OUR TOURIST IN PARIS.—No. 7.

"Luna, Luna, Luna's a lady."

and no lady—at least none of our acquaintance—could stand against the force of an instrument so powerful as to detect every furrow, wrinkle, or even crease in her countenance. It is all very well for the sons of science to be continually staring Luna in the face, through the medium of powerful telescopes; but having satisfied themselves of the "Moon's Age," they might surely be satisfied without continually publishing the fact for the gratification of an impertinent curiosity.

One of our serious contemporaries, in recording a fashionable marriage, describes the bride as "led to the hymenæal altar." The nuptial rites were celebrated at St. George's, Hanover Square; and we are further informed that theRev. Berry M. Huntingdonofficiated. We did not know that the priests of Hymen were styled Reverend, nor were we aware that the divinity in question had any altar in St. George's church.

WHAT THE "BRITISH GRENADIER" IS INEVITABLY COMING TO.

Some talk ofAlexander, and some ofPericles,OfHector, andLysander, and such old Guys as these;But of all the horrid objects, the "wust" I do declare,Is the Prusso-Russo-Belgo-Gallo-British Grenadier.

Some talk ofAlexander, and some ofPericles,

OfHector, andLysander, and such old Guys as these;

But of all the horrid objects, the "wust" I do declare,

Is the Prusso-Russo-Belgo-Gallo-British Grenadier.

The preservation of the integrity of the Ottoman Empire is no doubt a very important object; but a matter of no less consequence is the restoration of the integrity of the Kingdom of Spain, which it has lost in cheating its creditors.

Mr. Francis Maguiretalks of "patriots of the purest water." Pity is it that such water so seldom comes out of the Liffey.

Butcher Boy (who has had a liberal education)Butcher Boy (who has had a liberal education)."Pur—Purvy or to Her Majesty. Oh! then that's a Statty-ette of the Queen, that's wot that is."Companion."Law!"

Butcher Boy (who has had a liberal education)."Pur—Purvy or to Her Majesty. Oh! then that's a Statty-ette of the Queen, that's wot that is."

Companion."Law!"

It would be a mistake for a person of taste to leave Paris without dining atPhilippe's, the great artist, who dwells in the Rue Montorgueil. There is the very highest authority (an Ex-Chancellor, a Bishop or two, and my friendJollyboy) for stating that this house is by far the best in the city; and so, Sir, having the interests of your paper and my country in view, I accepted the invitation ofHarry Ortolan, himself no bad judge, to meet a small party there. There were oldMartingaleandSheffield Higson, andDe Courcyof the Embassy, a young Frenchman namedMonsieur Frédéric Hulot, protocol,De Faulter, and your Correspondent.

Hulot(a great ass) who dressesà l'Anglaisin apantalon à la gentlemens-ridéres, and rides a grey mare with very long legs in the Champs Elysées, fastened on toMartingale, and gabbled away aboutle Liverpool Stipple ChaseandMonsieur Mason, wanting to know how much an English horse, pure blood, would cost. He was to be showy and very quiet.Martingalerather bluntly told him, he had better learn to ride, before he thought of buying a horse.De Faulterinvited your Correspondent to come and playécartéat the Cercle some evening. A very friendly nice fellow. He was in some cavalry regiment, but sold out. I forget why he left the Rag. Perhaps it was too noisy a club for him.Sheffield Higsonwas holding forth, to the great disgust ofDe Courcy, about the English constitution, maintaining the universal corruption of the Church and aristocracy, and looking forward to the time whenMr. Cobdenshould be at the head of Foreign Affairs, andMr. Brightat the War Office; the revenues of the Church of England being dividedpro ratâamong the schools of various denominations. To confess the truth,Higsonspoils the effect of his excellent political principles by the grossest toad-eating. He never can speak without mentioning some lord as his intimate friend.De Courcylistened to his speculations in horror, and was quite unable to profess his own simple faith—that the House of Peers and the country gentlemen had an exclusive right to the government, and that the devil was the first Whig. He could only turn away, and mutter something about "an infernal snob."Protocolwas boring our host with his views on the Zollverein. Altogether we were uncomfortable together, and were all delighted when dinner was announced.

