Having recently had a slight corvine plucking with MR. COBDEN and MR.
BRIGHT, _Mr. Punch_ has the more pleasure in bearing testimony to their
noble conduct in reference to the strike disturbances at Wigan.
As soon as MR. COBDEN was informed of these painful outbreaks, he laid
aside a pamphlet which he is writing, to prove that Russia never went to
war with anybody, and he hurried off to MR. BRIGHT. He found the latter
busily arranging the library which has recently been presented to him
for his anti-Corn Law exertions; and that gentleman, hastily dashing
down a fine copy of "_Boxiana_," which he was reading with great zest,
got into his friend's carriage.
"I think," said MR. COBDEN, with one of his frank smiles, "that we, who
have shown that everything can be arranged by diplomacy, have assailed
everybody for not settling differences by arbitration, and have so often
vaunted the superiority of the cultivated town operative over the
agricultural dolt, would hardly like to be accused of allowing thousands
of our own disciples to rise in riot close to our own doors, without
interfering and arguing with them."
"By Jove!--I mean verily," said MR. BRIGHT, nearly smashing the carriage
window in his energy, "I should like any dastard to say that I sneaked
out of such an affray."
The missionaries of peace and political economy went pleasantly on,
reached Wigan, had the military sent away, and convoked the populace.
MR. COBDEN then explained to the rioters that a question of wages was
not to be settled by violence, and invited them to a peaceful
discussion; and MR. BRIGHT, in the kindest manner, offered to fight
anybody who was irrational. Their appeals were successful, and after
three hours of peaceful talk, MESSRS. C. & B. went off to the employers
with proposals, enforcing them by sound argument. They were accepted,
and the whole population have returned to work.
_Mr. Punch_ has not often the happiness of agreeing with the _Morning
Herald_, but is bound to express his gratitude to that journal for
having called his attention to the above noble and courageous conduct of
MESSERS. COBDEN and BRIGHT, who have now shown that they are not mere
empty theorists and platform spouters, but honest, consistent friends of
peace.
* * * * *
HANOVER IN BRONZE.
The House of Hanover does not shine very much in bronze. All our statues
of the departed greatness of that House are marvellously little. The
best point of GEORGE THE THIRD is his pigtail; whilst his son, GEORGE
THE FOURTH, looks and sits his steed in Trafalgar Square like an
over-fed ostler above his business. The DUKE OF YORK--a monument at
which every insolvent touches his hat in sympathetic reverence--is,
however, to come down. This we learn to be decided upon in the very
highest quarters--a truth whispered at the fireplaces of the Clubs.
PRINCE ALBERT is to have a statue in Hyde Park: and the men who propose
the monument (not that they can want bronze) are to have placed at their
disposal, as old metal, the whole of the York Pillar and Royal effigies.
Thus the DUKE OF YORK will duly go to the melting-pot, the only manner
in which there is any chance of his liquidating the debts he has left
behind him.
* * * * *
[Illustration: Presentation of a New Breast-Pin on the 5th of November.]
* * * * *
ABERDEEN _VERSUS_ PALMERSTON.
It is the fashion at all the Clubs to allude to Lord ABERDEEN always as
"the injudicious Bottle-holder of the Porte."
* * * * *
BITTER FOR BURTON.--For raising the price of Bitter Ale, the Brewers
thereof allege, as one reason, the dearness of _Hops_. What has _that_
to do with it?
* * * * *
[Illustration: MRS. BUNDLE GOES TO SEE THE GREAT AMERICAN ANT-EATER.
_Mrs. B. (loquitur)._ "WELL! IF I'D HA' KNOWN I SHOULD HA' GOT SCROOGED
INTO A SANDWICH IN THIS WAY, I'D HAVE SEEN THE HANT-HEATER AT 'ANOVER
FUST!"
[_And_ MRS. BUNDLE _can't get a sight of the novelty after all_.]
* * * * *
SPORTING AT WINDSOR.
"HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ALBERT, and the KING OF THE BELGIANS went
out shooting yesterday, attended [_at a respectful distance_] by
COLONEL FLINT."--_Court Circular._
_King._ To continue, _mon cher_, our talk of yesterday. Why not let
Russia have Moldavia and--
_Prince._ Mark! [_Fires, and pheasant falls._]
_King._ And Wallachia? You will perceive that Austria, who by the way,
has been shamefully libelled by your press; you will perceive, ALBERT,
that--
_Prince._ Mark again! [_Both fire, and both miss._]
_King._ Austria requires peace. In fact, the interests of humanity
demand peace. France wants peace, Belgium wants peace, Saxe-Coburg wants
peace; and Saxe-Gotha wants peace!
_Prince._ How wild the dogs are this morning! To be sure, Saxe-Gotha.
_King._ And England.--for I am more than half an Englishman, my dear
ALBERT--England wants peace. Think of your debt. Eight hundred millions!
A sum enough to strike the house of ROTHSCHILD flat into gold-leaf.
Eight hundred millions, _mon cher_, and Europe in a blaze. How do you
know your eight hundred wouldn't be doubled?
_Prince._ Twice eight's sixteen.
_King._ Exactly. I saw a passage in the papers about some wild Indians
who fire golden balls. Why, doesn't England always fire golden balls?
Load with lead and iron; and don't taxes turn 'em to gold?
_Prince._ ABERDEEN the respectable says the same.
_King._ ABERDEEN'S a great statesman. That is, he's great in his
respectability. And the English--I know the noble islanders--the English
are so devoted to a respectable Minister, that they'd rather be
half-ruined by respectability, than saved and served by anything that's
brilliant. They fear brilliancy, as it is said JAMES THE FIRST winced at
a drawn sword.
_Prince._ To be sure, PALMERSTON--
_King._ A firebrand, _mon cher_: but now excellently disposed of.
However, for the peace of Europe--
_Prince._ Mark! [_Fires; bird falls._]
_King (to dogs)._ Down charge! But for the peace of Europe PAM is
capitally placed. It is all right to have a firebrand in the Home
Office, so long as you keep a Wet Blanket in the first place of the
Treasury.
_Prince._ Peace is certainly to be desired. You have not seen my
picture--an allegory of Peace?
_King._ I have. ---- showed it me yesterday. My dear ALBERT, do let me
have a copy--nay two copies, by your own hand; one for Austria, one for
Russia; they will be delighted. Such "material guarantees" for the peace
of Europe; and peace at any price will be cheaper than ever.
_Prince._ ABERDEEN deplores war. He said at the Council on Tuesday, when
MOLESWORTH talked about national honour, and shedding blood, and all
that--he said: It is better to have your nose pulled, than your nose cut
off. Now England has certainly had its nose pulled--
_King._ But has not lost an inch of it. The nose is quite as good as
ever, and then--
_Prince._ Down, Pompey! How wild the dogs are!
_King._ And then, with war, what throne is safe?
Hungary--Italy--Rome--Naples--
_Prince._ The dogs are very wild!
_King._ And as I've said, _mon cher_, Saxe-Coburg and Saxe-Gotha.
Therefore, why not let Russia keep the Provinces, and--
_Prince._ Here come BRABANT and FLANDERS.
_King._ Mark! (_His Majesty fires; bird falls. The_ DUKE OF BRABANT
_and_ COUNT OF FLANDERS _join_).
* * * * *
The above is faithfully translated from the German, a language in which
the distinguished sportsmen always shoot. COLONEL FLINT does not know a
word of German.
* * * * *
IN EAST AND NORTH.
Two sisters stand by Stamboul's sunny waters,
Two sisters sit where Arctic ice-winds rave--
Hands clasped, the first watch a fleet's crew at quarters;
Hands clasped, the second weep beside a grave.
The same two sisters;--long upon each other,
Stern have they frowned across their Channel sea:
But now all rivalries and hates they smother,
And sit thus, hand in hand laid lovingly.
Why, sisters, rest ye thus at peace together,
Your ancient feuds and factions all laid by?--
Why smile you in that purple Asian weather?
Why weep you 'neath that leaden Polar sky?
"Two causes, stranger, hold us thus united--
Both fit to make true friends of noble foes:
In the bright East we stand to see wrong righted,
In the black North, a hero's eyes we close.
"Those battle flags that side by side are swelling
Speak of brute force defied, of law maintained,
Those funeral flags that side by side are trailing,
Speak both of loss endured and triumph gained.
"Yon banded fleet to all the nations teaches
He that doth wrong his wrong shall sore abye;
The icy monument of Bellot preaches
How nobly love can live, how grandly faith can die.
"Are not these lessons worthy of the giving?
To give them is't not well we use our might?
Then leave us to our gladness and our grieving,
Under the Eastern sun, beneath the Polar night."
* * * * *
CHINESE HUMANITY.
The Chinese Imperial general offered to his soldiers two dollars a
head--the head duly cut off--of the enemy. Well, the enemy not
forthcoming, the gallant soldiers took off the heads of their friends.
The heads becoming cumbrous from their number, the general declared that
he would be sufficiently satisfied with the instalment of ears.
Whereupon the gallant Chinese accosted the villagers, men and women, in
Shaksperian utterance--"Lend us your ears," and they granted the loan as
security for their head.
* * * * *
Epitaph on a Plucked Man.
His Pluckings sore long time he bore,
But PALEY was in vain;
At length, disgusted, he took and "cussed" it,
And didn't try again.
* * * * *
A CLOSE CONTRIVANCE AT WINCHESTER!
[Illustration: O]
Old Winchester--as most people know, and the rest may have heard--has a
noble Cathedral. But what is the noblest Cathedral in the possession of
an ignoble clergy? A temple inhabited by owls and bats--infested with
rats and mice; stupid, crawling, disagreeable and voracious creatures.
Winchester Cathedral, however, rejoices under the guardianship of a body
of divines of whom it may fearlessly be asserted that they neither hoot
nor squeak, nor fly on any wings but those of devotion, nor offend the
external senses, nor nibble to any extent that is uncapitular.
Some Chapters--the excellent DEAN OF WINCHESTER is stricken in years,
and for the present management of the affairs of the Cathedral, renown
and honour are probably due altogether to his subordinates--, some lazy
indifferent Chapters, content themselves with keeping the glorious
buildings bequeathed to them by the great churchmen of the Middle Ages
in simple repair. This may, indeed, include ornamental restorations. But
here they stop. Averse to progress, these prebendal sloths do nothing
whatever to improve their cathedrals, by alterations and embellishments
in accordance with the feelings and wants of the age.
Sluggish indifference like this is not to be cast, in the teeth of those
high-minded and liberal clergymen, the Chapter of Winchester. We are
informed that they have lately enriched the interior of that majestic
edifice with additional features, which, whilst subservient to utility,
have, at the same time, the high aesthetical merit of embodying, or
symbolising the canonical spirit of the nineteenth century.
Double rows of iron hurdles, surmounted by _chevaux-de-frise_, have been
placed by these magnanimous dignitaries across the aisles of the
Cathedral.
We are sorry to say that a correspondent, writing from Winchester, is so
disrespectful as to suggest a motive for the erection of these barriers
of a nature unclerical, if not unworthy. He supposes that the reverend
gentry of the Close have taken to sporting, and as neither custom, nor
the agriculturists to whom the meadows belong, would allow them to ride
steeple-chases in the valley of the Itchen, they have set up
"bullfinchers" within their own bounds, in order to prosecute the chase
of the steeple within the church.
* * * * *
_PUNCH_ THE ONLY RECOGNISED PROMOTER OF LITERATURE.
A wholesome caution has just been administered to self-styled Literary
Institutions, which claim exemption from Poor Rate by the assumption of
a title which they do not carry out. At the Bath Quarter Sessions a set
of persons calling themselves the Bath Literary and Scientific
Institution, had the effrontery to make a claim to freedom from
taxation; and on the question being put to one of the witnesses--"Is
_Punch_ taken in at the Institution?" the reply was in the negative.
This of course settled the point as to the Society being one for the
advancement of literature; and the Sessions instantly decided against
the claim.
We hope Literary Societies in general will take a note of this important
decision, which lays it down, on legal authority, that the taking in of
_Punch_ is satisfactory evidence of an intention to promote literature.
The Bath chaps who sought exemption on insufficient grounds, have
received a lesson which we trust will not be lost on those who fail to
"mind their _Punch_," and who fancy themselves promoters of literature
without qualifying themselves by that test which is now recognised by a
legal tribunal as decisive, and will, we hope, find its way into "the
Books" as soon as possible.
* * * * *
THE CITY COAXING THE CROWN.
