Punch 1852: Vol 23

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LONDON : PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE, 85, FLEET STREET. “AND SOLD BY ALL BOOKSELLERS, 1852 Jae

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ITEFRIAR

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‘(HERE can no longer be any doubt of it—we must fortify ourselves. Our national defences being—for the best part—our national hearts and bones, and sinews, must be put in the very soundest and strongest condition ; and, alive and hungry to the fact, could we fall upon a blither occasion, and, withal, a jollier season, to set about putting ourselves in order, than on the occasion that at the same time gives to rejoicing England another Volume of Puncu, and another Christmas ? Another Volume of Puncu may be modestly considered as at least another three-decker and another regiment of cavalry and infantry added—and how economically added!—to the national forces. There are so many elements of moral strength in every Volume of Mr. Puncu that, meekly conscious of what he has bestowed upon his country in this his last contribution—he sits down (in anticipation) to his Christmas beef and pudding with the lightest heart and strongest digestion. For it is needful—says the Quzzn from her Throne—it is needful, my beloved people, that, without wishing to rumple the peaceck feathers of our lively neighbours, we look to our national defences. “ They must be settled for ever,” says Mx. Disnare.i; great statesmen never condescending to legislate for an hour less than eternity. Mr. Puncu, then, having bestowed his usual Christmas gift—im a new volume for Christmas—in his benign manner exhorts his countrymen, and especially his countrywomen (seeing how near and dear the sympathy is between them!) so to improve the present Christmas, that it shall be to them as at once a grand national review and a patriotic protest. Let the field of the table-cloth be as the field of a sham battle, with the foes we are supposed “to hate, before us.”’ Glorious Sirloin, as he blushes at the knife, may touch the heart with a thought of “stern delight.” As his blood streams into the dish, let us smile with a new pride at one source of our national defences. How the hero bleeds ; and how by his very blood does he make new heroes !

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But consider the Christmas board; and chew, and swallow, and digest a moral, from all that it creaks | and groans under; and all for the strengthening of our national defences ! Consider this Goose! How many geese will smoke upon Joun Buuu’s table; all of them, by the contemplative spirit of the season, made types and representatives of the “ proud insulting foreigner!” How that army of geese vanishes, hardly leaving a drum-stick, behind! How they are seattered and destroyed, their memory mildly smelling of sage, and it may be “the meed of one melodious tear” granted in onions. And then the Turxizs—the tremendous force of turkies! How they clamorously gobbled; and how— with all their feathers rigid as though turned to steel (unplucked iron pens!) they stedfastly intended—turkey- like—to fly at the rep! And where are the turkeys now? Thousands and thousands lie on the field of the glorious table-cloth, in manacles of sausages. These, we say, in the sham battle of the Cloth of Diaper, represent the fallen and enslaved; but we are generous enemies; we take them to our breasts (inside, too,) and magnanimously break with our teeth the chains that bind them. Pivum-ruppines! What has Cherbourg arsenal—what Vincennes of round shot in number and weight, in comparison with the piles (nay, the Great Pyramids) of plum-puddings, all of them to fall, like spent shot, at Christmas ? Mince-pies! Think them forts, outworks, bastions thrown up by the invader,—and with spoon and fork, carry them ! Snar-pracon! The hour has arrived ; and spirits burn blue! Old and young, the “ tender and fair,” gather around that cauldron bowl, and with ghastly faces (for ten minutes!) desperately plunge hands—(small | white hands and taper fingers, some hallowed with circle of gold, some it may be just thrilling with the notion of it,,—desperately plunge hands into the boiling, blazing fire-water, therefrom extracting many a plum !—The while the blue fire flickers on the ceiling, and in burning “ gouts” drops upon the combatants and falls upon the carpet. What is this but mimic war? What Snap-dragon, but type of the horrible, destroying, flame-breathing | real Dragon whose breath kills thousands, slaying even women and little children? And even women and little children—should the real Dragon think to come—will take heart and strength to assail and kill him: tearing him to pieces (no bigger than raisins), and as the flames of spirituous old Jamaica and old Cognac are quenched in darkness, so quenching the desolating flames of the real Dragon: not Snap-dragon, but Nar-pracon. Puncu—exhorting all the folks of England, in this manner and at this season to fortify their national and natural defences—wishes each and all of them “A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.”

