were winged by mercenary arms. It seems well that the golden or gilded youth of our generation are more active, taking their amusement _moult tristement_, as might be judged by an unsympathetic foreigner. An English writer has found fault with Thames boats as "built for woman and not for man, for lovely woman to recline, parasol in one hand and tiller ropes in the other, while man--inferior man--pulled and pulled and pulled as an ox yoked to the plough." But that is hardly fair now that girls boyishly take their turn at the oar, even exhibiting the spectacle of whole galleys deftly womanned by crews of water-Amazons. The only right left to man here is the panting and perspiring toil of the tow-path, to which he bends devotedly like "the captives depicted on Egyptian monuments with cords about their necks." Such slavery may well be preferred to the aid of those exorbitant and foul-mouthed hirelings who infest the river banks in search of a job, which to Edwin makes a labour of love, so Angelina be drawn along cool, at ease, grateful, and admiring. With his dynamic energy, contrast the contemplative, perhaps misanthropic, and apparently celibate joys of the angler, throned upon his punt or posted on the bank, as he has been ever since Pope's day-- The patient fisher takes his silent stand, Intent, his angle trembling in his hand: With looks unmoved, he hopes the scaly breed, And eyes the dancing cork, and bending reed. Below Walton, the Thames winds quietly on between banks that again suggest a quotation from Denham-- No stupendous precipice denies Access, no horror turns away our eyes. The panorama is one of green meadows, garden grounds, shady islands, cuts and creeks, Sunbury Lock, boat-houses, inns, water-works, racecourse enclosures, and hints of villages lying back from the river; but Hampton Church stands out on the bank; then a string of islets brings us on to the mouth of the Mole opposite Hampton Court. This palace of popular resort, with its galleries, courts, gardens, and park avenues, its barracks, its many houses of entertainment, and its terminus of London tramways, is in Middlesex; but its station is across the bridge in Surrey; and if one wanted matter to fill a few pages, one might fairly include a description of its treasures. But so much has to be said of the Surrey side, that we had better pass on with one look at this monument of old England, touched with graces of continental taste.