Those renowned gourmands, the Corporation of the City of London, have
got up a new dish, in the hope that it may prove a "pretty dish to set
before the QUEEN;" adulation dished up as a sort of curry or attempt at
currying of favour with an illustrious Prince. By their proposal to
erect a statue to PRINCE ALBERT during his lifetime, they will not,
however, succeed in the scheme of cajoling the Crown to interfere
between their corruptions and reform; and the meal they propose for the
acceptance of His Royal Highness will prove a mess. They had better
relinquish their endeavours to add lustre to the reputation of the
Prince, and transfer their attention to his boots.
* * * * *
A LETTER AND AN ANSWER.
_The_ PRESBYTERS _to_ PALMERSTON.
The Plague has come among us,
Miserable sinners!
Fear and remorse have stung us,
Miserable sinners!
We ask the State to fix a day.
Whereon all men may fast and pray,
That Heaven will please to turn away
The Plague that works us sore dismay.
Miserable sinners!
PALMERSTON _to the_ PRESBYTERS.
The Plague that comes among you,
Miserable sinners!
To effort hath it strung you?
Miserable sinners!
You ask that all should fast and pray;
Better all wake and work, I say;
Sloth and supineness put away,
That so the Plague may cease to slay;
Miserable sinners!
For Plagues like other evils,
Miserable sinners!
Are GOD'S and not the Devil's,
Miserable sinners!
Scourges they are, but in a hand
Which love and pity do command;
And when the heaviest stripes do fall,
'Tis where they're wanted most of all,
Miserable sinners!
Look round about your city,
Miserable sinners!
Arouse to shame and pity.
Miserable sinners!
Pray: but use brush and limewash pail;
Fast: but feed those for want who fail;
Bow down, gude town, to ask for grace,
But bow with cleaner hands and face,
Miserable sinners!
All Time GOD'S Law hath spoken,
Miserable sinners!
That Law may not be broken,
Miserable sinners!
But he that breaks it, must endure
The penalty which works the cure.
To us, for GOD'S great laws transgressed,
Is doomsman Pestilence addressed,
Miserable sinners!
We cannot juggle Heaven,
Miserable sinners!
With one day out of seven,
Miserable sinners!
Shall any force of fasts atone
For years of duty left undone?
How expiate with prayer or psalm,
Deaf ear, blind eye, and folded palm?
Miserable sinners!
Let us be up and stirring,
Miserable sinners!
'Mongst ignorant and erring,
Miserable sinners!
Sloth and self-seeking from us cast,
Believing this the fittest fast,
For of all prayers prayed 'neath the sun
There is no prayer like work well done,
Miserable sinners!
* * * * *
GOLDEN BULLETS.
Last week news arrived from Santa Fe of a tribe of warlike Indians, who
use "Golden Bullets." Since then MR. WYLD--of the Great Globe--has been
daily beset by gentlemen from the Minories and Houndsditch, for maps of
the exact locality. COLONEL ISRAEL is at this moment raising a company
of the Jewish persuasion, to be called the Rag Fair Rangers.
* * * * *
[Illustration: INGENIOUS PROTECTION AGAINST MIDGES--A VALUABLE HINT TO
SKETCHERS FROM NATURE.]
* * * * *
A REGULAR NUISANCE.
MR. PUNCH has long ago been appointed, by and under his own act,
Inspector-General of Nuisances, and he may certainly take credit for the
removal of a great many nuisances long before the legislature gave its
attention to the subject.
_Mr. Punch_ has lately been engaged in the inspection of the great City
of London Corporation Nuisance, and refers to the annexed report for the
result of his observations:
REPORT.
My attention was first drawn to the Corporation Nuisance by the very bad
odour surrounding the locality, and by a very general rumour that an
offensive body, in a most alarming state of corruption, was lying within
the precincts of the City of London.
I accordingly proceeded to visit the spot, where a lamentable scene
presented itself. I found some four-and-twenty individuals huddled, or,
rather, closeted together, in one room, surrounded by a quantity of
refuse vegetable and animal matter (apparently composed of pine-apple
and venison), the effluvium from which was of the most deleterious
character. On examining further, I found a large quantity of thick
fluid, in the midst of which were several portions of a glutinous green
turtley material, and over the surface a sort of coating had formed,
which might almost be cut with a knife--so thick was the matter that had
settled on the top of the stagnant liquid. This deleterious wash had
been placed in vessels resembling soup-tureens, and was no doubt
intended for removal, a great deal of it having been already got rid of
by the persons assembled in the room, who appear, however, to have been
unable to proceed further with their disgusting operation. I found them
in a state of considerable exhaustion among the refuse stuff, and there
can be no doubt that the condition in which they are living is highly
injurious to the health--moral as well as physical--and likely to
exercise a most contaminating influence on the surrounding atmosphere.
In pursuance of this report _Mr. Punch_ feels it his duty to order the
removal of the nuisance within a reasonable time, for the parties have
been so frequently warned that there is little hope they will of
themselves proceed to abate the evils that have so long been matter of
public notoriety. _Mr. Punch_ intends proceeding to inspect other
departments of the great City of London Corporation Nuisance, and to
persevere until a clean bill of health can be presented.
* * * * *
ARISTOCRACY AND ITS ANTIPODES.
If the Legislative Council of New South Wales are enabled to effect
their proposal for the creation of an hereditary Peerage in that colony,
it will be necessary to assign armorial bearings to the new noblemen.
This will be no very difficult matter; respect being had to the origin
of the chief families that will be comprised in that aristocracy. For
example, here is the blazon of a coat that might be borne by the name of
SIKES, elevated to the Dukedom of Norfolk Island.
_Gules_, on a cross _ermine_, between four hand-cuffs, _or_, a jemmy of
the field. Crest, out of a window shutter _vert_ a hand, _sable_,
grasping a centre-bit _proper_.
The above coat will readily be seen to indicate that the founder of the
bearer's family had been transported for burglary accompanied by
violence. The latter feature of his achievements is denoted by the
sanguinary colour of the field, and of the implement depicted on the
centre of the scutcheon. By the number of the handcuffs are signified
two convictions. The cross alludes to crossing the herring-pond, and the
ermine indicates the judicial sentence by which the voyage was
prescribed. The crest speaks for itself; the use of the term sable is an
allowable liberty, as being necessary to represent the probable state of
the member to which it is applied, considered in relation to soap and
water. The family motto might be, _Mortuus vivo_, which would be a neat
paraphrase of "Death Recorded."
The horse, the sheep, the pig, and other cattle--for stealing which the
forefathers of the ennobled parties were relegated--would furnish
abundance of animal forms for the purposes of heraldic symbolism. To
these might be added the magpie, the stoat, the weasel, and other
creatures that are the emblems of theft and larceny. Though, for the
matter of that, the more ancient devices of eagles, dragons, griffins,
lions, and the like beasts and birds of prey, would do quite
sufficiently well to glorify exploits of plunder and rapine; nor could
any motto for the member of a Botany Bay nobility be more suitable than
some of those very professions of ancestral principle, which are the
glory of certain high pedigrees among ourselves. "Thou shall want ere I
want," for instance, would precisely suit the descendant of a footpad. A
convict who had become a prosperous gentleman, after having completed
his sentence of transportation for seven years, could not have left a
happier legend to his posterity, than "I bide my time." Moreover, when
it is considered that the foundation of not a few among our own great
houses was either fraud or force, it cannot be asserted that a Peerage
of New South Wales would not rest to a considerable extent on a like
basis with the British nobility. So that, when you come to think it,
there may not be so very much difference, after all, between those who
came in with the Conqueror, and those who went out in the convict ship.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A NUISANCE IN THE CITY THAT MUST BE GOT RID OF.
_The Inspector of Nuisances._ "HALLO! HERE'S A VERY BAD CASE--A ROOM
FULL OF PIGS I DECLARE, AND AN IMMENSE QUANTITY OF ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE
MATTER!"]
* * * * *
THE SHERIFFS' DINNERS AT NEWGATE.
[Illustration: T]
The Sessions of the Central Criminal Court have lost much of their
attraction--especially to a hungry Old Bailey Bar, some of whom are
dreadfully open-mouthed--by the cutting down of the dinners usually
given by the Sheriffs. It seems that the learned Judges have not as yet
had any dinner at all in the City, but have been obliged to be satisfied
with a rather substantial "lunch," by way of substitute. The two
Sheriffs have been at loggerheads, and one of them--MR. WALLIS--has
provided a meal to which he has invited only the Aldermen on the rota
instead of the whole body; upon which SHERIFF WIRE fearing lest his
brother Aldermen should starve, has started an opposition table. In the
mean time the Judges have been making a meagre lunch with one Sheriff
and dining with neither. There being, however, two lunches a day, and
two opposition dinners, we should be glad to know how the worthy
Chaplain of Newgate performs his elaborate duty of partaking of every
meal, which he must necessarily do, in order to avoid giving offence to
either of the opposition Sheriffs. The reverend ordinary will have the
extraordinary task of disposing of two lunches and two dinners in
four-and-twenty hours--an accomplishment that calls to mind the old
familiar feat of the leg of mutton and trimmings.
The name of "ordinary" is most appropriately given to the worthy
Chaplain, who by virtue of his office is present at the ordinary at one,
the other ordinary at five, and again at the two extra-ordinaries
occasioned by the division between the two Sheriffs. It appears that in
the midst of all this superabundance the learned Judges, "huffed" at
having received their invitations from one Sheriff instead of two, have
preferred going dinnerless; wisely, however, hesitating to abandon
themselves to hopeless hunger, they have to compromise with their
dignity by condescending to "lunch" at the table of SHERIFF WALLIS.
We confess we should be glad to see the practice of Old Bailey dinners
getting abandoned altogether, so that the old sarcasm as to "wretches
hanging that Judges may dine," may for ever lose its traditional point,
as it has long ago lost its practical application. There is something
unpleasantly anomalous in the substitution of the table-napkin for the
ermine before quitting the Court, and it is not a pleasant reflection,
that the prisoners having been awarded their deserts, the Judges will,
under the same roof, proceed to take their dinners.
* * * * *
THE JUDGES' CHAMBERS.
Oh such a row, such a rumpus and a bobbery,
Everything and every one quite in the dark;
No one knows the order of the Summonses,
Fixed to be heard by MR. BARON PARKE:
Tearing, swearing,
For dignity not caring,
Common lawyers, clerks of all sorts, down to office drudge.
Never was a rougher set of noisy individuals,
Hanging round the chamber doors to go before the Judge.
* * * * *
A FRENCH FEAST OF THE POETS.
BERANGER the poet is, we are told by the paragraph-mongers, continually
receiving presents of jam from his enthusiastic countrymen. We regret to
say that our own poets meet with no such sweets, and frequently pass a
life of unmitigated bitters. Instead of presents of jam (now let the
reader prepare to be knocked down by a fearful blow to his common
sense)--we repeat--instead of presents of jam our poets too often meet
with a gelid indifference--_jam_ and _gelid_; does the reader see what
we are aiming at?
* * * * *
A FAIRY WISH.
Oh, that the million million million billions of seeds of corn rotting
on the Danube were "corned" into gunpowder, and swallowed by NICHOLAS.
Having no bowels, how could it hurt him?
* * * * *
PLATO'S REPUBLIC PERFECT.
The City's the Model Republic of PLATO,
As like as potato can be to potato,
Save in one point alone; and it would be a pity
If that difference did not distinguish the City.
In PLATO'S Republic, all good things combining,
That serve to the great ends of drinking and dining,
No Poet was suffered his metres to mingle
With the clatter of plates, and the wine glasses' jingle.
But London's good City a poet possesses
Who sings its high deeds and its glory expresses,
And graces its banquets, his brows bound with myrtle,
Sucking up inspiration together with turtle.
That Poet--whose aim is existence to sweeten--
Next day sings the praises of what he has eaten,
Which by wholesale are bought by the rich Corporation
As the fairest account of the jollification.
At eighty-five, Fleet Street, this son of APOLLO
Indites, each November, the Song of the Swallow;
His muse every bookseller's counter encumbers,
But his friends in the City buy up all his numbers.
* * * * *
HOW EUROPE MAY BE SAVED!
A recipe, from a Neapolitan pen, authorized by KING BOMBA, of Naples!
"Take the English people, strip 'em, rob 'em, kick 'em out of England,
making of 'em--even as the Hebrews--dealers in hare-skins and old
clothes! When this is done, take London, and turn it topsy-turvy,
ruinous like Jerusalem! Let the English House of Commons sit by the
waters of the Danube and weep; and let English Bishops sell maccaroni,
and English merchants vend water-melons to the _Lazzaroni_ of Naples!
Then Europe will be safe. When the House of Hanover is placed upon a
cinder-heap of Mount Vesuvius, then may Europe, in the depths of her
tranquillity, sweetly rejoice!"
