first tide, to get lower than Galleons Reach, a little below Woolwich; when the lords of the admiralty and all the suite dined and supped with the King, in the most sociable manner, His Majesty bearing his delay with great patience, and quietly retiring to rest at his usual hour of ten o'clock. The yachts weighed with the morning tide; but it was found utterly impracticable to get lower than the Hope, below Gravesend, before low water; and, after lying there until the evening, a council was held, when on account of the important business which required His Majesty's presence in town, it was resolved to return to London without accomplishing the object of the royal expedition.

It was not, however, without great reluctance that His Majesty came to this resolution; for even when the roughness of the weather made it unpleasant to proceed, the King himself having actually been thrown out of his bed by the rolling of the vessel, yet he with great condescension said to Captain Trollope, "Do not consider me; but consider, if I cannot get to the Nore, the disappointment of those brave fellows, whom I long to thank, as I have you, for defending me, protecting my people, and preserving my country.

In the evening the signal was made to weigh, in order to return, and at eight o'clock the yachts anchored off Gravesend; starting the next morning at dawn, when they arrived off Greenwich so early,

that His Majesty landed at ten o'clock, and, after again breakfasting with the Hood family, set off for town.

Immediately before leaving the yacht, the King, wishing to reward the gallantry of Captain Trollope, who had commanded the Russell in the late glorious action, conferred on him the honour of knighthood as a knight banneret. He had previously thanked him, on first introduction, in the most gracious manner, in his own name, and that of the kingdom, for his conduct.

When His Majesty first signified his intention of knighting him, Captain Trollope modestly begged leave to decline that honour; but being at length introduced by Lord Spencer, as first lord of the admiralty, the King performed the ceremony, and then bowed in the most courteous manner, saying, "Rise, Sir Henry Trollope. I wish you health and long life."

At this moment, Lieutenant Clevely, well known as a marine draftsman, and whose pictures of the morn and eve of the first of June, 1794, have been much admired, was taking some sketches from the yacht, when Lord Hugh Seymour (then Conway) told him he must carry his drawings to the King. Lord Spencer introducing him by the name of Cleverley, His Majesty instantly exclaimed, "No! no! that's not it, my lord, though it is something like it 'tis Clevely. I am very glad,

Sir, to see you among us; and shall have great pleasure in viewing your excellent drawings. Elizabeth has shewn us some of them before."

Thus did this benevolent monarch work his way to the hearts of all his subjects, except, perhaps, a few poisoned with French principles.

The necessity of his return was evident; for on the following day, the second of November, he opened the parliament-a ceremony for which no preparation had been made to perform it by commissioners; of course his hurried return, without seeing the fleet, was imperative.

The pious heart of the venerable monarch was now filled with gratitude to the God of battles, for the victorious results of the several important naval actions under Howe, St. Vincent, and Duncan and in order to mark that gratitude more fully to the nation, and to the world at large, he determined on a day of general thanksgiving, which took place on the nineteenth of December, when the heavens seemed to smile propitious; for never, perhaps, before that period, had there been so imposing a spectacle exhibited, with the exception of the memorable procession to St. Paul's on his recovery; whilst the remarkable beauty and clearness of the day, the finest which had taken place for many weeks, greatly increased the splendour and brilliancy of this second procession to the cathedral of the capital; and during which the recollection of the

ever memorable events that gave rise to it added in no small degree to the gaiety of the scene.

It is unnecessary to describe the military and courtly preparations for this august display of national piety and gratitude-the crowding of thousands to the metropolis-or the preparations made for the immense hosts of spectators anxious to see and to be seen.

As to His Majesty himself, his years seemed renovated: he thought of nothing else; talked of nothing else; and appeared to enjoy the preparations with all the vivacity of a school-boy.

In the morning of the day, when the Guards, and the volunteer corps, with the Westminster Light Horse, came upon duty, the latter paraded in Hyde Park, from whence they marched across Piccadilly, by Constitution Hill, in their way towards the city; and the King no sooner saw them approach, than he proceeded on foot to the Park to see them pass, expressing great satisfaction at their military appearance.

As this was a day of naval rejoicing, the troops merely lined the streets; whilst a large body of seamen and marines formed in front of the Admiralty, in order to carry and escort the flags, ensigns, and pendants, captured from the enemy, now about to be deposited in the national receptacle.

It is unnecessary to describe the procession, consisting of officers and seamen, the houses of par

liament, the dignitaries of the church and law, and the royal family, whose suite of twenty carriages, drawn by one hundred and twenty-two horses, formed the finest equestrian sight, perhaps, ever exhibited.

His Majesty, and all the branches of the royal family, were dressed in the most appropriate magnificence, indicative of rejoicing; and the effect was very fine when he arrived at Temple Bar, where the usual civic ceremonies of delivering the keys took place.

Throughout the whole of the procession, the King appeared highly delighted; for he was throughout received with every mark of attention, respect, and applause, which his goodness of heart, and love for his people, had so well merited. Indeed the whole assembly seemed stimulated by grateful good-humour; for particular marks of respect were also bestowed upon many others, especially Mr. Pitt, to insult whom, however, it was known that several malcontents had been stationed in different places, in hopes that their groans and hisses might lead to popular tumult.

The spectacle within the cathedral, as arranged previous to the entrance of the King, was grand in the extreme, with the whole of the clergy and corporation in their robes, the flags supported by officers in a circle under the dome, martial music of the first order, and the branches of the royal family