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A “SMALL” GAGGLE AT THE CRYSTAL PALACE. We welcome a little phiet by one “ Jonuw Smaxt, Fetter Lane,” in reprobation of the resolution to place the Crystal Palace at Sydenham, as an offshoot from the Brighton Railway. We welcome it : for nothing Great ever yet succeeded that was not first hissed at by something very Sma. We therefore hail the voice of Sma tas a happy omen. We receive his arguments as witches say their prayers— bodbueni: and therefore count Smart—“ but that’s not much ”— amongst the Crystal champions, who shout “ Hey for Sydenham, by the Brighton Rail! ” : Nevertheless, Smaxx shall be heard in his own tones. “The public,” says Smat, “has an insuperable dislike to go Hast.” The wise men of the public came from that point. “If it [the public) goes to Greenwich, it is but once a year: and a day’s flmg amongst citizens, | coalmen, shop-boys, and domestic servants”—Sma Lt speaks of such | folks as becomes a Fetter Lane aristocrat—“ will not do as a com- mercial reliance for an enterprise which is to stand all the year and every year.” Sat suggests a south-western site: hundreds of thousands, he says, journey to Hampton Court: and wherefore, oh, Smatiest of the SmaLLt? Because, at Hampton Court, there are Hampton Gardens. Now, at Sydenham there will be Crystal Palace Gardens! Given the attraction, shall we not inevitably find the visiting hundreds of thousands. Folks—those wretched people, the winhdl ena eiaaen artisans, and so forth, go in multitudes “ once a year” (twice) into Greenwich; and wherefore only twice? Because | only twice a year is aught to be seen at all worthy of the holyday. usands | No: the tho | of Eden in which Paxton shall be the great Apam,—and with snow on | steam on to Rosherville ; even as the thousands go to Hampton. Now, take Rosherville, Richmond, and Hampton ; multiply all their combined attractions, five hundred or five thousand fold, and place them under that Firmament of Crystal, in that Garden our house-tops, we shall have—yes, even artisans, with their wives and children, swarms of them—think of that, oh Sma, amid your barbaric gold and pearl of Fetter Lane—swarms of them at Sydenham sauntering | through orange-groves, wondering at bread-trees, beholding ginger yet green, oh, Smatt—and breathing Ind and Araby. And this, not to the south-west, bat with nostrils south-east of London. We shall not wonder to see Smatt himself, or one of his numerous tribe, gamboling, and after his own way, cracking his jokes on a cocoa-tree. But Smatu’s aspirations and yearnings lie west; for westward live dukes, and earls, i Smatt. “ The public,” says Smaxt, “ canriot feel the same confidence in these men”—such folks, for instance, as one Joseru Paxtows, and | individuals called Fox and Hesperson, and Owey Jones, and men of that sort of name—“cannot hold them,” says Smaut, “to be the creators and trustees of a national work, as the Exeter Hall men might | have been;” and then Smaxt counts off upon his glowing finger-tips | this point. | thing—the people ene, the names of dukes, and earls, and viscounts. SMAaLu is very great on It is acknowledged that in England the nobility do every- We forget the name of the Duke who engineered the Thames Tunnel; mankind do not remember the Marquis who demonstrated and carried out the Electric Telegraph ; nay, 80 oblivious are we of noble benefactors, that even the name of the Earl who established the Penny Postage, for the moment escapes us. viscounts, dear to the small pin’s-head heart of | Now, “untitled Directors ”—writes a “ Brighton Shareholder,” making money down to rescue it—did raise £500,000 to pe glory—and did secure the names of Paxtow, Fox, Wyatt, and Owzw Jones, to the back of the bill which they have drawn Lo public con- fidence, as a guarantee that the amount raised shall be well spent, and the national undertaking nobly carried out.” gentlemen (there is not a D among them) bring very decent cha- racters from their last = Bey ~ Crystal House in Hyde Park. But Sat has, no doubt, a few flower-pots of land on the South- Western line: haply, he may have a few shares. And ¢hat may be the reason he cannot abide Sydenham; fiat the cause that fills the public with “an insuperable dislike to go East.” But Smatt, very fine by