And the KING OF NAPLES read the foregoing, and said "Let it be forthwith
printed, and let BRITANNIA forthwith prepare herself to become a
Jewess." Only to think--the British Lion a Lion of Judah! The White
Horse of Hanover, a Jerusalem Pony!
* * * * *
NEW COMIC SONG TO BE SUNG AT THE CAVE OF HARMONY.
(_Respectfully dedicated to the author of "The Newcomes"._)
MR. PUNCH _sings_.
Our future Premier, laughing free, I've got my eye upon,
I think you'll all agree with me--his name is P-LM-RSTON.
And by his side sits sleepily a lord in Scotland bred;
I think you'll all agree with me--that he were best in bed.
_Chorus by the Nation._
O yes, we all agree with you that he were best in bed.
* * * * *
SOME LIGHTS THAT WANT SNUFFING OUT.
A new religious book is now being advertised under the illuminating
title of "The Lamp and the Lantern, a Light for the Tent and the
Traveller." If our Exeter Hall friends are in want of quaint titles, we
beg leave to suggest "The Bull's Eye and the Dip," or "The PRICE and the
PALMER," or "The Long Four and the Short Six," or "The Kitchen and the
Composite."
* * * * *
WHAT IS MAN?
The _Quarterly_ makes answer,
"Chemically speaking, a man is 45 lbs. of carbon and nitrogen
diffused through 51/2 pailfuls of water."
This must be wrong. If no hemp, how do you get your Russian? If no wood,
how do you get your Austrian? If no red-tape, how does Downing Street
get her Englishmen?
* * * * *
A CON FROM THE SHAKSPEARIAN CLOWN.
_Q._ When _Othello_ killed _Desdemona_, was he thinking of his Wife?
_A._ No--his (s)Mother.
* * * * *
THE GREAT EASTERN QUESTION (_at all political dinners_). "Is there any
Turkey left?"
* * * * *
[Illustration: CRUEL KING COAL.]
CRUEL KING COAL over London town
Evermore year by year doth reign;
He is dight in a rich and goodly gown,
And he sporteth a monstrous golden chain.
CRUEL KING COAL doth his greatness air
In a flaming coach of state reclined;
And before him the Mace and Sword they bear,
And the little boys run and shout behind.
How did it happen to this KING COAL
That he came to be called by the name of Cruel?
'Twas because the old tyrant cribbed and stole,
By his cunning contrivance, poor men's fuel.
CRUEL KING COAL and his merry men,
Twenty and five fat rogues were they,
Cabbaged fourpence a chaldron first, then ten,
And a penny to boot made poor folks pay.
Measuring that which they never mete.
Making good losses themselves should stand,
And rebuilding here and there a street,
Were the pretexts alleged by the worthy band.
Even the load that a donkey draws,
These fellows do tax, and tithe, and toll,
Twenty miles around London Town; by laws
Through Parliament slipped by sly KING COAL.
Picking and filching, this cruel King
First on all coals that were sea-borne preyed;
Next upon such as canal did bring,
Then on those by QUEEN'S highway and rail conveyed.
Twenty fair miles as the road did wind,
He levied the tax in time gone by;
But the Commons his art contrived to blind,
And the distance is now as crow doth fly.
Drawback His Majesty granteth not
Twenty good tons on a weight below;
And the boiling of every humble pot
The old fellow doth render the dearer so.
CRUEL KING COAL doth feed and stuff,
Revel and riot in each man's scuttle;
Eat and drink when he's more than full enough,
Cram, guzzle, and gorge, and swill, and guttle.
CRUEL KING COAL shall we suffer more
To blow himself out by extortion dire?
Shall we let him continue to starve the poor
By the tax that he takes from their bit of fire?
* * * * *
MRS. JANE GIMLET TO MRS. JUDITH PUNCH.
"_Yeast Lain, Grinnidge, seckund November, hatingfiftethre._
"MEDDAM,
"Haskin parding for the libbaty hime takin, I opes u will use yer
influenzer with yer husband, wich its wot hevery lorful marred oman ort
to ave tho they do say he use u shameful in publick, but ave no dout he
gets his clippins at ome, and get him to print my letter wich I here
some vartuous pussons wants us to ave a day of fastin an hewmilliashun,
as a purwentive to the collerher, tho my husban hoo is a plane man, in
respek of bein a carpingter by trade, but can rede an rite, did see in
the papers that the workin classes ort to ave a plane and modderit dyeit
in these times. Now Meddam I ham a pore oman, with siks children an a
husban not over strong on account of workin twelve hours a day on wun
mele, an hime sure hever sins I leff REVEREND SLOCUM SMITH'S were I
lived coke at fiften pund a yere, tee and shewgar fund an all
parkisites, ceptin follerhers alloud, I ave never none wot it is to be
without a happetite, wich if hany one thinks it a blessin, Ide giv em
mine hany day and thankful too, for a lofe of bred. Likeaways would JON.
Likeaways would our siks children, wich I ave ad twelve, but siks on em
dide, as the doctor sed of my asthma, tho I carnt see ow that cood a
been, as I never wos asmatic, but think their deths was caused by the
bad hare in our place, and the smells, an bein nussed so low, an put to
slepe on Daffy for twelve hours wen I wos out a charin at hateen pence a
day an my kepe wich if u ever wants any charin done, I can ave the best
of karacters. An its hall werry well for them as as their cup of tee an
their butturd tostes bifor their hup in the mornin, an their cold shiken
an briled bones at breakfast, and a bit o cake an a glass o jellee
atween breakfast an lunch, an a lunch of ot mete and pertaties, wich it
is called the children's dinner, but the parents jines in it, an a snack
o suffin between lunch an dinner, just to kepe hoff the sinkin from
their pore weke stommicks, an a dinner of thre coarses an a dissurt, an
toste an muffins at tee, an maybe a little kneegus or sperrits at bed
time to kepe it hall down, and then a crust o bred in their bed rooms
lest they shood feel faint in the nite--hits werry well for them to
fast, if they likes it, for they've plenty of food to fall bak on, and
wood honely go to their wittles fresher nex day, like sum I wuns lived
with but wonte name, as made hup in Heester for wot they didnt hete in
Lent. But if we wos to fast, hose lives is little better than a
perpetiwal fast, I donte think the hempty stummicks of our pore littel
babes would ever cum to again. An has for hewmilliashun, if MISSUS
REVEREND SLOCUM SMITH'S coold honely go hout a charin for a month, and
be put upon by servants, (as I wos wuns the hequal hof,) an be snubbed
by Missusses, an sumtimes ave her litel earnins stood hover from
Saturday nite till Monday mornin, or longer wich it haint oncommon, an
not a bit of bred in the house, nor nothin to spout, she wooldunt want
no more humilliashun. An has for fastin bein a Christian hact, I no as
JON an me an our siks children, have been a fastin hever so long an
donte feel no better Christens for that, but quite the contrairy wich
hany one as will try it long will find the same. So I do ope Meddam,
that ure husban will tell them as wants to fast an thinks they'll be the
better for it to give their soup or fluities (wotever they be) to hus as
donte want to fast no more, and would be more in charity with hour
speshus, if we wosn't halways so huncommon hungry. I ham with 'umbel
dooty to ure husband, wich he looked as brisk as hever wen I see im
last,
"Your hobedt. chare'oman,
"JANE GIMLET."
* * * * *
THE BOTTLE.
"I can assure you," says A. softly and persuasively, "there is not an
entire headache in the whole bottle." "Not an entire headache perhaps,"
answers B., knowingly, "for all the headaches in it may be splitting
ones."
* * * * *
A MORAL PHENOMENON.--A Barrister returning his Fee.
* * * * *
[Illustration: TOO FASTIDIOUS.
SCENE.--_A Tavern._
_Waiter._ "'AM, SIR? YESSIR? DON'T TAKE ANYTHING WITH YOUR 'AM, DO YOU,
SIR?"
_Gentleman._ "YES, I DO; I TAKE THE LETTER H!" [_Waiter faints._]
* * * * *
PALMERSTON'S NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS.
Since LORD PALMERSTON said, in his speech at Perth, that he was always
happy to receive suggestions, and to read the correspondence that
individuals might favour him with, he has been overwhelmed with letters
upon all imaginable and unimaginable subjects. The consequence is he has
been obliged to employ three additional secretaries, who are engaged
night and day answering the stupid questions that are put to him. The
following may be relied upon as a fair sample of the nonsensical
inquiries he is favoured with:--
LATAKIA.--You are right. There is no doubt that there is a little
settlement to be found in all Ports--but this does not apply to the
Sublime Porte; for in spite of all the shaking and stirring it has
lately received, I cannot see the smallest hope of a settlement.
ROSA MATILDA.--You ask me, my young lady, what is the best ink for
writing love-letters with? I am sorry I cannot inform you, as it is
now many years ago, in consequence of the graver cares of office,
since I have abandoned the foolish practice.
THESPIS.--It is more than I can tell you what kind of BROOKE has
caused Drury Lane to overflow every night. I have not been to the
theatre this season, and so I cannot inform you whether the BROOKE
in question was deep, or merely a shallow BROOKE, or a roaring
BROOKE, or in fact what particular kind of BROOKE it was; but from
all the reports I have heard, some of which have been very loud, I
should hardly say it was "the murmuring BROOKE."
DEBRETT.--I cannot tell you LORD BROUGHAM'S habitual residence; but,
looking at his trousers, I should say it was generally on the other
side of the Tweed.
ONE WHO IS FOND OF DIGGING FOR ROOTS.--I should say, from your
foolish question, that the place where you dig most must be a garden
full of simples. How can I say whether "toggery" is derived from the
Latin word _toga_? Or whether CLYTEMNESTRA, when she was on the
point of stabbing her son, exclaimed "_Au Reste_?" Or whether a
cross-examination is so called, because it generally has the effect
of making a person "cross?" I wonder you are not ashamed of yourself
putting such insipid questions to one of HER MAJESTY'S Ministers.
A PUBLIC JOURNALIST.--LORD PALMERSTON is extremely sorry he cannot
give the name of the "Old Woman who lived in a shoe," and he doubts
very strongly in his own mind if any old woman ever chose such a
curious locality for a habitation. Perhaps--and this is merely
thrown out as a conjecture--it may refer to MRS. GAMP, of the
_Morning Herald_, and who lives in Shoe Lane; but then the song
should run, "There was an old woman, who lived in Shoe Lane," and
unfortunately it doesn't.
HORTICULTURALIST.--The apple of discord was doubtlessly, my dear, a
crab-apple; but it is beyond me to say whether VENUS, in accepting
it, was a naughty-culturist; but I can only say, from my own
experience, that it is not the first time by many that Paris has
been the cause of throwing the apple of discord--witness the Spanish
Marriage.
"ET TU QUOQUE."--It would ill become me, in my position, to offer
any opinion upon the conduct of a fellow-colleague, so you must
excuse me if I decline answering your inquiry whether LORD ABERDEEN
is not "the injudicious bottle-holder of the Porte." I should be
sorry to accept a compliment at the expense of a man whom I so
highly--but never mind the rest.
FIDDLE-DE-DEE.--I will write to LORD WESTMORELAND at the earliest
opportunity to inquire whether he is composing variations on the
tune of "_Pop Goes the Weasel_," but I doubt it extremely. Your
other question of whether a man who gives his mind to a violin can
be a clever ambassador, I decline answering.
"THAT'S THE WAY THE MONEY GOES."--You ask me--why I don't know--the
reason why "tin" should be the vulgar synonym for money. It defies
my powers of divination to tell you, unless it originated from the
fact of the purses which are thrown away upon the stage, and which
generally contain from ten thousand ducats to a hundred thousand
pounds, being always filled with pieces of _tin_. Hence probably the
synonym.
ONE WHO DABBLES IN INK.--I do not mind telling you in confidence
that LORD BROUGHAM is _not_ the Editor of the _Family Herald_.
A VICTIM TO THE EAST WIND.--The best plan, my dear young lady, for
keeping the chaps off your lips is to wear a respirator.
* * * * *
THE HIGH-METTLED RAZOR.
AIR--"_See the course throng'd with gazers, the sports are begun._"--C.
DIBDIN.
Since of course we want razors when manhood's begun,
Lest profusion of beard should our faces o'errun,
A thousand strange methods are found every year,
And MECHI and RODGERS assail our young ear.
When we next, like a vain beau, direct that our crest,
Silver-mounted, should be on the handle impressed,
Scarcely scraping a hair in our downy estate,
The High-Mettled Razor first ranks among plate.
The next ten years turn out, and we need not now blush,
To be caught when we're soaping our beard with a brush;
For we _have_ one at length, and we need not say nay,
Should any one ask if we shave every day.
