England is quite over, and the Princess Amelia sunk below the horizon.

Friedrich himself appears a little piqued that Hotham carried his nose so high; that the English would not, in those life-and-death circumstances, abate the least from their "Both marriages or none,"-- thinks they should have saved Wilhelmina, and taken his word of honor for the rest.

England is now out of his head;--all romance is too sorrowfully swept out: and instead of the "sacred air-cities of hope" in this high section of his history, the young man is looking into the "mean clay hamlets of reality," with an eye well recognizing them for real.

With an eye and heart already tempered to the due hardness for them.

Not a fortunate result, though it was an inevitable one.