Thehuîtres de Marenne, those genuine treasures of the deep, had disappeared whenOrtolan, filling a glass of old Grave, said, "Do you know I hate a fellow who says he doesn't like a good dinner. It's generally humbug, and when it isn't that, it's something worse. It shows a want of humanity: he might just as well not like virtue, or be indifferent about cleanliness. A good dinner is better than a bad dinner, exactly as a good man is better than a bad man; and to be without a taste, is as much a defect as to be without a heart. An ancient philosopher" (Ortolanis literary, and has readAthenæs) "has defined man as a cooking animal, with great justice. Advance in cookery accompanies advance in civilisation, and they doubtless will both reach perfection at the same time. The culinary art has a direct effect in refining mankind; in the beautiful words of theLatin Grammar, it is emollient to the manners; nor does it allow them to be rough." (Higson, who has no Latin, here sneered visibly.) "After thispotage bisque aux écrévisses, we feel our hearts expand in universal philanthropy. Who would grovel amid lower dirt when he can nourish his essence with stuff so ambrosial?"

"Well, for my part," said honestMartingale, "I don't care about your French flummery—it's all to hide the taste of the meat. Give me a steak of good English beef, you know what you're eating then. Who knows what this patty has inside it?" "You old heathen," exclaimed the epicure with pity, "eat therefore without inquiry; you should never work your intellect at the same time with your digestion, or you will spoil the operation of both. Eat in silence, for it is good, and thank the happy age and country which puts such delicate things before its sons."

Martingalegrumbled about fellows worshipping a certain portion of their physical constitution, but devoted himself nevertheless to the suspiciouspatéwith great success. The enthusiasm of the less prejudiced part of the guests, amongst whom is of course to be reckoned your open-minded Correspondent, was quickened by somefoie gras, and rose to the highest pitch over asalmiof woodcocks, which even Martingale admitted to be no end of good, although the best woodcocks in the world were to be shot on the governor's manors in Lincolnshire. Protocol here drank the health of thechefin a glass ofCliquot'schampagne amid general applause.

Your Correspondent is aware of the painful effect that would be produced on your readers, condemned to drag on a miserable existence on the indigestible products of an English kitchen, if he were to enumerate and describe the dishes that completed the repast—all light, savoury, succulent, and nourishing. But why, he begs to ask, is it, that with confessedly inferior materials a French artist can make up a dinner, and a good one, where an Anglo Saxon cook only furnishes instruments of stomachic torture? The fact is certain and the answer plain. A Frenchman considers his occupation as an art and throws his soul into it. Success is his ambition and, when achieved, his pride, and he pleases himself when he pleases you. Compare his enlightened enthusiasm with the viewMariarorSoosantakes of hermétier. Think of the impenetrable stupidity, the indolent unconscientiousness, the complacent conceit, and the obstinacy which hardens the hearts towards us of that matron and that maid, and by their hands infuses death into the pot. OMariar! OSoosan! be wise in time, learn your business, and be not slothful therein; listen to a voice of warning from a foreign strand, lest the day arrive when Missus is compelled to descend into the kitchen as Missuses used to do in times gone by, and your empire over your employers be broken up once and for ever.

The generous produce of a Burgundian autumn flamed in our glasses, loosening the tongue and not blunting the wit. The effect was varied and delightful. OldMartingale, who had been very hard on the Lancers of the Guard, admitted that in a campaign the French cavalry might be awkward customers.De Faulterceased his allusions to the card-playing at the Cercle, and his coups atNorris's.Ortolanshowed that he could talk on other subjects than gastronomy, andDe Courcywas civil toSheffield Higson, who, on the other hand, abstained from enumerating his acquaintances among that aristocracy with whose utter worthlessness and degradation he was so much impressed. Your Correspondent, who is always pleasant and equable, was, if possible, more so than usual, and in the intervals of his brilliant sallies, added by acute observation to those stores of limpid wisdom, whence he periodically dispenses to your readers.

We see by the French papers, that an umbrella calledThe Mushroomhas been lately patented in Paris. We are not aware what new peculiarity of construction its inventor has discovered, but we think the the name he has selected is a highly appropriate one, and might with exceeding fitness be applied, not to his alone, but to umbrellas generally. For as mushrooms naturally belong to that class of things which are "here to-day and gone to-morrow," we think their name may very properly be used to designate so fugitive a possession as an umbrella.

Cranks and Crotchets.—The introduction of crank labour into gaols has tended to corroborate the opinion, which is widely prevalent, that prison disciplinarians are apt to be what is vulgarly called "cranky."

SSINCE the practice of giving entertainments to those who entertain the public has been adopted by those who got up the recentdéjeûnertoMr. G. V. Brooke, it was determined by the friends ofMr. Stentor—the great interpreter ofFitzball—to invite that gentleman to a grand Spanish onion feast, which came off at the Cinder Cellars and Dust-hole of harmony, near the New Cut, Lambeth.