While alike born for scrapes in our life's daily course,
Always sure to come through with a cut, if not worse;
When we're barely shaved down just to what Fashion saith,
The High-Mettled Razor now bores us to death.
Grown rusty, used up, and turned dull as a spud,
Notched, blunted, and, always when used, drawing blood;
While, knowing his past deeds, his misdeeds we trace,
Tell, "this notch cut my finger, and this cut my face;"
And what dangers we've run, we could quickly count o'er,
As we wasted our time, and our temper, and gore;
When the shaving doth gall, and the steel our chins goad,
The High-Mettled Razor's put out of the road.
At length they've improved it, before 'tis top late,
And MECHI and RODGERS must bend to their fate,
And barbers will soon have to work the treadmill,
If their razors are brought to a daily stand still.
For now, with its works nearly hid from our view,
In the very same chair in which we must sit too,
While a music-box plays like a musical elf,
The High-Mettled Razor doth _shave us itself_!
* * * * *
WHYS FOR THE WISE.
Why cannot a "Constant Reader" write a letter to a newspaper without an
allusion to its "widely circulated columns?"
Why can a young gentleman never take to yachting without strengthening
his language with "fo'ksle" expletives?
Why at a dinner party is it never thought permissible to call for
cabbage except by its genteel synonym of "greens?"
Why does a cabman consider he degrades himself by acting civilly?
Why in a lodging-house can you never get your shaving-water without
ringing twice for it?
Why do people with the smallest rooms invariably give the largest
parties?
Why cannot musical critics speak of a voice without puzzling everybody
by calling it an "organ?"
Why do fashionable people consider they lose _caste_ by writing legibly?
Why cannot a husband get home late from a dinner-party without assuring
his wife he was "the first to leave?"
And why cannot a wife inflict a "charring-day" upon her husband without
the additional torture of a cold leg of mutton?
* * * * *
GREAT THEATRICAL STRIKE.--A Combat of Six at the Victoria.
* * * * *
[Illustration: LORD SID-NEE'S SHOW.
_The Ardent Lover_, CHING-BANG-BUNG, _at present residing among the
island Barbarians, writes to the Star of his Brain_, LOLLUM SQUINNYI,
_daughter of_ HANGO JOWDOB, _wealthy merchant of Tseen-ki, with a wart
on his nose_.]
* * * * *
"MOONLIGHT ON THE WATERS OF MY SOUL,
"Adoring your silver slipper with its buckle of emeralds, profoundly
respecting the gilded toad which lies before your cerulean door in the
light of a scraper, nay, venerating the marble slab that forms the
threshold of the house where lives the angelic daughter of HANGO JOWDOB
with the wart on his nose, I send you this illuminated rescript. Honour
it.
"Yesterday, O LOLLUM, was a festival among these barbarians, and the
Chief Magistrate of their chief city went in procession to swear oaths,
and to bid other judges to devour sea-tortoises with him. A scribe named
_Punch_, and altogether the wisest and comeliest man I have ever seen
(excepting HANGO JOWDOB, with the wart on his nose, who will probably
read this) gave me a seat in his mansion, which overlooketh the highway.
By CON-FU-ZEE, O LOLLUM, but these barbarians have something in them,
after all. Their Chief Magistrate is a vendor of teas, and the array was
got up to remind the spectators of the Flowery Land whence cometh the
fragrant leaf; in short, it was a gorgeous advertisement of his
profession.
"Wisely taking example from the wisest nation of earth, they have sought
to liken their procession unto what they deem to be Chinese. Poor
savages, they make sad blunders; but our religion teaches us to be
charitable, and to pity rather than ridicule the benighted heathens, who
have not a pagoda in their land, save a miserable one in some gardens
they call Q. Yesterday they exhibited strange mockeries of our Chinese
forms; but still the good will was there, and we will not mock them in
return, but try to teach them better.
"There were shields with faces, as of moons and devils, and
dragon-banners, with bells, and other imitations of us; but the artistic
design and the classical execution were wanting, my LOLLUM. The Chief
Magistrate himself rode in a carriage formed like a gigantic tea-pot;
and before and behind him came standards, on which were emblazoned the
prices of his goods. Two huge idols, worshipped by the Fathers of the
City, with costly orgies, were borne along, with Chinese adornments; and
numerous other devices reminded me of the land where dwelleth the lovely
daughter of HANGO JOWDOB with the wart on his nose.
"They are all traders, these barbarians, and one of the ancestors of
this Magistrate, whose name is SID-NEE, was a great layer of bricks, as
I gather, for he is often spoken of, by public-house orators, as
'SID-NEE on the Scaffold.'
"LOLLUM of my Soul! Light breaking in at the Chink of my Heart! Violet
of my Nostrils! Pickled Duck of my Affections! Water-lily floating on
the waves of my Life! Whitest Egg in the Nest of my Brain! I worship
your image, and I kiss the rice-paper which enfolds the eyelash you gave
me at parting. When shall your eyes sparkle into mine, and set all the
fireworks of my soul fizzing, and banging, and sparkling? Eleven
millions of highly polished compliments to the respectable HANGO JOWDOB
with the wart on his nose.
"Signed in England, the day after the Feast of the LORD SID-NEE, Mare of
London.
"CHING-BANG-BUNG."
* * * * *
DIRECTIONS FOR SHAVING THE LADIES.--Use plenty of soft soap--use it
unsparingly to their faces--and it's wonderful how clean you'll shave
them.--_A Linendraper's Assistant from Howellanjames._
* * * * *
MISTAKEN BENEVOLENCE.--Throwing Early Purl to Swine.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Policeman._ "NOW, MUM! WHAT'S THE MATTER?"
_Injured Female._ "IF YOU PLEASE, MISTER--I WANT TO GIVE MY WRETCH OF A
'USBAND IN CHARGE. HE'S ALWAYS A KNOCKING OF ME DOWN AND A STAMPIN' ON
ME!"]
* * * * *
JUSTICE TO SCOTLAND.
AN UNPUBLISHED POEM BY BURNS.
(_Communicated by the Edinburgh Society for Promoting Civilization in
England_)
O mickle yeuks the keckle doup,
An' a' unsicker girns the graith,
For wae and wae! the crowdies loup
O'er jouk an' hallan, braw an' baith.
Where ance the coggie hirpled fair,
And blithesome poortith toomed the loof,
There's nae a burnie giglet rare
But blaws in ilka jinking coof.
The routhie bield that gars the gear
Is gane where glint the pawky een,
And aye the stound is birkin lear
Where sconnered yowies wheeped yestreen.
The creeshie rax wi' skelpin' kaes
Nae mair the howdie bicker whangs,
Nor weanies in their wee bit claes
Glour light as lammies wi' their sangs.
Yet leeze me on my bonnie byke!
My drappie aiblins blinks the noo,
An' leesome luve has lapt the dyke
Forgatherin' just a wee bit fou.
And SCOTIA! while thy rantin' lunt
Is mirk and moop with gowans fine,
I'll stowlins pit my unco brunt,
An' cleek my duds for auld lang syne.
* * * * *
PAYING SHOT BEFORE BATTLE.
The _New Prussian Gazette_ of Berlin says:--
"Several Turkish and Wallachian merchants have arrived here to pay
their debts. This case several times occurred during the wars of
Turkey with a European power. Turks have come and paid their debts
at the risk of their lives in crossing through the enemy's camp."
When this paragraph was read upon 'Change, a melancholy, wan-looking man
said with a sigh, "I don't wish any harm to Her Catholic Majesty's
Ministers; but I do wish that, if only to relieve us of our bonds,
certain Spaniards would, just for the occasion, become Mahometans."
Certainly NARVAEZ in a fez would create a sensation in the City.
* * * * *
THE KING OF THE CITY.
Some new lights have been thrown on the position of the LORD MAYOR by
the evidence given before the Corporation Commission which is now
sitting. The LORD MAYOR seems to be a mixture of degradation and
dignity--a species of civic Centaur--a kind of neither one thing nor the
other, or rather a sort of both--a combination of the flunkey and the
potentate, which it would be difficult to analyse. At the Mansion House
dinner he is a Monarch, but at the Coronation banquet he is a Butler, in
virtue of which menial occupation he takes a golden tankard home to
clean, and then claiming it as a perquisite, he never brings it back
again. Why the LORD MAYOR should appropriate a bit of the plate because
he is acting as Butler, is as much a mystery to us, as it would be if
the man we paid to wait when we give a dinner-party were to walk off
with our best piece of plate--our sugar-tongs, which are real, all the
rest being electro--under the paltry subterfuge of its being a
"perquisite." We can only say that if the LORD MAYOR were to be stopped
on his way from the Coronation banquet with the golden tankard in his
pocket or under his arm, it would require nothing short of the
production of the original charter, to satisfy the police that he had
lawful possession of the property.
It appears also that the LORD MAYOR is a Privy Councillor, but is so
completely cut in that capacity that he is never summoned to attend, and
the probability is, that if his Lordship were to present himself for
admission he would have the door shut in his face by the "proper
officers." It is, however, inconvenient that those dignities should
nominally attach to an individual who is not permitted to use them, and
we can only compliment those who have held the office of LORD MAYOR, on
their good sense in not bringing on an unseemly altercation with the
royal porters and door-keepers, by attempting to "get in" when a Privy
Council is sitting. There is no doubt that if "his Lordship" were to
force a passage up into the Council Chamber, and attempt to take his
seat at the Board, there would be a general cry of "turn him out" from
the Cabinet Members. The absurdity of the situation is so apparent, and
the incongruity of the LORD MAYOR at the Privy Council is so striking,
that nobody can doubt the propriety of abolishing a nominal position,
which only subjects its holder to ridicule.
The only real power that is still exercised by the LORD MAYOR is the
right of shutting up Temple Bar when the Sovereign is expected; but
since the side bar has been rented by a loyal hair-dresser, who would
assuredly let the monarch through his shop--if any serious obstacle were
to be offered by the civic authorities--it is high time that even this
dim branch of the civic prerogative were lopped off by the axe of
Improvement, that judicious woodsman, who spares nothing superfluous.
* * * * *
"REVENONS A NOS MOUTONS."
The French, in a great victory over the Arabs, "have captured 4,000
sheep." What will they do with these 4,000 prisoners of war? Will they
drive them to market, and sell them for what they will fetch, or will
they turn them into _gigots_ and _cotelettes?_ Will they preserve their
fleeces as trophies, and hang them up in the Invalides? What will they
do with the tallow? Will they melt it into candles, and send them as
altar-offerings to the POPE to solicit his blessing on their Algerian
campaigns? These questions are difficult to answer, and in the meantime
the poor sheep, recollecting the deeds of BUGEAUD and PELISSIER, must
tremble in their skins every time they see the steel of the Frenchmen.
For ourselves, we believe the lives of the 4,000 sheep will be spared by
the French, out of their noble anxiety to prove to Europe that warfare
can be carried on in Algeria without butchery.
* * * * *
MUTE ELOQUENCE.
Somebody has brought out a collection of the "_Songs of Scotland without
Words_." In order to render the thing completely agreeable, we would
propose that the songs without words should be set to bagpipes without
sound, and sung by performers without voices.
* * * * *
THE DEMON OF THE CUPBOARD.
[Illustration]
Within the last few months mysterious noises have been repeatedly heard
in the cupboards of HER MAJESTY'S subjects throughout the kingdom. These
have been, in most instances, at first supposed to be occasioned by mice
and rats, as they consisted in scrapings, scratchings, and knockings,
such as are made by those animals. But in many cases wherein the noises
were the most violent, cheese contained in the cupboard was found
untouched; so that it was necessary to seek some other explanations of
the acoustic phenomena.
The circumstances of table rapping obviously suggested that the sounds
were caused by spirits; and several powerful mediums were consulted,
independently, with respect to this point. The answers to all inquiries
obtained through these channels agreed in the fact that the cupboards
were haunted; and also coincided in the further information that the
name of their obstreperous inhabitant was NICHOLAS.
This startling declaration apparently rendered the character of the
author of the disturbances no longer doubtful, and was considered by
serious clergymen a conclusive proof that they resulted from "Satanic
Agency."
However, to subsequent interrogatories, as to whether the "NICHOLAS" who
scratched in the cupboards was the same as that personage generally
known as "Old Scratch," the reply was uniformly in the negative; and the
cupboard-haunting NICHOLAS was described as not that old one but "the
other."
Several defunct NICHOLASES were then named, and the question was put
with regard to each in succession, whether he was the one alluded to;
but in every case it was declared that the individual mentioned was not
the scratching NICHOLAS.
At last--in a kind of jocose despair--was put the inquiry, whether the
NICHOLAS was the EMPEROR OF RUSSIA. When, to the amazement of all the
hearers, the response distinctly rapped out was "Yes!"
