The _Illustrated London News_ well embodied this thought in the following comment: "Doubtless what has occurred during the last few weeks has also a meaning for the Heir Apparent to the Throne. No man of the slightest sensibility can witness the emotional effusion of a great nation towards himself without being deeply impressed with the responsibilities of his position. The Prince comes back to the British people from the brink of the tomb, and they who most pathetically lamented his danger hail his return to health with devout thanksgivings and acclamations of joy. Can there be a more powerful incentive to that course of future action which will commend him to their approbation and their love? That he will recognize and respond to it, we cannot allow ourselves to doubt." One of the interesting incidents of the illness was the fact that when the announcement was made that His Royal Highness might only survive a few hours his obituary was, of course, prepared and put in type in all the leading newspaper offices in the land to an extent varying from the pages of a metropolitan daily down to the half dozen columns of the Provincial press. Proofs of the obituaries were, it is understood, afterwards collected and sent to the Prince, who had them pasted into an immense scrap-book at Marlborough House. The Thanksgiving Day celebration commenced on February 27th at 12 o'clock, when Her Majesty the Queen, accompanied by the Prince and Princess of Wales and the Princess Beatrice and Prince Albert Victor of Wales, drove through the gates of Buckingham Palace. There were nine Royal carriages in the procession, containing a number of ladies and gentlemen of the Court, and the Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Arthur, Prince Leopold and Prince George of Wales. With the latter was the Marquess of Aylesbury, Master of the Horse; Mr. Brand, Speaker of the House of Commons; Lord Hatherley, the Lord Chancellor. H. R. H. the Duke of Cambridge, Commander-in-Chief, headed the procession as it passed slowly through Pall Mall, Charing Cross, the Strand, Fleet Street and Ludgate Hill to St. Paul's Cathedral. The streets were lined with dense masses of people, while every shop-window, doorstep, portico and available roof were black with cheering throngs. Decorations there were of every sort and range--squalid or simple or splendid--but all representing pleasure and loyalty. Along Fleet Street and the Strand they took the form of an actual canopy of banners, standards, streamers and strings of flowers. Venetian masts, flying pennons, countless trophies and miniature shields, with varied mottoes and many kinds of loyal wishes, were seen all along the route. A band of school children numbering 30,000 sang the National Anthem in Green Park, while soldiers lined the roadway from the Palace to the Cathedral. Hearty and enthusiastic cheers greeted the Royal party, and the Queen and Princess were described as looking bright and happy, and the Prince as being pale, but not thin.