SINCE the practice of giving entertainments to those who entertain the public has been adopted by those who got up the recentdéjeûnertoMr. G. V. Brooke, it was determined by the friends ofMr. Stentor—the great interpreter ofFitzball—to invite that gentleman to a grand Spanish onion feast, which came off at the Cinder Cellars and Dust-hole of harmony, near the New Cut, Lambeth.

The room was hung with some of the best specimens from the theatrical gallery ofMarks, and a magnificent portrait ofHicks, asIvanhoe, picked out with tinfoil, and filled in with real red satin, occupied the centre of the wall over the seat of the Chairman. This masterly work of art was appropriately supported on its right by the well-known engraving ofMr. G. Almar, as theKnight of the Cross; and on its left by the highly finished etching ofMr. Crowther, as theFiend of the Sepulchre. A group of Pantomime characters faced the door; and an equestrian piece representing "Miss Woolfordin her favourite act ofThe Reaper," formed a pendant over the chimney-piece.

The supper was of the choicest kind, and embraced all the delicacies of the season that could be procured at the figure per head, which was fixed at the moderate tariff of ninepence, in order to embrace as many lovers of art—and onions—as possible. Thepièce de résistancewas a bit of the roast beef of old England, to which Ireland contributed her national potato, while Scotland sent her broth, and Wales was represented by a magnificent Welch rabbit. Nor was the Continent behind-hand in doing honour to the feast, for in peaceful proximity to the onion of Spain, stood the roll of France, the sausage of Germany, a flask of Lucca's luscious oil, and a few of the world-renowned sprouts of Brussels. After the cloth—and the crumbs—had been removed, the Chairman proposed the health ofMr. Stentor, who had made the voice of the drama heard in the midst of the hoots of a threepenny gallery, and who had fought more combats, assisted more defenceless females, unmasked more villains, and danced more hornpipes than any man in Europe.

When the applause had subsided,Mr. Stentorrose and modestly alluded to his own proud position. He expressed the highest reverence for his art, and declared that he felt almost awe-stricken when he trod the same boards that had been indented by the honoured heels ofHicks, and looked upon the same sky-borders that had been shaken by the screams ofCartlitch. He,Mr. Stentor, had had the honour of acting in the same company with those great men, and he must say that he felt his bosom swell when he remembered that the greatCrowtherhad hung upon it when, as the torturedKhan, he lamented his "lost child;" and when he,Mr. Stentor, remembered that that "child" was no other than the illustriousHicks, he,Mr. Stentor, felt that he had indeed, in the words of the immortalAmherst(J. H.), been "in goodly company." He,Mr. Stentor, would not hope to equal these great men, nor would he ask that the mantle of any of them should fall upon him; but if either of them should have an old coat to spare, he did humbly ask that he might be allowed to aspire to wear it.

Mr. Stentor'sspeech was received with the most enthusiastic clatter of pint pots, which lasted for several minutes.

The Chairman then pronounced a most impressive eulogium onWiddicomb, which was received in solemn silence.

This was responded to by aShaksperianjester and clown to the ring, the friend and adviser ofWiddicomb, who, among other advice, advised him to sit still and say nothing.

The Chairman, in the course of the evening, observed that "the drama could never be in a decline while it had the support of such lungs as those of his friendStentor."

After the health ofMr. Biddles, of the Bower Saloon, who acknowledged the compliment with a neat nod, the party broke up at a late hour.

"A Medical Breakfast has come to be almost a part of the regular proceedings of the British Association—and the last meeting at Hull offered no exception."—Athenæum.

We understand that the bill of fare included Senna Tea, Cream of Tartar, Sugar of Lead, Butter of Antimony, Saffron Cake, Rhubarb Tart, and Antimony Wine. Spatulæ were laid for forty.—Punch.

A Duet.Nicholas—Francis.

[Da Capo ad lib.

WWE perfectly agree withMr. Alderman Sidney—the Lord Mayor elect—that the great civic show of the Ninth of November is a vital element in our social and commercial life.Whittington'scat still purrs encouragingly down generations.Walworth'sdagger is a bright and keen realty; and not the air-drawn blade that the utility-mongers would make of it. The influence of the Lord Mayor's Show is no doubt felt in the remotest parts of this island. The rumbling of the wheels of the state coach is heard in the dreams of youthful sleepers a-bed, it may be, in garrets at the Land's End.Alderman Sidneyfeels all the poetry of this; therefore the City of London is safe in his enthusiastic keeping.