A clue was thus obtained for ulterior investigation, by which it was
elicited that the CZAR NICHOLAS was in the cupboards by force of his
operation on the loaf, of which, by his nefarious proceedings, prompted
by ambition, pride, and rapacity, he had raised the price to everybody
in the nation. The knocking and scratching indicated rage and fury,
combined with irritation and vexation on account of having got into a
scrape.
The sort of ubiquity which seems involved in one individual vermin
infesting so many cupboards at the same time, is declared to be a
mystery, the solution of which is referred to the abstruser laws of
mesmerism. By the assistance of the mediums we learn that NICHOLAS has
remarkable faculties of a spiritual kind, which he partakes of as the
limb participates in the nature of the parent body. Hence, indeed, he is
adored as the deity of the Russians; just as his ancient namesake is
"honoured for his burning throne."
Since the above particulars were communicated, it has been positively
averred, by ladies venerable for their years and other persons of the
soundest judgment as well as the highest respectability, that, on going
to their cupboards late at night to cut a slice of bread and butter,
they have been terrified by the miniature apparition of a gigantic
figure with an inflated aspect, bestriding the loaf in a military
uniform and a pair of jack-boots. So that now, in almost all families,
when any strange noise is heard about the house, it is customary to
refer the disturbance to the CZAR in the cupboard.
* * * * *
A BISHOP ON "THINGS SOLID."
THE BISHOP OF OXFORD AND OIL-CUM-HONEY made a beautiful speech at the
Mansion House in favour of the ALBERT Memorial. Never did tongue talk
more silverly for bronze. Nevertheless, there is a passage in the
episcopal harangue--(let us not forget to observe, it is reported of the
Bishop that in his guilelessness he is wholly unaware of the road from
Oxford to Lambeth)--a passage relating to "things solid" that somewhat
puzzles us. SAMUEL OF OXFORD observed (and MR. SAMUEL CARTER HALL, who,
he said, "represented the artists," smiled and applauded the words)
that--
"It is of the very nature of _things solid_ that, instead of being
borne along upon the surface of the stream of time, _they sink
gradually down_ beneath its waters; and, therefore, with regard to
this great fact--and _a great fact_ I hold it to have been--if any
memorial is to be raised at all, I think it should be raised while
yet the memory of its greatness holds its true place in the
impression of those by whom it was witnessed."
Because, if PRINCE ALBERT has not a monument in bronze to remind the
short memory of human nature that there was once a Crystal Palace in
Hyde Park, the recollection of that great fact, being a "thing solid,"
will gradually sink down into the waters of oblivion. Just as,
doubtless, we should have forgotten Waterloo and its results, if certain
ladies of England had not set up a statue of WELLINGTON acting ACHILLES
in Hyde Park. Well, we have a notion that the best and most enduring
monument to the memory of the fleeting Crystal Palace in the Park will
be provided by the enduring glory, even at the present time, crowning
Sydenham Hill.
We have the greatest admiration of the intellectual subtleties of the
BISHOP OF OXFORD. Like an olive, his nature secretes its own oil.
Nevertheless, we should have liked to hear other bishops upon "things
solid." Where was the BISHOP OF LONDON? Is it possible that any
churchman can speak upon better authority, from deeper experience of
"things solid," than the teacher of Fulham? Why, then, was the chief
power of illustrations of the "solids" of this life merely required of
SAMUEL OF OXON? Moreover, PRINCE ALBERT is, it seems, to have the
statue: and among the alto-reliefs will, doubtless, be CHALLIS reading
his patent of baronetcy.
The thing is decided upon. So gentlemen, unbutton your pockets; and down
with the pounds--the "things solid," if we mistake not, BISHOP OF
OXFORD.
* * * * *
TWO PORTRAITS OF THE CZAR.
In the well-known _Letters from the Baltic_, NICHOLAS is thus drawn in
pen and ink--
"His face is strictly Grecian--forehead and nose is one grand line;
the eyes finely lined, large, open, and blue, with a calmness, a
coldness, a freezing dignity, which can equally quell an
insurrection, daunt an assassin, or paralyse a petitioner: the mouth
regular, teeth fine, chin prominent, with dark moustache and small
whisker; but not a sympathy in his face. His mouth sometimes smiled,
his eyes never."
_Mr. Punch_, having studied the Czar in his works, is disposed to put
forth another sketch; as thus--
His face is strictly all cheek: forehead and nose one grand roundabout
curve; the eyes large, open, round, and expressive as a cannon's mouth;
cannon that can quell an insurrection, or slaughter innocence; the mouth
curved and significant as a scimitar; teeth large and prominent as
chevaux-de-frise; the face altogether a national death-warrant. The
mouth, like scimitar steel, sometimes glistens--the eyes never.
* * * * *
MUTUAL WRONGS.
"We have no Windsor"--says, very mournfully, the EARL OF EGLINGTON--"no
Buckingham Palace, no St. James's, no Kensington, no Hampton Court."
_Mr. Punch_ begs to mingle his tears with the tears of the noble Earl,
_Mr. Punch_ the while lamenting as an Englishman that--"We have no
cockaleekie--no haggis--no singed sheep's-head--no bagpipes!"
* * * * *
GRUMBLING FOR FARMERS.
The late fine weather has enabled us to get the wheat into the ground,
which the previous rains threatened to prevent. Agricultural prospects
thus present a hopeful appearance; but then, by reason of the extent of
land sown, a great many fields must be in a state of seediness.
* * * * *
LADIES' MOUTHS.--An old beau says: "A Lady's mouth never looks so
beautiful as when she is pronouncing the word 'Yes.'"
* * * * *
THE LAST PROCLAMATION.
[Illustration: W]
We, NICHOLAS THE FIRST, Emperor and Autocrat of all the Russias, and
King of all Good Fellows, proclaim:
That we have been insulted by the Turk, whose stony heart we have--on
the bended knees of our Christian spirit--supplicated, but to no
purpose.
We have, as becomes a Christian autocrat, submitted to have our
dearly-beloved Ambassador, PRINCE MENSCHIKOFF, publicly bastinadoed in
the streets of Constantinople.
We have allowed OMAR PACHA to pull the nose of our dearly-beloved
General, PRINCE GORTSCHAKOFF.
We have--by a meekness and endurance unparalleled in the House of
ROMANOFF--begged, suffered, entreated, wept, rolled ourselves in the
dust, to appease and mollify the cannibal spirit of the Turk.
But all in vain. He is stiff-necked, and not to be turned. We,
therefore, propose to march with our sacred soldiers to Constantinople,
and there and then--(Grace having been duly said by the Patriarch of our
Holy Church)--to eat the accursed SULTAN ABDUL-MEDJID alive, and WITHOUT
SALT!
[_Here follows a pious invocation for a blessing on the Imperial
intention._]
* * * * *
CHEAP LIGHTNING-POSTAGE.
The formation of a New General Electric Telegraph Company is
contemplated by _Mr. Punch_.
To supersede and cut out all existing Electric Telegraph Companies will
be the object of the New General Electric Telegraph Company, of which
_Mr. Punch_ meditates the establishment.
Nothing can be clearer to the reflecting mind than that a shock of
electricity is, of itself, one of the cheapest commodities that can be
produced.
Nothing is more notorious than the fact that an electric shock, imparted
to the wire of an Electric Telegraph, is about as dear an article as any
in the market.
The extent of the circuit traversed by a shock of electricity does not
add to its cost. The messenger incurs no travelling expenses.
Yet nine shillings is the sum which "A Poor Man in Trouble," who wished
to inquire respecting a sick relative, complains to the _Times_ that he
was asked to pay for the simple message "Is he better?" with answer, to
be transmitted from a station 46 miles from town to the neighbourhood of
Belgrave Road, Pimlico.
If there is any one speculation peculiarly calculated to pay on the
principle of large sales at low prices, it is manifestly an Electric
Telegraph.
In preference, therefore, to any Austrian or Spanish loan, in which
enterprising parties may be disposed to risk their capital, _Mr. Punch_
invites them to join him with their two or three millions in his
proposed New Electric Telegraph Company; unless the present Companies,
awakened by the fear of competition with _Punch & Co._, should reduce
their prices immediately.
* * * * *
JUSTICE FOR LONDON.
One of the features in the LORD MAYOR'S Show of the other day was a
figure of "JUSTICE, in a Car drawn by Six Horses." Singularly enough,
the six horses showed a disposition to pull different ways, and the
leaders on each side were as obstinate in trying to upset JUSTICE as a
couple of Old Bailey barristers. It was rather a bold measure to
introduce Justice officially into any part of the proceedings on LORD
MAYOR'S Day, for if the goddess were present among the Corporation in
reality rather than in effigy, the probability is, that there would be
no procession on LORD MAYOR'S Day, in consequence of there being no LORD
MAYOR, as a natural result of there being no Aldermen from whom to
select the potentate.
It might have been remarked the other day, that the civic idea of
Justice differs from all the ordinary notions of the character, for the
JUSTICE of the Corporation of London as seen in the procession, instead
of being blindfold, wore a bandage over the forehead in such a way as
not to interfere with her sight, or prevent her from having both her
eyes open to her own interest. Her scales were rather gigantic, but she
did not carry them in her hand, and they seemed to be emblematical of
nothing but the balance she keeps hung up, as it were, without being
accounted for. Poor JUSTICE seemed to be frightfully shaken by the
treatment she experienced in the City; and, after the fatigues of the
day were at an end, was heard to say that she had not a leg to stand
upon. If a representation of Justice for the City had really been needed
for the LORD MAYOR'S Show, how much better it would have been to have
mounted the Corporation Commissioners on the Car, and have displayed
them to the world as the real emblems of that Justice which the City is
likely to experience, when the present disclosures of civic corruption
have produced their legitimate consequence.
* * * * *
SEVERE TEST OF TABLE-MOVING.
Of all Tables we should think the Tables of figures in BRADSHAW'S
_Guide_ would be the most difficult to move--for we only know from our
own painful experience that, whenever we wish to find out a particular
spot, we never can get the Tables to move in the direction we want to go
to!
* * * * *
GIOVENETTI CHE FATT'.--A simple-minded Correspondent asks us the meaning
of an Alderman who has not passed the chair, and is desirous of knowing
whether the Alderman so situated has been unable to get past the chair
by reason of his obesity.
* * * * *
THE AGRICULTURAL INQUISITION.
Here's Government again at we wi' moor new fangled whims and fancies,
A callin' on us vor to gie a statement of our circumstances;
Now, zince we've got to undergoo this delicate investigation,
O' coorse, my friends, our best we'll do to furnish every information.
We be to zay what land we got--how many acres under tillage--
They seeks to find that out for what?--not surely with intent to
pillage.
They wants the number of our stock, which if we wonders why they axes,
At any rate we knows full well it can't be to lay on moor taxes.
We'm to put down in black-on-white, our cows, and pigs, and ship, and
hosses;
Which them as don't know how to write I s'pose must do by means o'
crosses:
Our wheat, our barley, wuts, and rye, our beans, our hay, and straw
moreover,
Our mangold-wurzel, turmuts, ay, and taters, sainfoin, too, and
clover.
P'raps we shall likewise ha' to state the number of our ploughs and
harrows,
Wheel carriages, both small and great, from carts and waggons down to
barrows,
Machines that to the farm belongs, our clod crushers and scarifiers,
And all our forks, and rakes, and prongs, according as the case
requires.
Our poultry booked they may expect--returns o' turkeys and gallanies,
Along o' lists made out correct o' Bantams, Dorkins, Cochin Chaneys,
And geese and ducks, and pigeons; nay, may be they'll want, a
inventory,
Including all the eggs they lay; a pretty joke and likely story!
How 'twas the project fust arose of sneakin in behind the curtain,
By gettin of us to expose our secrets, I consider certain;
'Tis Popery in the Government that wishes for to get possession
Of our affairs; for which intent they tries to bring us to confession.
We very soon shall find, I fear, the country in a sad condition,
'Tis the beginning, all this here, I take it, of the Inquisition,
You'll shortly see the fagots blaze, unless you stand resolved and
steady;
There's the New Forest, anyways, directed to be cut already.
* * * * *
THE AUSTRALIAN ROUTE.--This route, since the discovery of gold, must be
the Root of Evil.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _P--nce Alb--rt._ "SAVE ME, DEAR _PUNCH_, FROM THESE MOST
RIDICULOUS FRIENDS."]
* * * * *
FLUSHING A SEWER.--A CITIZEN'S DREAM.
I snored in slumber comatose,
Soaked, stuffed, and gorged too full by far;
Across my red and bulbous nose
QUEEN MAB then drove her tiny car;
Whereon I clambered precipices,
And tumbled headlong down abysses,
And roamed among strange edifices,
Till I at last saw Temple Bar.
