amid her court. Unless we except the Tiber, there is no river which has so much history about it as the Thames, and which is so strongly impressed with the characteristics of its nation. There are the signs of that commercial activity which has carried the flag of England round the world; there is that cleaving to the past, which has preserved those stately churches inviolate—the glorious receptacles of the dead—and there, too, is evidence of that domestic spirit which goes back upon itself for enjoyment, and garners up its best hopes in a little space. England may be deficient in public gardens, but where are there so many private ones, each the delight of their master, and the household that have planted their shrubs, and watered their flowers? What little worlds of affection and comfort are bounded by the neat quickset-hedge, quiet and still as the nest of some singing-bird!
Ethel was in that sensitive state of mind and body, which is especially subject to external influences, and she began her toilet with a cheerfulness that had its origin in the sun