WE perfectly agree withMr. Alderman Sidney—the Lord Mayor elect—that the great civic show of the Ninth of November is a vital element in our social and commercial life.Whittington'scat still purrs encouragingly down generations.Walworth'sdagger is a bright and keen realty; and not the air-drawn blade that the utility-mongers would make of it. The influence of the Lord Mayor's Show is no doubt felt in the remotest parts of this island. The rumbling of the wheels of the state coach is heard in the dreams of youthful sleepers a-bed, it may be, in garrets at the Land's End.Alderman Sidneyfeels all the poetry of this; therefore the City of London is safe in his enthusiastic keeping.

ButMr. Alderman Sidney—if we may believe a very general report—proposes to endow the Show with a purpose of instruction. He will inform outward bravery with an inward teaching. Thus, as a prosperous tea-merchant, the new Lord Mayor will have a new state coach built and ornamented as a magnificent tea-chest upon wheels; and will further have his coachman and footmen drest after the approved fashion ofTien-Te, in remote but no less sincere compliment to Young China,viceOld China chipped, cracked, and falling to pieces.

As we know that the Russians require oleaginous food, is it not possible that, after devouring Turkey, the Czar may take a fancy to "Greece?" Should he do so, is it not probable that "Genuine Russian Bear's Greece" will no longer be a fiction?

It is said that the agitation for the constitution of a Greek empire is the politic work of Russia. That if others supply the eloquence, the Greek fire of talk—it is Russia that stands the shot.

THE HORRORS OF WARTHE HORRORS OF WAR.First Newmarket Boy."Awful work this, Bill. We're a goin' to war with Roosia!"Second Ditto."Well, wot odds?"First Ditto."Wot odds? Why, there won't be no Hemperor's Cup next year, that's all!"

First Newmarket Boy."Awful work this, Bill. We're a goin' to war with Roosia!"

Second Ditto."Well, wot odds?"

First Ditto."Wot odds? Why, there won't be no Hemperor's Cup next year, that's all!"

WHEN the trumpet's call to arms shall in Turkey's quarrel sound,On the field of Europe's war shallJohn Bullbe backward found?No, byGeorge! to the fray like a war-steed let him bound,Prepared to fall or conquer, with expensive laurels crowned.Our heroes like water their blood abroad shall pour;Our money shall also be scattered as of yore:We have done it oftentimes, and we'll do it yet once more,Even though we get worse off than we ever got before.Should the nations draw the sword, it will be a grand affair,With "Now or Never Liberty!" for a cry to rend the air:Sore loss, whichever way it goes, ourselves will have to bear,But that we've made our minds up to, and therefore need not care.'Tis hard in others' quarrels to be forced to interpose,But point me out the craven base that hesitation shows,And I'll punch his wretched head and wring his despicable nose,Forward! no matter how we swell the debt the nation owes.Let the sword leap from the scabbard while the frantic bugles bray,Draw, England, draw the purse as well that must be flung away,Charge! and in charging never think how much you'll have to pay;To the Brave there will be time to talk of that another day!

WHEN the trumpet's call to arms shall in Turkey's quarrel sound,

On the field of Europe's war shallJohn Bullbe backward found?

No, byGeorge! to the fray like a war-steed let him bound,

Prepared to fall or conquer, with expensive laurels crowned.

Our heroes like water their blood abroad shall pour;Our money shall also be scattered as of yore:We have done it oftentimes, and we'll do it yet once more,Even though we get worse off than we ever got before.

Our heroes like water their blood abroad shall pour;

Our money shall also be scattered as of yore:

We have done it oftentimes, and we'll do it yet once more,

Even though we get worse off than we ever got before.

Should the nations draw the sword, it will be a grand affair,With "Now or Never Liberty!" for a cry to rend the air:Sore loss, whichever way it goes, ourselves will have to bear,But that we've made our minds up to, and therefore need not care.

Should the nations draw the sword, it will be a grand affair,

With "Now or Never Liberty!" for a cry to rend the air:

Sore loss, whichever way it goes, ourselves will have to bear,

But that we've made our minds up to, and therefore need not care.

'Tis hard in others' quarrels to be forced to interpose,But point me out the craven base that hesitation shows,And I'll punch his wretched head and wring his despicable nose,Forward! no matter how we swell the debt the nation owes.

'Tis hard in others' quarrels to be forced to interpose,

But point me out the craven base that hesitation shows,

And I'll punch his wretched head and wring his despicable nose,

Forward! no matter how we swell the debt the nation owes.

Let the sword leap from the scabbard while the frantic bugles bray,Draw, England, draw the purse as well that must be flung away,Charge! and in charging never think how much you'll have to pay;To the Brave there will be time to talk of that another day!

Let the sword leap from the scabbard while the frantic bugles bray,

Draw, England, draw the purse as well that must be flung away,

Charge! and in charging never think how much you'll have to pay;

To the Brave there will be time to talk of that another day!

