The news called forth an outburst of public joy, that hit the Prince’s party hard. A thanksgiving prayer was read in every church; and later on the King, to the dread of his advisers, would not be satisfied without the excitement of attending a solemn service at St. Paul’s, where he and the princesses were moved to tears, while his graceless sons attracted attention by their irreverent chattering. There is some slight palliation for the Prince of Wales’s conduct throughout this trying time, in the fact that the King had showed a dislike to him, and even a want of fairness to his shortcomings; but the Duke of York, always the father’s favourite son, has no excuse for backing up his undutiful brother. Soon after the recovery was announced, London had hailed it with a general illumination, from rushlights in the humblest cottage window to blazing devices on the clubs. It was witnessed by the Queen and all her daughters except the youngest, while, in their absence till the, for them, most unwonted hour of 1 A.M., Kew House too was lighted up and adorned with a transparency displaying _The King--Providence--Health--Britannia_; and on either side of the gates, in gold letters on a purple ground, shone these most loyal lines:-- Our prayers are heard, and Providence restores A patriot King to bless Britannia’s shores. Nor yet to Britain is this bliss confined, All Europe hails the friend of human kind! If such the general joy, what words can show The change to transport from the depth of woe, In those permitted to embrace again The best of fathers, husbands, and of men? Inside the house also the Muse was not silent. His darling Princess Amelia came to kneel before him, presenting her father with verses in the Queen’s name, from the pen of her novelist-attendant. [Illustration: THE WATER LILY POND] Amid a rapturous Nation’s praise That sees thee to their prayers restored, Turn gently from the general blaze,-- Thy Charlotte woos her bosom’s lord. Turn and behold where, bright and clear, Depictured with transparent art, The emblems of her thoughts appear, The tribute of a grateful heart. O! small the tribute, were it weigh’d With all she feels--or half she knows! But noble minds are best repaid From the pure spring whence bounty flows. P.S.--The little bearer begs a kiss From dear papa, for bringing this.