Yes; there was Temple Bar, no doubt,
Of that I felt completely sure;
Yet there was something strange about
The gateway--mystic and obscure--
A character and meaning double;
And from foul puddles, signs of trouble,
Whilst gas around began to bubble,
It formed the mouth of some great sewer.
Then, in the visions of the night,
Behold a Broom the kennel brushed,
And a Voice cried, "'Twill be all right
Ere long!" and then the Voice was hushed;
And then I heard a sullen mutter,
A sort of grumbling in the gutter;
And after that, the same Voice utter
These words: "THE SEWER MUST BE FLUSHED."
When, lo! a noise of dismal cries,
Grunts, groans, and squeaks of wild despair,
The anguish of a thousand sties,
With frightful discord rent the air;
And straightway, in the dreamy juggle,
Approaching waters seemed to struggle,
Gurgle, and dash, and splash, and guggle,
And through the portal burst and tear!
Ah! what a cataract of slush
And monstrous mud was there to see.
Like noisome soup appeared to gush
The sizy torrent, now set free;
And in the mess lurched figures bloated,
With fat heads, whose dull eyes still gloated
On morsels that around them floated
Of callipash and callipee.
The Sword, the Cap, the Mace, the Chain,
Regalia of the Civic Crown,
Disgorged by that enormous drain,
Tangled and hitched with robe and gown,
With acts, and deeds, and charter-scrolls
Of fees and metage, dues and tolls
On corn, fruit, oysters, salt, and coals,
Came rolling, rumbling, tumbling down.
Pie Poudre, Leet and Baron Court,
With Swanhoppers no more to hop.
Those dark and dirty billows' sport,
Together hurled, went squash, and flop:
And one who stemmed, till Hope's last glimmer,
The slab surge that did round him simmer,
The Water Bailiff--sturdy swimmer;
He too was swamped amid the slop.
With sirloins, haunches, all these things
Were mashed; with jelly, ice, and cream,
Chantilly biscuits, legs and wings
Of game and poultry, and the stream
Bore salmon, turbot, hash, and curry,
Goblet and flagon, hurry-skurry,
My brain was bursting with the worry--
And then I started from my dream!
* * *
[Illustration: FLUSHING THE GREAT CITY SEWERS.]
* * * * *
THE RESULTS OF STRIKING.--It is as strange as it is lamentable that
strikes should so commonly end in broken heads, since the moment the men
have once struck there is a stoppage of the mill.
* * * * *
NOT FAR OUT.--A cynical old Cockney of our acquaintance says he
considers the moustache movement to be only a new way the young fellows
have got into of giving themselves 'airs.
* * * * *
KING LEOPOLD REPORTS PROGRESS.
[Illustration: T]
The KING OF THE BELGIANS opened his Chambers last week, and it is to be
regretted that KING LEOPOLD'S excellent speech has been so incorrectly
translated by the London newspapers. No wonder that LORD CLARENDON
complains of the inadequate way in which the journalists render his
despatches. An English dramatic author, hurried in his rapine, could
hardly have adapted a French speech more clumsily than it has been done
for our papers. We subjoin a literal translation:
"GENTLEMEN,
"I am charmed to meet you again. When we separated, you were so kind as
to express your entire satisfaction with the marriage I told you I had
then in view for my son, the DUKE OF BRABANT. I need not inform you that
the match has since come off, because I do not suppose you will easily
forget the portentous (_effroyable_) disturbance we made about it. But
you will be happy to hear that I have taken Mary HENRIETTA OF AUSTRIA
and her husband over to England, and that our charming friend and
relative QUEEN VICTORIA was quite pleased with the bride, and considers
BRABANT a fortunate young fellow.
"It is, I hope, unnecessary for me to say that it was not merely, or
chiefly, to introduce a young wife to a young matron that I endured the
perilous voyage from Ostend to Portsmouth. You will do your King more
justice.
"Allied with the House of Austria, I found in that marriage the
strongest reason why my voice should be heard in England at a
conjuncture (_crise_) when Austria needed an advocate there. But this is
not all. You know how long and how sedulously I have laboured to get the
EMPEROR NICHOLAS to accredit an ambassador from Russia to Belgium. His
Majesty has, for years, disdained my request with Northern haughtiness
(_fierte_), but, either for reasons of mine or his own, he has at last
accorded the favour. Since that boon, it is well known to you that
Russia has had only to ask and to have in Belgium. I was therefore
doubly bound to undertake my English mission, charged as I was with the
interests of Austria and of Russia.
"That the Prince Consort of England and myself retired into the shooting
field together--for the Sovereign of England has a certain
straightforwardness (_droiture_) which makes it difficult to urge
diplomatic considerations in her hearing--you may have learned. If I
alluded to the danger which might accrue to Saxe Gotha in the event of
Russia, Austria, and Prussia not regarding its princes as their friends,
I am sure the august sportsman to whom I addressed such a speculation
will not have listened to me in vain. The friends of MARY HENRIETTA and
of our newly-arrived ambassador have no reason to be dissatisfied with
the effect I produced.
"I may therefore felicitate you, Gentlemen, and myself, on the perfect
concord which exists between Russia, Austria, Saxe Gotha, and Belgium,
and I am glad to add that the aged and accomplished prime minister of
England, the good ABERDEEN, fully concurs in the sentiments of those
four powers.
"Details of your own finance and other topics affecting yourselves will
be supplied by my Ministers, but I could not refrain from personally
informing you of the quadruple alliance which I, and our charming MARY
HENRIETTA, have done so much to cement, and which I trust you will
remember should we ask for any little addition to the estimates.
"That the blessing of, &c."
* * * * *
THE "GOD OF RUSSIA."
NICHOLAS is the acknowledged deity of the Muscovites. A god standing six
feet four in his sacred stockings. The manner in which he recruits his
army to carry on his Holy Wars is very celestial. Sometimes he causes
his angelic Cossacks to surround a boys' school and carry off the
scholars, promoting them from the birch to the knout. In one particular
case two boys, one 12 and the other 14, were carried away, their old
grandmother of 85 raising her hands, doubtless in prayer for the God of
Russia. Who can doubt the Christianity of an Emperor, who is at once the
heart and soul of such a system? Poor fellow! In his last proclamation
he says "He has been goaded into war by the PORTE." Goaded is the word.
Only think of the nasty red-wattled turkey gobbling at and goading a
poor, harmless, innocent bear! We shall next have the Christian dove
pecking out the eyes of the twin-headed eagle.
* * * * *
THE INNKEEPER RHYMER.
Now that every British Innkeeper clearly holds himself privileged to
take as many people in continually as his house will hold, it has become
a question of quite national importance how most effectually to check
their chousing. In our position of Adviser-General to the Nation, we
have of course been nationally consulted in the matter, and we therefore
feel called upon to give our readers--we mean of course the nation--our
opinion on the subject.
It being generally admitted, by everybody but themselves, that the
present system of our Innkeepers has become, like a baby, quite a crying
nuisance, we think it may most properly be dealt with in the cradle: and
we would therefore have our rising generation early prepared for the
fleecing that awaits them. We are sure that by judicious treatment a
wholesome horror of hotels might be easily impressed upon the infant
mind. We would have the landlord take the place of the infantine "Old
Bogy," and figure in our fairytales as the terrible old Ogre, who lives
upon the unsuspecting travellers who come to him: while in all the
juvenile editions of our Natural History he might be represented as a
species, only known in England, of the _Ornithorynchus_, or _Beast with
a Bill_. Instead of the deeds of mythic "Forty Thieves," our nursemaids
should recount the rogueries of an inn; and, instead of threatening a
"dark room" by way of penal settlement for the fractious, they in future
might condemn them to a "private" one at an hotel, lit with nominal wax
candles at half-a-crown an inch. "_Reform your Landlord's Bills_" should
be, of course, an early round-hand copy, and the first thing in the
spelling-book a spell against extortion. In short, no means should be
spared to represent an hotel as a sort of inhumane mantrap, which it is
impossible to get out of without considerable bleeding.
The same wholesome warning might be given through the medium of those
senseless lyrics which are known to us, collectively, as our Nursery
Rhymes. We have long had a contempt for these unmeaning
_Humpty-Dumptys_, and have long considered them a national disgrace.
They were an insult to our cradlehood, and are still continually an
annoyance to our maturer ears. The proverbial wisdom of our ancestors is
but little shown, we think, in having handed them down to us. It is
humiliating to think that in this era of enlightenment, this present
March--or, we should rather say, November--of Intellect, such nonsense
can be tolerated. Any well-regulated baby must, we are persuaded, feel
itself disgraced by it.
In the position we hold as national benefactors, we have long been
anxious to reform these truly "nonsense verses," and we are resolved
that when our stereotyped "want of space" no longer afflicts us, we will
"seriously incline" our pen to an attempt at their amendment. Meanwhile,
upon a subject so suggestive as the present, we can't resist throwing a
little reason in the rhymes; and we feel we shall be doing the infant
state some service by printing, as a specimen, our _Innkeeper Rhymer_.
AIR.--"_Hushaby Baby._"
Chouse away, innkeeper, while you've the chance,
For you'll very soon drive all the tourists to France:
A crown for a breakfast--eight shillings for lunch--
Pay him his bill, and expose him in _Punch_.
AIR.--"_Ride a Cock-horse._"
Dine at the Cross off steak tough as horse,
And charged at the rate of a crown for a course;
With bills ever high, and bows ever low,
You shall have chousing wherever you go.
AIR.--"_Sing a Song of Sixpence._"
Sing a song of fleecing:
A pocket full of gold
In four-and-twenty hours
Will be quite cleaned out, I'm told.
Would you stay a fortnight,
A fortune you must bring,
For while they serve you like a Commoner,
They charge you like a King.
Two shillings for a cup of tea,
And sixpence more for "honey;"
And however light your dinner be,
A heavy sum of money.
Half-a-crown for wax-lights,
Tallowy in smell:
So wherever you're admitted,
You are taken in as well.
* * * * *
FOLLOWING THE FASHION.--The French start the Fashions, and the English
follow them.
* * * * *
[Illustration: MATERIALS FOR A MUSEUM OF CITY ANTIQUITIES.]
* * * * *
THE ALBERT STATUE MOVEMENT.
A meeting of the principal metropolitan Statues took place yesterday
morning at Exeter Hall. Time was when such an assemblage would have been
looked upon as rather an extraordinary event; but recent manifestations
have prepared the public mind for the phenomena of statue moving and
statue talking: and this convention of sculptures created more interest
than astonishment. The object of its attendants was to take into
consideration the proposal for the increase of their number by the
addition thereto of a monument to His Royal Highness PRINCE ALBERT.
The STATUE OF FERGUS MAC IVOR--from the shop-front of MR. SANDERSON,
tobacconist--having been voted into the chair, stated the purpose of the
gathering. Of course the costume of the PRINCE'S statue would be
determined with reference to the associations of Balmoral; and he should
hail the introduction of the illustrious new member to the clan. The
only question was, where to place the Statue? For his part he should
have much pleasure in affording it a site by vacating his own post at
the door, and retiring into the shop.
The STATUE OF GEORGE THE THIRD would willingly resign to the new comer a
position which was painfully conspicuous, and withdraw into an obscurity
where a pigtail would cease to attract perpetual derision.
The STATUE OF GEORGE THE FOURTH, equally with the effigy of his Royal
Parent, would be glad to abdicate in favour of the Statue of the PRINCE
CONSORT. He was nervously sensible of constituting, together with his
quadruped, something very unlike one of the Elgin Marbles. It would
delight him to dismount, and let the PRINCE get up instead.
KING CHARLES THE FIRST'S STATUE at Charing Cross said, perhaps the taste
of the Committee would determine that His ROYAL HIGHNESS should get up
behind.
The DUKE OF YORK'S STATUE felt that there were peculiar reasons why, if
any site were relinquished in favour of the intended testimonial, it
should be his own. The country owed something, anyhow, to PRINCE ALBERT;
but whatever PRINCE ALBERT owed the country, he paid his debts, and his
representative would not be exposed to continual banter on that score.
The STATUE of the GREAT DUKE, from BURTON'S Arch, said that he had the
honour to represent FIELD-MARSHAL THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. FIELD-MARSHAL
THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON had been awarded by the country a Statue during
his life. The same tribute was about to be paid to FIELD-MARSHAL PRINCE
ALBERT. The Statue of FIELD-MARSHAL THE DUKE had nothing to say to any
estimate the country might think fit to form of the comparative
necessity for a Statue of FIELD-MARSHAL THE PRINCE. But that point being
settled, the proper place for the Statue would be parallel to his (the
Statue of the DUKE'S) own. His own was the top of the arch on one side
of the road, and PRINCE ALBERT'S might be that of the gateway on the
other.