TheEarl of Aberdeen, at the late Privy Council, looked very much pressed and flattened. It is said that, for some weeks past, the noble Earl has suffered a nightly dream, in which he believes himself turned to a bagpipe, with theEmperor of Russia, horned and tailed, playing upon him.

The present mode of advertising seems to be by asking a question and, from the general use of the process, we presume that the questioning is found to answer. Somebody asks us every day, "Who would be without a dressing case?" and another attempts to tickle our vanity by addressing to us the inquiry, "Do you keep livery servants?" and suggesting to us theéclatof an imaginary retinue. Another wants to know, "Why pay more than sixteen shillings for your trowsers?"—a question we hardly like to dwell upon, for it presents to our mind the still more interesting question, "Why pay anything at all, and why not victimise your tailor?"

Talking of advertisements reminds us of one which daily offers to dye our hair, including the whole head for a crown, and our whiskers for "a shilling upwards." It would be important to know how far "upwards" we could have our whiskers dyed for that moderate sum, as it would be awkward to have them a rich Prussian blue about the jaw, a piebald in the middle, and a good old natural grey on the cheek-bone. The same accommodating person, who promises to dye us permanently for five shillings, offers, if we don't like the look of ourselves when we've been regularly done, to give us our money back again. This would be but a sorry compensation for one who had exchanged the simplicity of nature for the variegated hues of art, and who, in the hope of becoming once more the youthful beau, had qualified himself for the part of the rainbow. Before, standing the "hazard of the dye," we, likeRichard the Third, had rather see "Hastings'shead," or anybody else's head, a month after the operation.

A few days agoMr. Gladstonereceived, carefully packed in an oaken box, and nicely enveloped in many folds of tissue paper, a massive handsome silver poker. It bore on the squared end this inscription:—"Presented to stir the Minister to stir himself to enable the country to stir a cheaper coal."

A TERRIBLE TURKA TERRIBLE TURK."I will Fight! He Hit me First!"

"I will Fight! He Hit me First!"

WWE have had our attention called to a complaint which, it seems, has long been prevalent throughout the kingdom, although but little notice hitherto has publicly been taken of it. It threatens now, however, to become as prolific a source of correspondence as the Cholera; and scarcely aTimespasses, without at least a column of "Constant Readers" on the subject.

WE have had our attention called to a complaint which, it seems, has long been prevalent throughout the kingdom, although but little notice hitherto has publicly been taken of it. It threatens now, however, to become as prolific a source of correspondence as the Cholera; and scarcely aTimespasses, without at least a column of "Constant Readers" on the subject.

We are not aware if a specific name has as yet been found for it; but we think it may be best described, perhaps, as a sort of Inn-fluenza, although it certainly in some degree resembles also a remittent fever, seeing that the sufferers cannot generally make progress without a remittance. And it partakes still further of a febrile character, since it usually is attended with irritation in the patient.

Of the symptoms which lead to it, perhaps the most painful is a species of opthalmia, which commonly afflicts the patient with the most distressing ocular delusions. He has been even known, under its influence, to declare that he can see only a pint of wine in a decanter, which his attendants have assured him contains a bottle; and candles, which he similarly has been told are wax, he has frequently been found unable to distinguish from composite. The sense of taste, too, it seems, is similarly affected. When offered pale ale, the patient not unfrequently will pronounce it to be swipes; and in some cases he has actually mistaken that for Cape, which is warranted, and even charged for, as Madeira.

We trust that the urgency of this complaint being now admitted, efficient means will be at once devised to stop it. There is little doubt, we think, that the sufferers hitherto have been bled too freely, and another course of treatment should be certainly adopted. We do not generally advocate the use of the knife, but in this complaint decidedly, wherever any person is attacked by the symptoms which may lead to it, we do not know if we can well prescribe a surer remedy than cutting.

(By the Author of "All the Great Metropolises".)

[We rather think the following letter has reached us by mistake, and must have been intended for one of our morning contemporaries. However, we print it.—Ed.]

LETTER XLIII.

While I am on the Continent I feel quite different to what I do when I am on an island. The sensation that if you leave one country you can immediately go into another, without the intervention of whatLord Byronhas so beautifully called the Blue Ocean, (although the ocean or sea is not always blue, but often green) between the two neighbourhoods, produces a curious effect upon my idiosyncrasy. At the same time I must confess that this metaphysical feeling does not apply to Paris, because that city is in the centre of a large country, and if I wished to leave it (which at present I do not), I should have to traverse a considerable extent of territory.