degrees, gets beautifully Jess as he proceeds in his theme ; and at last becomes so diminished, that he is no longer visible to the naked eye. Even as the minutest of insects, engendered in bad vinegar, he must be put a microscope, ere, like the show- man’s ae: we can duly consider him “from the end of the tip of the tail.” tuate it in all its | snout to MR. G. F. YOUNG'S WONDERFUL GOOSE. HE learned birds of Mute. VANDERMEERSCH are ver wonderful—but so is Ma, G. F. Youna’s goose. That gen- tleman has instructed the sa- gacity of a goose to such a point of intelligence, that its performances—hitherto given in private—have met with rap- turous commendation. Last week Ma. Youna’s goose per- formed before Lonp Despy and party. We will briefly describe the entertainment. The whole alphabet, in barley bread, is laid before the goose : when the sagacious bird, at the given si picks out, eating each le‘ ter, the | letters—“ P.R.O.T.E.C.T.L.O.N.’ The goose is said to be the only | creature at present believing in what it swallows. The Progress of Conversion. | Cowversiow is a word which is continually startling the eyes of those who read the newspapers. A short time ago, Rome was making numerous converts. She has not made so many lately, thanks to the rebuff which his papal Hoximsess has experi here. Spain is just now more particularly ing in the conversion way, her government | paving converted certain and coupons ; in other words, the Spanish Debt. Convert, the Spaniards call it, as the wise, according to Pistot, call it convey. The Apostle of this Spanish conversion is that particularly | holy man, 8, Hrzzonymus Dippues. dalsainaiinea ienbinanen Taz Kuspest or Mew.—A Sheriff’s cflicer is a man who never ' leaves another in Distress ! VOL. XXIIL B Sm uu the very least, indeed—“ did actually serve the Palace—did pay | And truly, these |

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI SEASONABLE INVENTION. f\ bad mended themselves universal ” —** Foois’ Cars.” N.B. Beware of dangerous counterfeits! MISS VIOLET AND HER “ OFFERS.” CHAPTER X. “Lapy Ossian!” said papa, “and at this hour in the morning” (for we were seated (éle-a-(éle, as usual, at an unusually late breakfast, in town, a few days after the Derby), “ what on earth brings her unearthly- here? Will you see, VioLeT my dear?” shi As I was leaving the room, Lapy Osstaw entered. What a hand-| some Scotchwoman she must have been, in other days, and in the style of | Brack Acyes of Dunbar! The keen dark eyes are still vivid, but the tall thin figure, and severe features, now instil awe rather than admiration into timid people. I believe her ancestor was the sharp-witted nobleman who, when Six Henry pe Bouun was struck down by Ropert Bruce, in the presence of the two armies at Bannockburn, dismounted, under pretence of assisting the king, and subsequently contrived, by mistake, to find himself on the back of the splendid English charger instead of his own rather dubious animal. The family is unders‘ood to have persevered in | the ancestral practice of helping themselves, but, upon all occasions, | piously attributing such help to Providence. Lapy Ossian 1s a childless dowager, tolerably weel tochered, and she devotes herself a good deal to the conversion of Hottentots and to the extirpation of Papists. She is certainly a person of very imposing appearance, and her expression is what papa calls fa/conesque. In a drawing-room she looks exceedingly aristocratic; but you would not think her out of place if you saw ft perched upon a mountain crag, and glowering upon a harmless flock of innocent pic nic people below—a proud hawk watching the poor pigeons pecking about. I have my own special reasons for adding that Lapy Ossian is aunt to Sim Fingat Menvyy, the Grenadier Guardsman, introduced in my last chapter. “| want to run away with your little girl, Mx. Brompton, for a few hours, if you can spare her,” said Lapy Osst1an, looking at me so very | hawkishly, that I could quite imagine her making a great swoop across the coffee-cups and sntehing me. “She will answer for her own engagements,” replied papa, looking at me mischievously. i lady.” As if he ever gave me a hint of a wish, dear old thing, without my feeling quite grateful to him for showing how I could please him “T am going to Exeter Hall,” said