"There has for the last few days been a smile on the face _of every
well-dressed gentleman_, and _of every well-to-do artisan_, who wend their
way along the streets of this vast metropolis. It is caused by the
opposition exhibition of Friday night in the House of Commons."
Such is the comfortable announcement of a Tory morning paper,--the very
incarnation of spiteful imbecility. Such is the self-complacency of the
old Tory hag, that in her wildest moments would bite excessively,--if she
only had teeth. She has, however, in the very simplicity of her smirking,
let out the whole secret--has, in the sweet serenity of her satisfaction,
revealed the selfishness, the wickedness of her creed. _Toryism believes
only in the well-dressed and the well-to-do_. Purple and fine linen are
the instrumental parts of her religion. She subscribes, in fact, to
forty-three points; four meals a day being added to her Christian
Thirty-nine Articles. Her faith is in glossy raiment and a full belly. She
has such a reverence for the loaves and fishes, that in the fulness of her
devotion, she would eat them--as the author of the _Almanach des
Gourmands_ advises the epicure to eat a certain exquisite dainty--"on her
knees." She would die a martyr at the fire;--but then it must be lighted
in the kitchen.
The parliamentary exhibition which, according to the _Sycorax_ of
Toryism--a _Sycorax_ with double malice, but no potency--has set all the
well-dressed and well-to-do part of "this vast metropolis" off in one
simultaneous simper, took place on the following motion made by Mr.
FIELDEN:--
"Resolved,--That the distress of the working people at the present time is
so great through the country, but particularly in the manufacturing
districts, that it is the duty of this House to make instant inquiry into
the cause and extent of such distress, and devise means to remedy it; and,
at all events, to vote no supply of money until such inquiry be
made."--(Hear, hear.)
This motion was negatived by 149 to 41; and it is to this negative that,
according to the avowal of our veracious contemporary, we owe the radiant
looks that have lighted up the streets of London for the past few days. In
the same sense of the writer, but in the better words of the chorus of
_Tom Thumb_--
"Nature seemed to wear a universal grin!"
It being always premised and settled that the term nature only comprehends
the people with sleek coats and full stomachs. Nature abhors a
vacuum,--therefore has nought to do with empty bellies. Happy are the men
whose fate, or better philosophy, has kept them from the turnips and the
heather--fortunate mortals, who, banned from the murder of partridges and
grouse, have for the last few days of our contemporary, been dwellers in
merry London! What exulting faces! What crowds of well-dressed, well-fed
_Malvolios_, "smiling" at one another, though not cross-gartered! To a man
prone to ponder on that many-leaved, that scribbled, blurred and blotted
volume, the human face,--that mysterious tome printed with care, with
cunning and remorse,--that thing of lies, and miseries, and hypocritic
gladness,--that volume, stained with tears, and scribbled over and over
with daily wants, and daily sufferings, and daily meannesses;--to such a
reader who, from the hieroglyphic lines of feigned content, can translate
the haggard spirit and the pining heart,--to such a man too often
depressed and sickened by the contemplation of the carnivorous faces
thronging the streets of London--faces that look as if they deemed the
stream of all human happiness flowed only from the Mint,--to such a man,
how great the satisfaction, how surpassing the enjoyment of these "last
few days!" As with the Thane of Cawdor, every man's face has been a book;
but, alas! luckier than _Macbeth_, that book has been--_Joe Miller!_
Every well-dressed gentleman has smiled, but then the source of his
satisfaction has been the rags fluttering on the human carcases in the
manufacturing districts. Every well-to-do artisan has wended his way along
the streets showing his teeth, but then at his own sweet will he can
employ those favoured instruments on roast or boiled: hence his smile for
those who, gifted with the like weapons, bear them as men bear court
swords, for ornament, not use. Alas! the smirk of the well-dressed may be
struck into blank astonishment by the fluttering of rags--by a standard of
tatters borne by a famine-maddened myriad; the teeth of the dragon want
may be sown, and the growth may, as of old, be armed men.