NELSON'S STATUE considered that the suggestion of the Statue of the
Noble DUKE was founded on the notion that the monument to PRINCE ALBERT
was intended to commemorate the Great Exhibition. In that case the
gateway at Hyde Park Corner certainly would be the fittest place for it;
near enough to the scene of the triumph, and alongside of the memorial
to the Hero of Waterloo. But, to speak straightforwardly, the fact was,
that the scheme of a Statue to the PRINCE was a device of the
Corporation of London to ingratiate themselves at Court. The Statue was
meant to be a propitiatory concern--to conciliate the protection of
Royalty for the City--and the proper situation for it would be over
Temple Bar, to serve as a Palladium to that edifice and the interests
therewith connected.
GOG and MAGOG, rising together, loudly expressed their approbation of
this view; the adoption of which would tend to secure themselves in
their own places, which they wished to retain as long as they were able,
like all others holding comfortable situations in Guildhall.
A motion embodying the concurrence of the meeting in the opinion that
the Statue of PRINCE ALBERT should surmount Temple Bar was then put and
carried unanimously, when, after the usual vote of thanks, the meeting
broke up, and the molten and graven images departed to their respective
sites.
* * * * *
SHERIFFS' OFFICERS SUPERSEDED.
We hear that an ingenious mechanic at Ipswich has invented a machine to
perform perpetual motion, which is described as "self-acting after being
put in motion by a screw." So is a bailiff who acts on a usurer's writ.
We wonder if the Ipswich automaton would arrest an insolvent?
* * * * *
MOTTO FOR THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH.--"Between you, me, and the Post."
* * * * *
CLOWNS OF THE NEW SCHOOL.
[Illustration: S]
Somebody said that it takes a wise man to make a fool. This stands to
reason, like the parallel proposition, that it takes a man to make a
beast of himself; for if anybody is rendered either beast or fool by his
own act, he cannot have been either the one or the other previously.
But, running counter to the proverb, fools now endeavour to make wise
men, and the Clown on the stage combines the teacher with the tumbler;
is didactic and funny; intermingles philosophy with antics, and
moralizes and makes faces by turns. The play-going public may perhaps
admire this conjunction of light and shade with motley; if so, its taste
will be catered for by enterprising managers. In the preparation of the
Pantomimes for Christmas, the Clowns should be got to rehearse their
parts carefully, with a view to the correct delivery of those discourses
which will constitute the serious portion of their business. When the
Clown throws off his great head, and his regal vestments, or doublet and
trunk hose, and rushes to the foot-lights, he utters an exclamation and
propounds an interrogatory. Tradition requires thus much; but Fashion
will demand more. He will have to expand and amplify the old forms of
words whose brevity has hitherto been sufficiently instructive as well
as amusing, so as to elucidate the fulness of their significance. For
example:--Having been transformed from Emperor to Zany, MR. MERRYMAN, at
the tap of the Fairy's wand, jumps out of his robes, and appears in his
diversified and proper colours. He turns his toes in, and runs up to one
of the stage boxes. He there stoops forwards, resting his hands on his
knees, grins, squints, rolls his eyes, thrusts his tongue out, and
pulling himself by the ears, draws it back again. He then composes his
flake-white and vermilion countenance, and utters the following
soliloquy:--
"On this spot of earth, at this moment of time, between the past and
the future, that is to say, HERE, an aggregation of human entities,
animal creatures endowed with reason and conscience, a multitude of
Objects that constitute You in relation to the One Individual
Subject, Myself: in a word, WE, exist in a state of conscious Being,
of self-cognisant perceptivity and ratiocinativity; in short, ARE!
"In what condition, mental or bodily, of suffering or enjoyment, of
weal or woe, of riches or poverty, of health or disease, of
seriousness or levity, of gravity or mirth, of appetite or satiety,
of wakefulness or somnolence, more briefly, How, in respect to the
state of conscious being, self-cognisant perceptivity and
ratiocinativity, exist, or ARE, that multitude of Objects which in
relation to my Individual Selfhood, constitute YOU?
"To condense my meaning into the fewest words by which it is capable
of being confined, I would remark that,
"Here We Are!
"And to that momentous observation, allow me to add the profound
inquiry,
"How Are You?"
So saying, the Clown flings a summerset, and proceeds to pick pockets,
swallow sausages, and burn himself with the hot poker, varying these
practical pleasantries with dissertations on morals and metaphysics.
* * * * *
THE POST OFFICE LONDON DIRECTORY FOR 1854.
We have perused this volume with considerable pleasure. We observe that
it contains two thousand four hundred and ten pages, most of them
comprising three columns of closely printed matter, and but that we
found it impossible to take the book up, we have no doubt we should have
found it equally impossible to lay it down. As a literary composition it
is really remarkable, for the tone which the author takes up at the
beginning is preserved to the very end, and the same unflaggingness, if
we may be permitted the word, which on page 1 introduces us, with a
PALMERSTONIAN jauntiness, to MR. ABBOTT'S coffee-house in the
Whitechapel Road, conducts us, with a GLADSTONIAN tenacity of purpose,
to MR. WILLIAM YOUNG, the accidental secretary of deaths, on page 2288.
But do not let us be misunderstood. There is no monotony of treatment.
We are successively presented with a series of _tableaux_, or rather
tables, of life, of a perpetually varying character. We first find "our
warmest welcome at an inn," and Green Dragons, Blue Lions, Essex
Serpents, and White Horses, spit, roar, hiss, and neigh before us in all
the frightful friendliness of provincial hospitality. Then we are shown
official circles, and there is no mistaking the individual who is
delineated, whether he lounges and reads the _Morning Post_ in the
Treasury, sternly overhauls the national ledger in the Audit Office, or
waits upon the tides, or overhauls the travelling baskets of returning
young ladies, near the Custom House Stairs. Anon, the mysteries of the
streets of London are laid open to us with a minuteness which neither
ASMODEUS nor MR. PETER CUNNINGHAM has ever attempted. But our author is
not confined to the _trottoir_; trades--whose followers look jealously
on the census-paper, and by no means affectionately on the income-tax
return--are thrown open, and to him everybody reveals his business
instead of telling the prying writer to go about his own. He equally
shines in his portraiture of political life, and not a senator,
hereditary or accidental, spiritual or temporal, escapes his eye. The
next time LORD NAAS has to hunt for MR. KEOGH, he may be spared the
scandal of airing himself eleven times, in vain, upon the mosaics of the
Reform Club; and the next time the nation is looking out for a Premier,
it need not, for lack of an address, select LORD ABERDEEN instead of
_Mr. Punch_. The voluble actuary of the assurance office, the
drab-breeched and white-haired banker, the smart stockbroker and the
smarting stockjobber, the parchment-visaged chamber-counsel, and the
bold-eyed champion at the Old Bailey, the dowager of Mayfair, the
guardsman of the club, the virtuous and self-denying author in his
ANDREW MARVEL chambers, the post-office clerk, and all the men of
letters (ha! ha!) of St. Martin's-le-Grand, the sour bachelor of the
Albany, and the gentle Benedick of St. John's Wood, and the other
myriads who help to make London, from HER GRACIOUS MAJESTY down to--no,
_Punch_ is merciful--are all designated here. In short, inapplicable as
is the word to the biggest as well as the best book of our acquaintance,
the Post Office Directory not only contains all that we want to know,
but precise information as to at least a couple of millions of people
whom--except as readers, in which capacity they exist already--we
sincerely hope that we never shall know.
The following extract gives a good idea of the author's style:--
"Smith John, Hairdresser, 24, Skinner Street, Clerkenwell.
Smith John, Hide and Skin Salesman, Bermondsey Skin Market.
Smith John, Lamp Glass Warehouse, 25, Stonecutter Street.
Smith John, Leatherseller, 31, Hanover Place, Clapham Road.
Smith John, Livery Stables and Van Proprietor, 20, Little Portland
Street.
Smith John, Lodging House, 41, Devonshire Street, Queen Square.
Smith John, _Luke's Head_, P. H. 25, Mercer Street, Long Acre.
Smith John, Oilman, 8, Ward's Place, Hoxton Old Town."
[Illustration]
* * * * *
REFORM IN THE CITY.
Already, reform has been felt in Guildhall. At the LORD MAYOR'S state
dinner, the eighty waiters employed to change plates and pour out for
the Corporation had, every one of them, a whole half-pint of beer! This
allowance was pre-arranged by way of test, and for future guidance. One
Alderman is worth, at least, four waiters. Hence, at all future
banquets, every Alderman will have allowed him a whole quart of beer,
and beer of the bitterest into the bargain.
* * * * *
A FEARFUL STRIKE.--Talking of Strikes, we hope the EMPEROR OF RUSSIA
will not take it into his head to strike the balance of Europe.
* * * * *
[Illustration: WAITING FOR THE CARRIAGE.
_Charlie._ "THIS WILL BE A STUPID AFFAIR, GEORGY."
_Georgy._ "OH, YES--ONLY A WHITE FROCK AND BLACK MITTEN PARTY--VERY
SLOW!"
[_Old Nurse wonders what next._]
* * * * *
SONGS OF THE GEOLOGICAL SOCIETY.
Adapted by a Late President.
AIR.--"_O a' the Airts the Wind can blaw._"
O a' the airts the wind can blaw
I dearly like the west,
For there Silurian beds abound,
The beds that I lo'e best;
There's limestone blue, and sandstone too,
Wi' slate and shale between.
And deep below, the coarse grits go,
Wi' purple slates and green.
There's trilobites in Bala bed,
Product as in coal shale,
There's mony a fish in Auld, Auld Red,
Wi' heterocercal tail;
There's no a Mezozoic rock
Hauds trilobites within,
There's mony a Palaeozoic block
Whar trilobites are seen.
* * * * *
COBDEN ON EVIL SPIRITS.
MR. COBDEN has written another of those pithy letters on great
principles that--some day--will make a very charming little volume of
_Cobdeniana_. He is solicited to give his opinion on the best mode of
"Opening the trade in spirits?"
"The best way," replies sagacious RICHARD, "of dealing with the monopoly
of spirits is to abstain from drinking them, which for upwards of twenty
years I have done."--Spirits make felons, lunatics, and suicides, says
MR. COBDEN. Hence, the Bottle might surmount Newgate and Bedlam. MR.
COBDEN does not drink spirits; but, moderately, he drinks wine--wine
that cheereth the heart of man? Will he, then, do his best that the
masses of his countrymen may take a glass with him? The wine-growers of
France want to sell us pure, cheap, healthy wine--wine that would soon
destroy burning gin, inflammatory brandy. France needs iron, England
claret. Will MR. COBDEN, if only as an apostle of peace, help us, that
we may exchange British metal for Gallic grape? We should like to drive
the English "pig" into the French vineyard.
* * * * *
NOTHING--A NEW DEFINITION.--That portion of a lady's head on which her
bonnet rests.
* * * * *
IMAGINARY CONVERSATION.
(_Without the least foundation._)
_Mr. Punch._ CAPTAIN LEICESTER VERNON, you will be good enough to answer
a few questions.
_The Captain._ Sir, I shall be happy to do so.
_Mr. Punch._ You are, CAPTAIN, I believe, the adapter of the drama
called _The Lancers_, performing at MR. CHARLES KEAN'S theatre?
_The Captain._ I am.
_Mr. Punch._ You are also the member for Chatham?
_The Captain._ I am.
_Mr. Punch._ You intend to take your seat in the next Parliament, and do
your duty by your constituents and the nation?
_The Captain._ Such is my desire.
_Mr. Punch._ And the aspiration does you credit. Some very important
questions will come before the Legislature during the approaching
Session.
_The Captain._ Ah! They always say that--always.
_Mr. Punch._ And rightly, Sir. But in the next Session we are promised
measures whose importance is indisputable. In the first place, CAPTAIN,
there is the Reform Bill. To vote rightly--I will not say speak
sensibly--upon its clauses, some information is necessary to a member of
Parliament. Favour me with a sketch of the history of popular
representation, of the principles on which you consider it should be
based, and of the arguments for and against extension of the suffrage.
_The Captain._ Really--a--a--
_Mr. Punch._ Ah! You have not studied the subject. Well. We are to have
a measure for the better distribution of the revenues of the Church of
England. Pray what is the amount of those revenues, and upon what tenure
are they held?
_The Captain._ Amount. Tenure. Really--a--a--
_Mr. Punch._ Ah! you have not studied the subject. _Non omma possumus
omnes._ Well--we are to have a revision of the criminal law. What do you
consider the principal defects of the present system, and what remedies
would you adopt with regard to old, as distinct from juvenile offenders?
