eroic.
Coleridge has some fine lines addressed to her,--called forth by a
sonnet which she composed, while in Switzerland, on William Tell's
Chapel,--which begin,--

"O lady, nursed in pomp and pleasure,
Where learn'dst thou that heroic measure?"

The Duchess of Sutherland, in our times, has been known to be no less
warmly interested on the liberal side. So great was her influence held
to be, that upon a certain occasion when a tory cabinet was to be
formed, a distinguished minister is reported to have said to the queen
that he could not hope to succeed in his administration while such a
decided influence as that of the Duchess of Sutherland stood at the
head of her majesty's household. The queen's spirited refusal to
surrender her favorite attendant attracted, at the time, universal
admiration.

Like her brother Lord Carlisle, the Duchess of Sutherland has always
professed those sentiments with regard to slavery which are the glory of
the English nation, and which are held with more particular zeal by
those families who are favorable to the progress of liberal ideas.

At about seven o'clock we took our carriage to go to the Earl of
Carlisle's, the dinner hour being here somewhere between eight and nine.
As we rode on through the usual steady drizzling rain, from street to
street and square to square, crossing Waterloo Bridge, with its avenue
of lamps faintly visible in the seethy mist, plunging through the heart
of the city, we began to realize something of the immense extent of
London.

Altogether the most striking objects that you pass, as you ride in the
evening thus, are the gin shops, flaming and flaring from the most
conspicuous positions, with plate-glass windows and dazzling lights,
thronged with men, and women, and children, drinking destruction.
Mothers go there with babies in their arms, and take what turns the
mother's milk to poison. Husbands go there, and spend the money that
their children want for bread, and multitudes of boys and girls of the
age of my own. In Paris and other European cities, at least the great
fisher of souls baits with something attractive, but in these gin shops
men bite at the bare, barbed hook. There are no garlands, no dancing, no
music, no theatricals, no pretence of social exhilaration, nothing but
hogsheads of spirits, and people going in to drink. The number of them
that I passed seemed to me absolutely appalling.

After long driving we found ourselves coming into