Yesterday I visited the Madelaine, which is a church, and stands near the Boulevards, and the front looks towards the Place de la Concorde, a locality which has also had various other names, which, if I knew them, as I am "free to confess" (as they say in a certain place which I have already immortalised) I do not, would naturally suggest to the mind a long train of instructive historical thoughts, although as the Madelaine, ifGalignani'sGuidemay be trusted, was not built until after the principal events connected with the Place de la Concorde had occurred, to remember them here would be a case ofpost hoc et prompter hoc(I translate for the benefit of the fair sex—"because you are here you are prompted to think of that there,") and as I am travelling to instruct myself and my readers, I wish to avoidpersiflage. The Madelaine is a building which has cost considerable sums of money, and it is a remarkable coincidence that it is Greek in style though intended forRomanCatholic worship, but such are the anomalies and anachronisms which strike the intelligent traveller. Thefaçade, or altar-piece, is painted in very bright colours, with mythological allusions to theEmperor Napoleon Bonaparte, and other well-known individuals. The effect of the exterior is something like that of the Licensed Victuallers' Asylum at Woking Buzzard, but I think in many respects inferior to that worthy and laudable institution, of which an Englishman (I do not particularly refer to a talented, gifted, and irascible correspondent) is so justly proud. I only staid five minutes; service was not being performed, and there was no person in the church but myself, but this was enough to inspire me with the utmost contempt for the mummeries of the Roman Catholic creed, and with pity for the blinded and unenlightened individuals who indulge therein.

The day being fine, or as they say in France,ce est une beau journal, I lounged along the Boulevards, and remarked that human nature was the same in every climate. I then went down the Rue de la Paix—you will observe that I am now quite familiar with the old parts of the City of Paris—and after some turnings came to the Cathedral of Notre Dame, which is certainly fine, although devoted to a false religion, which, however, does not alter the architecture, and I hope I am too candid not to draw the distinction between the external and the internal aspects of an edifice. To adopt a metaphor, the sign of a tavern may be well painted, although the beer sold within may not be good; but in saying this, I wish to be understood to speak generally, and not with reference to any particular establishment, far less to swell that illiberal cry against hotel-keepers (many of whom are most worthy and honourable men) which my antagonist—whom it is my mission to crush—in Printing House Square continually raises.

But,revenions a nous moutions, ("to return to business") I was greatly pleased, or shall I say amused, with a highly dramatic scene which occurred in the course of my walk. I shall never forget it, and it may take its place "in this distracted orb" (Shakspere'sHamlet) beside that other joke, which, as I have already told my readers, will throw me into paradoxes of laughter at any hour or time. Wake me and tell me the house is on fire, assure me there is an earthquake, let me hear that a printer's unpardonable carelessness has made a newspaper under my charge say a reverend clergyman reached beforePrince Albertinstead of preached before H. R. H., and that the Court refuses to receive my published apology; still, if you tell me the joke in question, I shall laugh. But I think the following dialogue is as rich as the other,Arcades ambo, (the fair sex must excuse me if I do not translate this). I saw a respectable gentleman's handkerchief protruding from his coat pocket, and knowing the disagreeableness of finding that humble but useful article missing, especially in the influenza period, I thought I would waive ceremony, and though unintroduced, suggest to him the advisability of a precautionary measure. So, touching my hat with some playfulness, I said, "Monsieur, vous voulez perdre votre parapluie." (I must not translate this, or the joke will be lost.)

"Ah!" he replied, adding, after a pause, "Bah!"

But as he did not replace his handkerchief, I, who am not easily daunted, returned to the attack.

"Mais, Monsieur, vous n'attendez pas a moi." (Sir, you do not attend to me.)

"Diable!" he exclaimed, impatiently. As I never permit any of our own correspondents to use this word, I shall not break my own laws by rendering it into the vernacular.

A compatriot of my own here came up, and with the sportiveness allowable to intimacy, said,

"What's the row?"

I explained that I had given the French gentleman a caution as to hisparapluie, to which I pointed as sticking out of his pocket.

"That's hismouchoir," said my friend, laughing heartily, as did the gentleman when the mistake was explained to him, and we all took off our hats to one another. These little amenities cost nothing, but yet may be bright oases on the ordinary stream of the battle of life.

I must reserve until to-morrow my narrative of the taking of the Bastille, which naturally occurred to me as I gazed upon the column in the Place Vendôme, and I shall probably offer some instructive observations upon the literature and religion of the country in which I now find myself. But I can truly say, "England" (which includes Scotland, and also poor Ireland) "with all thy faults, my heart still turns to thee," a thought which must comfort those countries during my temporary absence.