_The Captain._ Distinction. Come--well--why--a--if--that is--a--
_Mr. Punch._ Ah! You have not studied the subject. Well. The question of
Colonial Administration is to be raised, and the comparative advantages
of central and of local self-government will be discussed. Will you
sketch the working of each system in our colonies, distinguishing those
to which constitutions have been granted, and will you point out the
defects of both the existing systems?
_The Captain._ Why--a--if you come to foreign parts--why--a--
_Mr. Punch._ Ah! You have not studied the subject. Well. We shall have
to consider a most important topic, partly legal, partly social; I mean
the doctrine of partnership, and of limited liability, on the wise
treatment of which depends the welfare of myriads of our population.
What is your theory of partnership?
_The Captain._ Really--as to topics of that head--a--a--
_Mr. Punch._ Ah! You have not studied the subject. Then, Sir, with every
one of the great questions of the next Parliament unstudied by you, why
do I find you wasting your time in translating French plays for MR.
CHARLES KEAN. Is _he_ getting up your Parliamentary information for
_you_? (THE CAPTAIN _bursts into tears_.) There, there--I only gave you
a hint, and there are three months to the meeting of Parliament. If you
distinguish yourself there, I shall have nothing to say to _The
Lancers_; but if not--
[THE CAPTAIN _rushes off to buy_ MILL, BENTHAM, HALLAM, DE LOMME,
BLACKSTONE, _&c._ _&c._
* * * * *
CURIOUS ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.
LORD MAYOR SIDNEY never can say "Incongruous." Let him try as he will,
he never can make it anything but "Incongouus." For instance, with
regard to his absurd procession, he confessed it was "an in-Congouus
mixture."
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Lady._ "NO, I'VE NOTHING FOR YOU. YOU ALWAYS ASK ME
EVERY TIME I CROSS."
_Boy._ "YES, AND EVERY TIME YOU CROSSES, YOU ALLUS GIVES ME NOTHINK!"]
* * * * *
COURTESY AND CONTROVERSY.
In a kindly and reasonable letter to the _Times_, the REV. J. M. CAPES,
a Roman Catholic clergyman, recommends controversialists, both those of
his own creed, and Protestants, to conduct their discussions with
moderation and decency. This excellent advice, we are sure, will be
followed by all disputants of either sect who are arguing for truth. DR.
CUMMING approves of it. So doubtless will DR. NEWMAN. Nay, perhaps one,
or two, or even three more, on each side, will adopt the judicious and
amiable suggestion of MR. CAPES.
But as the object of the great majority of polemics is not truth but
triumph, the probability is that they will not confine themselves to
unadorned logic, but like a sort of candidates at the theological
hustings, will continue to bandy aspersions, as heretofore, and cover
one another with all the ridicule they can, each with the view of
bringing his adversary into contempt and odium with the British Public.
Moreover, there is a stake at issue--no offence either to Rome or
Geneva; liberty of thought, speech, and writing; freedom, political and
social. The question is, whether Britons shall be subjugated to a
priesthood and a foreign power--and not only that, but whether, by
receiving the religion of Rome, we may not engage ourselves to accept
the institutions of Naples. Which question it is not likely that Britons
will discuss dispassionately; and moderation may be inculcated to those
who are at issue upon it with about as much hope as gentleness and
forbearance may be preached to the belligerents in Moldo-Wallachia.
MR. CAPES complains of "a certain class of objects" of Roman Catholic
faith and affection being "made the subjects of scorn, ridicule, and
reviling." Very bad taste this on the part of Protestant buffoons. But
since, if the objects alluded to are worthy of reverence, any insult
that may be offered to them can hurt nobody but the scoffer, surely such
bad taste ought not to annoy MR. CAPES further than by exciting in his
mind a painful anxiety for the fate of those who are guilty of it.
Let MR. CAPES consider what manner of persons those are who are vexed by
having their persuasions derided. They are not those who believe that
two and two make four; no, but those who believe that two and two make
something else. They are those who believe what MR. CAPES believes; and
those who believe themselves to be Kings or Deities.
Alluding to a particular tenet, which to Protestants appears contrary to
common sense, MR. CAPES says--
"Let not such a doctrine be made the subject for jesting, scoffing,
contemptuous sneers, or those still more revolting attempts at
convincing us that we are fools, which the followers of Exeter Hall
occasionally adopt."
It seems strange that the attempt to convince MR. CAPES that he is a
fool should be still more revolting to him than the derision of what he
esteems most holy. But, not to dwell on this point, how, we may ask, if
a dogma is absurd, is it possible to convince a man that it is so
without at the same time convincing him that he is a fool for believing
it? To use a rather West British form of speech, we are sure that any
wise man who differs from MR. CAPES would be much obliged to that
reverend gentleman for proving to him that, in respect of that
difference, he was a fool.
* * * * *
THE BARRISTERS OF ENGLAND!
The Barristers of England, how hungrily they stand
About the Hall of Westminster, with wig, and gown, and band;
With brief bag full of dummies and fee book full of _oughts_,
Result of the establishment of the New County Courts.
The Barristers of England, how listlessly they sit,
Expending on each other a small amount of wit;
Without the opportunity of doing something worse,
By talking nonsense at the cost of some poor client's purse.
The Barristers of England, how when they get a cause,
They (some of them) will disregard all gentlemanly laws;
And bullying the witnesses upon the adverse side,
Will do their very utmost the honest truth to hide.
The Barristers of England, how with _sang froid_ sublime,
They undertake to advocate two causes at one time;
And when they find it is a thing impossible to do,
They throw one client overboard, but take the fees of two.
The Barristers of England, how rarely they refuse,
The party they appear against with coarseness to abuse;
Feeling a noble consciousness no punishment can reach
The vulgar ribaldry they call the "privilege of speech."
The Barristers of England, how often they degrade
An honourable calling to a pettifogging trade,
And show how very slight the lines of separation are,
Between the cabman's license, and the "licence of the Bar."
The Barristers of England, how, if they owe a grudge,
They try with insolence to goad a poor Assistant-Judge;
And after having bullied him, their bold imposture clench
By talking of their high respect for the Judicial Bench.
The Barristers of England, how sad it is to feel
That rant will pass for energy, and bluster goes for zeal;
But 'tis a consolation that 'mid their ranks there are
Sufficient gentlemen to save the credit of the Bar.
* * * * *
DONE BROWN AGAIN.
"MR. PUNCH,--When will Sivilians learn to hold their _assinine_ tongs
about millitary affairs, I should like to know? Just read this. It is in
your preshous _Times_ this morning.
'The Indian Sepoys are very fair troops.'
"Now, Sir, I ask you, is such blazing ignoranse to be tollerated? I have
served in India, Sir, and the Seapoys are all the _brownest beggars_ you
ever saw. Mahoggany's a fool to them. And yet the _Times_ pretends to
tell officers and gentlemen their duty. By showing wich up will oblige,
_Mr. Punch_,
"Your Obedient Servant,
"_Pall Mall_." "A CAVALRY OFFICER."
* * * * *
Nesselrode Pudding.
Take as much gammon as will lie in the compass of a diplomatic circle;
and mince along with butter, sugar, and pigeons' milk in equal
quantities. Add olives, well bruised, in sufficient proportion to
flavour; and when thoroughly incorporated, mix the whole with puff paste
and flummery made into a mess. Mould in a twisted shape, and plunge into
hot water, where allow it to bubble, the longer the better. Turn it out
when thoroughly done, and serve cool with _Sauce a la Tartuffe_.
* * * * *
MUNICIPAL LABOURS.
That popular work, "_The Stomach and Its Difficulties_," gives the most
accurate notion of the exertions which have been made by the Corporation
of London.
* * * * *
OVERFLOWING WITH EXTRAVAGANCE.--A good November Fog is the cause of poor
authors being extremely extravagant, for it forces them to burn "the
midnight oil" at noonday.
* * * * *
THE CITY INQUISITION.
[Illustration: A]
Among the numerous points which have struck _Mr. Punch_ in perusing the
evidence taken before the invaluable Commission which is daily forging
the hatchet destined to hew down that rotten old tree the Corporation,
and scatter its owls and bats, is the remarkably miscellaneous character
of the information with which the witnesses favour the Commissioners.
Any gentleman who is passing and chooses to step in, is politely asked
by the Chairman whether he happens to know anything about the City; to
which, with equal off-handedness, he replies, "Well, yes," or "Well,
no," as the case may be, and then his evidence is taken. While _Mr.
Punch_ was waiting to make SHERIFF WALLIS happy by telling him that he
approved of that Sheriff's conduct in refusing to contribute to the
SIDNEY Spectacle, he heard something of this kind.
MR. MONTMORENCI JONES: Do I know much about the City? Well, no, not
much, but I shall be happy to tell you anything that occurs to me. I
have to go to the City sometimes on money matters. Live there? No, I
should think not. Who lives there but porters, junior partners, and
warehouse cats? I live in Regent Street. But I don't despise the City. I
think there are some good points about it. The things in the shops are
much better than the West End things--and so far cheaper, but as to
actual price it's about the same. You're cheated in the City because
ground is so dear, and at the West End because the tradesmen must pay
for those gaudy, gilded, ginshop-looking fronts. But the City men are
sharper, and insist on a better article--_we_ believe anything a
tradesmen tells us. If you will cleanse away the LORD MAYORS and Fleet
Ditches, and a few things of that kind; keep out those PICKFORD'S vans
and other monster abominations, so that one's cab may not be smashed
every time one passes through Temple Bar; widen the thoroughfares, and
prevent people from dining at one o'clock, so that one smells dinner
before one has well finished breakfast--I think that the welfare of the
City would be materially promoted. I may mention, too, that I have seen
some very pretty girls in St. Paul's Churchyard, and not so badly
dressed as you might expect, but the poor things get jostled so
dreadfully by the City fellows, who rush about like JEAMESES on an
errand, that they always look frightened. I think the Police, that make
the cabs go slowly past churches, might be told to keep these fellows at
a decent walk when going near ladies. Take a note of that suggestion for
your Report.
MR. SUFFEET DE PERISTYLE: I am an architect. O, yes. I have taken much
interest in the City; and sometimes, while shaving, I have mentally
sketched out plans for improving it. Will I state any? With pleasure;
and as my principal plan has relation to the Corporation, it is the more
desirable for you to hear it. I am for dealing boldly with the City. Let
us begin at Temple Bar, which I would not remove. Take down the whole of
the houses on both sides of Fleet Street and Ludgate Hill, and clear the
space to the Thames. Embank the Thames. On the left side of Fleet
Street, erect a splendid series of halls, cloisters, and habitations,
reaching from Temple Bar to St. Paul's. Throw King's College, the London
University, Merchant Tailor's, the Blue Coat School, and the
Charterhouse into these, and re-endow them, and pay all expenses by
confiscating the Corporation estates, and, if necessary, the private
property of the Aldermen. Let the right hand side of Fleet Street be a
beautiful meadow, with fountains and statues, to the Thames. Preserve
_Mr. Punch's_, of course, but rebuild it in alabaster, and make it the
feature of the scene. Take down St. Paul's and re-construct it in white
marble, which will wash, and clear away in its rear an area of a quarter
of a mile, to be paved with mosaic.--(_The Commission, fairly aghast and
out of breath, cause the witness to be removed._)
MR. GRUBB: I keep the accounts in a City house, as my father did before
me, and I hope my son will after me. I do not desire to see any
alteration in the Corporation, in the City, or anywhere. I was very
happy on my tall black stool for forty years, and now they've pulled a
house down in their precious improvements, and the sun falls right in my
eyes, and I have been obliged to move the desk at which my father took
his seat in 1789. Time of the French Revolution? I dare say it was; I
don't take much heed of politics, especially since BILLY PITT. You've
nobody like him now. I saw his funeral in Feberwerry, 1806--yes, I saw
that last year, but it was not equal to BILLY PITT'S. If you'll take my
advice you'll let well alone; but of course you won't. I don't know what
the world's coming to--the youngsters in our house are taking to
moustarshiars, and a young radical of sixteen declares he can't exist
without his shower-bath. Little enough such brats washed themselves in
my times--a dip in the New River once a month, or so, satisfied them,
and somehow we managed Trafalgar and Waterloo without your boards of
health, and missionaries in sewers, or whatever you call them. Once
more, I say, let well alone.
* * * * *
PRINCE _PUNCH_ TO PRINCE ALBERT.
Illustrious and excellent brother,
Don't consider me rude or unkind,
If, as from one Prince to another,
I give you a bit of my mind--
And I do so with all the more roundness,
As your conduct amongst us has shown
A propriety, judgment, and soundness
Of taste, not surpassed by my own.