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The Battle of Spithead.—The Queen held a grand Naval Review at Spithead. 73 The Doom of Westminster Bridge was fulfilled in 1862 by the opening of the beautiful structure built by Mr. Page. 79 A Present for Aberdeen.—Lord Aberdeen was suspected of Russian tendencies. 95             "     " 238 Flowers of the Towzerey Plant.—The Towzerey Gang was a set of swindling warehousemen well exposed by the Times. 104 A Consultation about the State of Turkey.—Turkey was described at this time as "the sick man." 119 Tavern Experience.—See large cut below. 128 The Institution of our Spectre of Chelsea.—An Apparition called the Lady of Salette was said to have appeared to a Shepherd boy, and was accredited by the Romish Church. 131 Memorial to Bellot.—A Monument to the memory of this gallant Frenchman, who perished during one of our Polar Expeditions, is erected opposite to Greenwich Hospital. 186 A Letter and an Answer.—The Cholera was rife at this time. 197 A Nuisance in the City, &c.—The Corporation of London strongly opposed the Health of Towns' Bill. 199 Lord Sid-nee Show.—Sidney was a Tea-dealer. 204 A Bishop on Things Solid.—A most ridiculous movement was made in the City to obtain subscriptions for a Statue for Prince Albert. It was very properly discountenanced at Court. 206             "     " 208 A Lonely Square.—This was the age of "stick-ups." 222 The Remonstrance, and A New Chime for Bow Bells.—The Lord Mayor and Corporation of London had fallen, sadly "fallen from their high estate" in public estimation. 228 Expostulation with Palmerston.—Lord Palmerston had left the Ministry at this time. See Introduction. 258

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MR. PUNCH IN DUBLIN.

"Yes, with much pleasure," said Mr. Punch, M.P. for England, as he entered the Octagon Hall in Parliament Palace; and, in his usual elegant and affable manner, extended his white-gloved hand to a courtly gentleman who had requested his presence.

"I was sure you would say so," said the gentleman, and he raised a finger. A watchful official at a door instantly turned to the electric dial, and Mr. Punch's gracious assent was known at Holyhead, before he had finished congratulating his companion, in the most truly charming style, on a promised knighthood, of which the Viceroy of Ireland had whispered something to Mr. Punch.

"No man ever earned his spurs better than the man who has been spurring railways into increased activity for so many years," said Mr. Punch, with a beautiful bow.

"I have not called you from the House at an unfortunate time, I trust, Sir," said the other. "Not that you can ever be spared, but—"

"William Gladstone is quite up to his work," replied the great patriot. "He has but a couple of dozen of the Brigade in hand at present, and he is tossing up one after the other, cup-and-ball fashion, cupping or spiking him to taste, with the precision of a Ramo Samee. I can leave William. Let us go."

"You will take care that no other passenger is put into Mr. Punch's coupé, guard," said the gentleman, as the Euston whistle sounded.

"No masculine passenger, please tell him, Mr. Roney," said Mr. Punch, facetiously. "Good night."

"This Irish journey is capitally done, certainly," said Mr. Punch, as, thirteen hours later, he found himself over his coffee and prawns in Sackville Street, on a radiant morning, and all the bright eyes of Dublin sparkling round the door of his hotel, eagerly glancing towards his balcony. Mr. Punch rushed forth, serviette in hand. His large heart beat high at the sight of so much loveliness, and at the sound of those angel-voices, rising into musical cheering.

"Bless you, my darlings!" Mr. Punch could say no more, but finished his prawns, and, throwing his manly form upon a jaunting car, he dashed over the