It is said that "Steam annihilates both Time and Space." It is a thousand pities, for our comfort in railway travelling, that its annihilating powers will sometimes extend, also, to—human beings.

THIS IS THE PROTECTION A PLAID AFFORDSTHIS IS THE PROTECTION A PLAID AFFORDS TO THOSE WHO DO NOT KNOW THE WAY TO CARRY IT.

(From a countryman of his.)

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye wakin' yet,And are our drums a beatin' yet,The journals lee,Or fra' all we see,The Russians are not retreatin' yet?Hey,Aberdeen, are ye writin' yet,In hollow phrases delightin' yet,While on Danube's banksThae hostile ranksAre makin' ready for fightin' yet?Hey,Aberdeen, are ye prosin' yet,On your council sofas a dozin' yet,To the old world's sneers,And the new world's jeers,Your country's honour exposin' yet?Hey,Aberdeen, are ye twaddlin' yet,And over yer red tape dawdlin' yetAboutNick'sgood faith,And his power, and baith,To your weary colleagues a maudlin' yet?Hey,Aberdeen, are ye Premier yet,We must have some cleverer schemer yet,Or the Russian catWhom ye love to pat,Will be over to lick up her cream here yet.

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye wakin' yet,And are our drums a beatin' yet,The journals lee,Or fra' all we see,The Russians are not retreatin' yet?

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye wakin' yet,

And are our drums a beatin' yet,

The journals lee,

Or fra' all we see,

The Russians are not retreatin' yet?

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye writin' yet,In hollow phrases delightin' yet,While on Danube's banksThae hostile ranksAre makin' ready for fightin' yet?

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye writin' yet,

In hollow phrases delightin' yet,

While on Danube's banks

Thae hostile ranks

Are makin' ready for fightin' yet?

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye prosin' yet,On your council sofas a dozin' yet,To the old world's sneers,And the new world's jeers,Your country's honour exposin' yet?

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye prosin' yet,

On your council sofas a dozin' yet,

To the old world's sneers,

And the new world's jeers,

Your country's honour exposin' yet?

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye twaddlin' yet,And over yer red tape dawdlin' yetAboutNick'sgood faith,And his power, and baith,To your weary colleagues a maudlin' yet?

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye twaddlin' yet,

And over yer red tape dawdlin' yet

AboutNick'sgood faith,

And his power, and baith,

To your weary colleagues a maudlin' yet?

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye Premier yet,We must have some cleverer schemer yet,Or the Russian catWhom ye love to pat,Will be over to lick up her cream here yet.

Hey,Aberdeen, are ye Premier yet,

We must have some cleverer schemer yet,

Or the Russian cat

Whom ye love to pat,

Will be over to lick up her cream here yet.

"The true art of dining consists in dining at your country's expense."—Young Stafford.

A splendidbanquet was yesterday given byMessrs. PueandPhittto their friends and connexions, to commemorate what may be termed the coming of age of their establishment; the extensive bone-boiling and horse-slaughtering concern, and catgut manufactory, situated in a densely populated part of the above district: which, having now arrived at the standing of 30 years, is exempt from the operation of the Nuisances Removal Act.

Dinner was served in a large shed on the premises, fitted up for the occasion, having been decorated with much attention to taste, and plentifully sprinkled with chloride of lime in equally judicious regard to smell.

The usual loyal toasts having been dispensed with, and "Our Noble Selves" substituted in their place, the senior partner proposed the toast of the evening. He said he was glad, in times like the present, when alarmists were making such efforts to lead people by the nose in a crusade against everybody who gave the slightest inconvenience to that organ, to see himself, and his friend at the other extremity of the table, surrounded by so numerous and respectable an assembly of well-wishers. He was proud of the support of the strong minds that despised a squeamish agitation, and of the strong stomachs—the two always went together—that asserted themselves in meeting to afford that support in that place. The interest that he and his partner had the honour of representing might be called one of the Institutions of Southwark; and they prided themselves upon the fact that their premises were, as a wag had observed, among the peculiar fetors of the locality. The odour of profit was pleasant, in the opinion of a wise man, no matter what the profit was made out of, and the surrounding district was rich in effluvia, and he hoped no dainty legislation would ever impoverish it. Bones were not boiled—dogsmeat was not made—catgut was not manufactured—with lavender-water. But what was called a perfume was often more unhealthy than the reverse. Flowers, for instance, were considered by the faculty bad for a sick room; and on the other hand, what could be more wholesome than physic, and what more nasty? The salubrity of the atmosphere they were then inhaling, was proved by the fact that himself and his family had been breathing it for the last thirty years; and that led him to the toast he was about to propose. The establishment which they were met to celebrate the prosperity of, had now completed the thirtieth year of its existence. It had, in fact, attained its majority, and was now no longer under that control that an infant business of the same nature is subject to. The monster nuisance, as it had been invidiously called, was no longer amenable to the Nuisances Removal Act. The young Giant was out of his nonage; and those who wished to grapple with him must do it in the Court of Quarter Sessions—where he defied them. He would now then give them the young Giant's good health; they would drink, if they pleased, Perpetuity to the Premises, and Success to Sulphuretted Hydrogen and Ammonia.

