w immediately. The soldiers advanced with
such impetuosity, although up to their necks in the water, that the
Britons could not withstand the onset and fled. A couple of miles below,
at Hampton, Garrick lived in a mansion fronted by a rotunda with a
Grecian portico. We pass Hampton Court and Bushey Park, which revive
memories of Wolsey, Cromwell, and William III., and then on the opposite
bank see the two charming Dittons--"Thames" and "Long" Ditton--of which
Theodore Hook has written:

"When sultry suns and dusty streets proclaim town's 'winter season,'
And rural scenes and cool retreats sound something like high treason,
I steal away to shades serene which yet no bard has hit on,
And change the bustling, heartless scene for quietude and Ditton.

"Here, in a placid waking dream, I'm free from worldly troubles,
Calm as the rippling silver stream that in the sunshine bubbles;
And when sweet Eden's blissful bowers some abler bard has writ on,
Despairing to transcend _his_ powers, I'll _ditto_ say for Ditton."

Then we pass Kingston, where several Saxon kings were crowned, and the
coronation-stone, marked with their names, it is said, still remains in
the market-place. Teddington Lock is the last upon the Thames, and a
mile below is Eel-Pie Island, lying off Twickenham, renowned for the
romance that surrounds its ancient ferry. Near here lived the eccentric
Horace Walpole, at Strawberry Hill, while in Twickenham Church is the
monument to the poet Pope, which states in its inscription that he would
not be buried in Westminster Abbey. Pope's villa no longer exists, and
only a relic of his famous grotto remains. The widening Thames, properly
named the Broadwater, now sweeps on to Richmond, and if that far-famed
hill is climbed, it discloses one of the finest river-views in the
world.

LONDON.

Here ends the romantic portion of the Thames. The beauty of Nature is no
longer present, being overtopped by the stir and roar of the great
Babel, for the metropolis has reached out and swallowed up the suburban
villages, although some of the picturesque scenes remain. Many bridges
span the river, which on either hand gradually transforms its
garden-bordered banks into the city buildings, and the Thames itself
bears on its bosom the valuable commerce that has chiefly made the great
capital. When King James I. threatened recalcitrant London with the
removal of his court to Oxford, the lord mayor sturdily yet
sarca