Both.

Just a little too much.—When a parliamentary candidate or popular Member is received with a torchlight procession, it is almost unnecessary for his constituents to present him, on a dark night, with "an illuminated address."

"VOICI LE SABRE DE MON PÈRE!"

"I intend to protect the principle of autocracy as firmly and unswervingly as did my late and never-to-be-forgotten father."—Czar's Speech, Jan. 29.

THE FRENCH AMNESTY.

Bruxelles, le 31. Janvier.

Monsieur,—I write to you, M. Punch, these some words, which I essay to write in english. I come of to receive—how say you la nouvelle?—the new of the amnesty in France. The government which banished the descendant of the great Napoléon has recalled some exileds. But he has not recalled me, ce gouvernement infâme! He has left to languish the heir of the crown imperial in this droll of little town. Nom d'une pipe, quelle ville! Rien qu'un Palais de Justice et quelques rues désertes! But I go to write in english. I rest here, at five hours of Paris, alldays ready, alldays vigilant. Mais que c'est triste! Tiens, it is not perhaps so sad as that—how write you the name?—that Stove, in your département of the Bukkinhammshir. At least one speak french in this country. It is not the french of Paris, or the french of Touraine, but all of same it values better than english—a language so difficult. Thus I rest here, I walk myself to horse in their Wood of Cambre, I visit of time in time the Palace of Justice and Ste. Gudule, et voilà c'est fini! Then I recommence and I see, encore une fois, the Bois, the Palais, and the Cathédrale. I go not to Waterloo, for people say my Great Ancestor there was conquered by your Duc of Welintong. One has wrong, the historians have wrong, mais enfin, que faire? I may not to write the history of new. A l'avenir nous verrons. En attendant j'attends. And I stand, like my Great Ancestor, the arms folded, and frown towards the frontier of the France, la patrie ingrate. It is a fine attitude, and I study it all the days.

Agréez, &c. N.

Stowe, the 31. January.

Sir,—I tell you my thoughts as calmly as possibly, but my heart burns! Heaven, what injustice! To France—ah, I say not her name without emotion!—to France I offered my sword, my service, my life! She refused them! Ingrateful country! Me who—but I go to be calm! When Casimir-Périer resigns I voyage without to lose an instant to Dover, I wait, I receive each instant some despatch, I regard the coast of France and weep, I am photographed! Me, the descendant of St. Louis, I am photographed! But in vain! I desire even to die for France, but I may not! By blue, what ingratitude! And now she proclaims the amnesty and I am forgotten! Me, the descendant of St. Louis! Me who desire the struggle, the efforts of a life of soldier, of a life of king, me I rest here in simple renter of province! Me who wish to die for France, I am obliged to live in England! To live, just heaven! And in England, which I despise, though she shelters me! Perhaps she is not worse than Belgium, Buckingham or Bruxelles! It is equal to me! Nor the one nor the other is France! Again I weep! Ah, if I could shed tears of blood! I can not! Heaven, that I should not have even that consolation there! And Rochefort returns! He may die for his country, for France! Once more I weep bitterly! But me I may not! I conclude, and my last word shall be a word of order! It shall be, though she spurns me, though she mock herself of me, "Live France!" Again I weep! Receive, &c. P.

SUCCESSFUL SANITATION.

Anxious Tourist. "Since your Town has been newly drained, I suppose there is less Fever here?"

Hotel-Keeper (reassuringly). "Ach, yes, Sir! Ze Teefoose (Typhus) is now quite ze exception!"

"VOICI LE SABRE DE MON PÈRE!"

["Let all know that, in devoting all my strength to the welfare of the people, I intend to protect the principle of autocracy as firmly and unswervingly as did my late and never-to-be-forgotten father."

The Czar to the assembled Deputies and Delegates in the Winter Palace.]