The toast was drunk with all the odours.

The other member of the firm briefly expressed his thanks for the kind and enthusiastic manner in which the company had responded to his worthy partner; which, he declared, quite delighted his old bones.

After a series of other anti-sanitary toasts and sentiments, the company separated at a late hour in an excited state, having, as a facetious gentleman remarked with a strong emphasis on the first syllable of the epithet, partaken of an entertainment that was trulysump-tuous.

We are informed that a communication of an interesting nature has been made to the Tuscan Government in reference to the imprisonment ofMiss Cunninghamefor giving away a Bible and aPilgrim's Progress. Through theHon. Mr. Scarlett, acting as Chargé d'Affaires in the temporary absence ofSir Henry Bulwer,Lord Aberdeenis said to have requested the opinion of theGrand Duke Leopoldand his Cabinet respecting a measure of great importance in regard to the principle of toleration, contemplated very seriously byHer Majesty'sMinisters. The projected enactment which has thus been submitted to the consideration of the Tuscan Sovereign and his advisers is based on the principle whereon is also founded the article in their penal code under whichMiss Cunninghamehas been incarcerated. It treats the attempt to convert any person from the State religion as a crime against the State, and inflicts imprisonment with hard labour for that offence. Under its operation any Roman Catholic, convicted of making a present to a member of the Established Church of a "Garden of the Soul," or a crucifix, will be tried for sedition andCardinal Wisemanwill inevitably be sent to the treadmill.

What is better than a right of way through the Park?A right of curds and whey at the Lodge gate.

The British Stentor.—The most powerful voice in the country is that of the man who can utter most money.

OOLIVES are to be grown in Edinburgh. We rejoice to hear the news. The Scotch have always been distinguished for meekness and (after breakfast) even mealy-mouthedness. They have, nevertheless, been shamefully libelled by history. The national spirit has been designated theperfervidum genium Scotorum!No such thing.Caledoniawas ever mild as milk: in the time even ofAgricola, it was well known that butter would not melt in her mouth. This meek, pacific quality of Scotland has been wickedly disguised and libelled, butCobdenandBrighthave resolved to vindicate the truth. Eagles never did breed in Scotland—they were only doves, sucking-doves, of a larger size. And as for the thistle, with that hostile, spiteful, unbrotherly motto,Nemo me impune lacessit,—Scotland shall henceforth assume as her floral type the simple "gowan fine."

OLIVES are to be grown in Edinburgh. We rejoice to hear the news. The Scotch have always been distinguished for meekness and (after breakfast) even mealy-mouthedness. They have, nevertheless, been shamefully libelled by history. The national spirit has been designated theperfervidum genium Scotorum!No such thing.Caledoniawas ever mild as milk: in the time even ofAgricola, it was well known that butter would not melt in her mouth. This meek, pacific quality of Scotland has been wickedly disguised and libelled, butCobdenandBrighthave resolved to vindicate the truth. Eagles never did breed in Scotland—they were only doves, sucking-doves, of a larger size. And as for the thistle, with that hostile, spiteful, unbrotherly motto,Nemo me impune lacessit,—Scotland shall henceforth assume as her floral type the simple "gowan fine."

We are happy to learn that the peace festival will be celebrated with appropriate beauty of imagery and plenteousness of fare. We have gathered a few of the particulars; and although we do not vouch for the fullness of the description—for the time will yet admit of many improvements—nevertheless the subjoined will be found a very fair sketch of the approaching ceremony.

At day-break, Mons Meg will be fired; being loaded with a cotton-ball, brought from Manchester by one of her Members,John Bright. A procession—forming at Holyrood House—will proceed (weather permitting) to the summit of Arthur's Seat. We give a few of the more important characters in the pageant.

Mr. Cobden(crowned with corn) will lead a Bear in a string of daisies; the Bear "crumpled" a little about the ears, and muzzled with the finest bit of cotton twist.

Mr. Brightwill lead a Turkey in chains of pork sausages!

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