived, and still conceive, may be effected, by his publicly announcing to the French people 1. A general amnesty. 2. Property to remain as it is, or as a life interest in the occupier; and in disputable cases, to be referable to arbitration. 3. Military, and other promotions and preferments, to be respected so far as regards rank and pay. 4. A solemn pledge to be made to establish a constitution, in spirit like that of England, and to govern according to laws made by a free legislature. 5. The limits of France to be the great rivers and chains of mountains. 6. Equitable indemnities to families who have lost their estates or preferments. 7. Toleration in matters of religion. 8. General risings to take place on fixed days. Perhaps, however, such an extinction of prejudices is expecting too much of human nature; and Louis and his courtiers may probably prefer Exile, the spirit of Revenge, and the hopes of arbitrary Power, to a Kingdoin, with Forgiveness of Injuries, and concessions of Civil Liberty to the l'eople. COMMON SENSE. For the Monthly Magazine. LETTERS DESCRIPTIVE of CHELTENHAM and its VICINITY.No. VII. Cheltenham, August 21, 1808. HE distance from Winchcombe to Hailes is within the limit of a mo TH derate walk, and we observed at intervals in our way thither, many traces of the original footpath that connected these adjoining monasteries in the days of their prosperity. The village of Hailes consists of a few respectable farm-houses and picturesque cottages, prettily scattered round a neat rustic church. The venerable ruins of rich tract of meadow land, bounded on the abbey are beautifully situated in a the north and east by gentle and well wooded declivities. Their present extent and appearance afford ample proof of former magnificence and splendour, but alas! "Where reverend shrines in Gothic grandeur stood, The nettle or the noxious nightshade spreads; And ashlings wafted from the neighbouring wood, Through broken arches wave their trembling heads." This, which was a mitred abbey, was founded by Richard earl of Cornwall and king of the Romans, who being horn in 1209, was still in his childhood at the death of his father, King John. As he advanced to manhood, he was distinguished as much for wisdom and prudence in the cabinet, as for valour and skill in the field. In the year 1256 he was elected to the Roman crown, and soon after visited Germany with a splendid train, and was there invested with the insignia of royalty. His estate was princely, and was reported to be equal to the expenditure of 400 marks a-day for ten years; indeed, he seems to have been no less conspicuous for opulence than his brother Henry III. for poverty. His treasures, however, were considerably diminished by the contest for sove, reignty, so that he is said to have returned from Germany " a poorer king than he went out an earl." The monastery of Hailes was erected and endowed in pursuance of a vow which he made when exposed to imminent danger of shipwreck on his return from Gase coigne, coigne. The building appears to have been begun in 1246, but was not com pleted till 1251, when it was dedicated by the bishop of Lincoln, assisted by twelve others, who officiated each at a separate altar. This solemnity was graced with the presence of the king and queen, and almost all the nobility and prelates of the land; and on the following Sunday a sumptuous entertainment was prepared for this august assemblage of royalty and rank. This house, in common with many others, doubtless suffered very serious dilapidations at the general suppression of monastic institutions. The principals of such societies usually lived in great state, with large retinues of domestics, in houses contiguous to their convents; and the residence of the abbot of Hailes, which was spacious and handsome, long survived the reformation, for John Viscount Tracey, who was the last of its possessors by whom it was occupied, died here in 1686. It was then deserted, and the whole fabric was from time to time destroyed, as the materials were required, either to repair or to erect other buildings. Many magnificent decora tions, such as the arms from the windows, and a richly-carved chimney-piece, were removed from hence to the family-seat of the Traceys at Toddington. The church of that village is likewise enriched with some fine figures of apostles from this place; and the mansion of the De laberes, and probably those of other an. cient families in the neighbourhood, par took also of the spoils. A beautiful fragment of the entrancetower, of light and elegant architecture, was however suffered till very lately to remain; but even this has, with Vandal barbarity, been rudely demolished. The only considerable vestiges now standing, are the ruins of a noble quadrangular cloister, inclosing an extensive area, planted with fruit-trees. Of this, one side is much more complete than the other; and, at irregular intervals, many beautiful arches, of various forms, have escaped the general devastation. The walls, of massive thickness, seem to frown as in Time's despite; and the mantling ty, thriving in unmolested possession, * Here also the sons of the neighbouring gentry were frequently educated; and many youths were supported at the universities by the abbot's bounty. Their hospitality was, almost unlimited, and their charitable donations munificent. spreads wide its protecting arms, and increases the picturesque beauty of the scene. Here we were shown a large blue stone, which had been excavated in the course of a recent search for materials to be converted into lime. It had evidently covered the grave of no ordinary personage, for the rivets and indentations plainly proved that it had been curiously inlaid with brass figures and inscriptions, These we learnt upon enquiry were per fect when it was discovered, but had been subsequently torn off and sold by the workmen. Thus are the valuable and venerable relics of antiquity neglect. ed by their possessors, and suffered to become the prey of unrelenting ignorance and uncontrouled avarice. A subterraneous archway is pointed out as the commencement of a commu nication which is supposed in days of yore to have existed between this and some distant place; but, as such conjec tures are often formed on very slight grounds, they deserve little attention. The inn which once accommodated the numerous pilgrims that crowded this mi raculous shrine, has only been destroyed within the remembrance of some of the present inhabitants of the village. Although the demon of demolition has here triumphed in his spoils, yet some interesting fragments of arched doorways and noble windows, still attract and gras tify the eye of taste. Several of the former appear to have led from the northeast side of the cloister to the abbey church, the size of which may with some difficulty be ascertained in an adjoining field, by broken masses of foundation, overgrown with brambles. Here lie interred the bodies of the founder of the abbey, and his queen, and their eldest son Edmund, together with the remains of many others of inferior note. Long may their obscure sepulchres elude the prying eye of unhallowed curiosity, and escape the destructive touch of undiscri minating barbarism! Richard bequeathed his heart to Reuly Abbey, at Oxford, which was another of his foundations, and it was there deposited under a pyramid of "admirable workmanship." These stately piles have both been levelled with the dust, and the * Senchia, his second wife, who was the third daughter of the Earl of Provence, and the sister of Queen Eleanor. She was one of the four daughters of an earl, that were ex alted to the thrones of as many kings: monumental |