"Sion Chapel, at Hampstead, being a private and pleasant place, many persons of the best fashion have been lately married there. Now, as a Minister is obliged constantly to attend, this is to give notice, that all persons, upon bringing a licence, and who shall have their wedding-dinner at the house in the gardens, may be married in the said Chapel without giving any fee or reward; and such as do not keep their wedding at the gardens, only five shillings will be demanded of them for all fees." A grand aquatic procession occurred in July 1717. The King, accompanied by the Dutchess of Newcastle, Lady Godolphin, Madam Kilmanseck and the Earl of Orkney, went in the evening in an open barge to Chelsea. As they floated up the tide, surrounded by thousands of boats, fifty performers in a City-barge serenaded his Majesty with the strains of Handel, composed expressly for this occasion, with which he was so enraptured that they were thrice repeated. At eleven o'clock the boats had reached Chelsea; there the Monarch landed, and, proceeding to the mansion of Lady Catharine Jones[257:A] he supped, was entertained by a concert, and returned at two in the morning. The Princess of Wales frequently hired the common watermen, and glided about the same part of the river; and once honoured a West-country barge with a visit, partaking with the men their homely fare of salt-pork and bread, and distributing a tenfold equivalent of guineas. This honour was so acceptable to the Master of the vessel, that he immediately gave her a Royal title, and expended great part of the money in purchasing a splendid cockade as a _distinguishing vane_ for his head, vowing to _renew it when decayed_. Such were the happier moments of Royalty! Thanks to our Constitution, happiness reigns in gradations from the Throne to the Cottage; and while George I. solaced in his Gondola, fanned by the evening breeze, and lulled by the sweet notes of Handel, his peasants were celebrating their Florists' feast at Bethnal-green, with a Carnation named after him, the King of the Year; the Stewards bearing gilded staves, crowned with laurel, and bedecked with flowers, and 90 cultivators in their rear, each bearing his blooming trophy, traversed the fields to the sound of musick, happy in themselves, and rendering the numerous spectators not less so. Why is this pleasing custom neglected and forgotten? It would have been well if the Society for the Reformation of Manners had attempted the reform of a class of people whose manners were extremely provoking and very disgusting. I beg leave to introduce a paragraph from the Medley of May 16, which will explain my meaning, and support my assertion, that in this particular the watermen of our day are greatly improved, though still very rough in their actions and conversation.