Yet can we wonder at the jocoseness of those arrayed in lawn and
broad-cloth--can we marvel at the simper of the artisan fresh from his
beef and pudding, solaced with tobacco and porter? Surely not; for the
smile breaks under the highest patronage; nay, even broad grins would have
the noblest warranty, for his Grace the Duke of Wellington has pronounced
rags to be the livery only of wilful idleness--has stamped on the
withering brow of destitution the brand of the drunkard. Therefore, clap
your hands to your pulpy sides, oh well-dressed, well-to-do London, and
disdaining the pettiness of a simper, laugh an ogre's laugh at the rags of
Manchester--grin like a tickled Polyphemus at the hunger of Bolton!
Our babbling, anile friend, in the very looseness of her prating has let
out the truth. Or rather--a common custom with her--she has talked in her
sleep. Her very weakness has, however, given a point to her revelation.
"Diamonds dart their brightest lustre,
_from a palsy-shaken head_!"
In the midst of her snores she has but revealed the plot entered into
between those most respectable conspirators, Broad Cloth and Beef, against
those old offenders, those incorrigible miscreants, Rags and Want! The
confederacy is, to be sure, older than the crucified thieves; but then it
has not been so undisguisedly avowed. Broad Cloth has, on the contrary,
affected a sympathy with tatters, though with a constancy of purpose has
refused an ell from its trailing superfluity to solace the wretchedness;
the tears of Beef dropt on the lank abdomen of Starvation, are ancient as
post diluvian crocodiles.--but it has spared no morsel to the object of
its hypocritic sorrow. Now, however, even the decency of deceit is to be
dropt, and Broad Cloth is to make sport with the nakedness of the land,
and merry Beef is to roar like the bulls of Bashan at the agonies of
famine!
As the winter approaches we are promised increasing sources of amusement
from the manufacturing districts. What sunny faces will break though the
fogs of November--what giggling will drown the cutting blasts of January!
Eschewing the wise relaxation of pantomimes, we shall be taught to consult
the commercial reports in the newspapers as the highest and fullest source
of salutary laughter. How we shall simper when mills are stopped--how crow
with laughter when whole factories are silent and deserted! How
reader--(for we acknowledge none who are not well-dressed and
well-to-do)--how you will scream with joy when banks break!--and how
consult the list of bankrupts as the very spirit and essence of the most
consummate fun. Insolvency shall henceforth be synonymous with
repartee--and compositions with creditors practical _bons mots_.
Oh! reader--(but mind, you _must_, we say, to be our reader, be
well-dressed and well-to-do; for though we owe the very paper beneath your
eye to rags, we trust we are sufficiently in the mode to laugh
contemptuously at such abominations)--oh! reader, quit your lighter
recreations; seek not for merriment in fictitious humour; it is a poor,
unsatisfactory diet, weak and watery; but find substantial drollery from
the fluttering of tatters--laugh, and with the crowing joy, grow sleek and
lusty at the writhings and the lamentations of want!
We have, however, a recent benevolent instance of the political and social
power of dress--an instance gathered from the Court of Spain. The organ
(or rather barrel-organ of Toryism, for it has only a set number of tunes)
which played our opening quotation, also grinds the following:--
"The Regent Espartero, and the tutor Arguelles, are doing all in their
power to keep the young Queen and the Infanta _in good humour_,
encouraging the Princesses in many little indulgences suitable to their
age and sex, _especially in the article of dress_, in which their royal
mother was more than inattentive. _This line of conduct_, coupled with the
expected arrival of the Infant, Don Francisco de Paula and his family, who
are to be received with every mark of respect, indicates that the present
rulers of Spain, aware of their critical situation, wish to strengthen
themselves by the support of the great majority of the royal family."
Thus, if the royal family of Spain have an excess of courtesy and
benevolence towards the people, such blessings will drop upon them from
the fringed petticoats of the little sovereign. Thus curiously considered,
may we not trace a bounteous political measure to the lace veil of a
Queen, and find a great national benefit in the toe of a slipper?
Happy Spaniards! Give fine clothes to _your_ rulers, and they yearn with
benevolence towards the donors. _They_ do not walk about the streets of
Madrid, smiling in the strength of their wardrobe at the nakedness of
those who have subscribed the bravery. Oh, ye "well-dressed gentlemen,"
and oh, ye "well-to-do artisans!"--be instructed by the new petticoats of
Queen Isabella, and smile no at rags and famine.
* * * * *
PUNCH'S PENCILLINGS.--No. XII.
[Illustration: THE TORY PEACOCKS AND THE FINSBURY DAW.]
* * * * *