Lapy Osstan, “and [ should like VioLet to accompany me. | have reserved tickets, of course; only the sooner we are there, the better.” And we were there very soon. Lapy Osstan would not enter the Hall at the great front door with the Greek word, meaning, | think, * Brotherly Love,” over it, but went in at a side entrance. She dashed fearlessly at the angles and labyrinths of the interior, which is divided into sets of chambers, the abode of Brotherly Love in Al! | its Branches. Until one has read the inscriptions on the ground glass in the doors, it is difficult to imagine how easily the labour of love can be subdivided and split up. One set of subscribers exhausts its spiritual affections upon the Polynesian heathen; another sends love and tracts to the Copts and Nubians; and another, again, expends its philanthropy upon the Juvenile ‘Troglodytes of Moldavia. I did not, as we went along, notice the apartments of any society in aid of English chilcren or of English emigrants; but I suppose these were up-stairs. Lapy Ossian hurried me on, through various passages, and presently we came into a very low-roofed place, where Tomi hear the buzz of a LL Gentlemen having a “ difference’ to newly invented Patent Safety Caps, manufac- tured expressly for the use of duellists, and warranted to miss fire, to a living certainty, upon ail occasions affairs of honour they will be found to give | satisfaction. No principal should be | E without them. Caution.—To prevent mistakes, each box enclosed in an appro- | priate green wrapper, engraved with a cock pheasant, and labelled very distinctly | She has a terrific Seotch pedigree, and | “T never venture to interfere with the young | RESIDENT CANDIDATES. Iw default of any other qualifications, we find there are several aspirants to Parliamentary in various places, who rest their claims on the fact of their being ‘Resident Candidates.” The whole strength of their addresses consists in the fact that their “ address”’ happens to be in the Borough they are desirous of representing. An individual thus situated seems to think that the fact of his having a “ local habitation,” “an with the necessity for his having “a name” in the p whose suffrages he is soliciting. If he isa “resident,” he appears to think there need only be one step from his own house to the House of Commons. ” are recom- | rovide | with the In The Monopolists for our Money. It appears that the Guild of Fellowship Porters are among the champions of Monopoly. These are the Protec- tionists for us, beonaes they want to keep all burdens to themselves. ly NewpecarteE, I should like to be Spooner!!!” | gallery, high in air, where we could see everybody in the Hall, and | everybody could see us from head to foot. | Such an assembl | may, to see raver | thousand people, peacefully gathered together, in |} excitement, perhaps, but in no disorder, and concentrating their atten- | tion upon a subject which addresses it by no help of show or splendour. For in Exeter Hall, itself one of the ugliest rooms in the world, there is literally nothing to see, except the crowd that fills it. But this sight | quite bewildered me for some moments, for I had never beheld anything like it, and I felt, for the first time, the imposing presence of a multitude. A large clock just then announced twelve, and, punctual as its own works, there entered upon all parts of the platform a file of gentlemen, some of them carrying blue wands. This was a signal for great applause, other blue wands, planted in different parts of the room, rapping violently. The file speedily took possession of the various chairs, except the central one. A thin, precise-looking gentleman, in an evening dress of black, with a high white cravat, and a look of sanctimonious self- satisfaction, then turned to the meeting, and said in what I thought was an unnecessarily solemn voice (but I hear he is a Member of Parlia- ment, and adopts the same agreeable undertaker’s manner, whether dis- cussing the means of Church Reform, or the price of Members’ mutton- chops)— “T move that the HonourasLe Jasper Crowsroot do take the chair.” “Jasper Crowsroot!” I thought. “ Why, that is the elderly gentle- man who makes such a noise at the Opera, and shouts out when he throws a bouquet at Ceriro, just as a cricketer eries “ Play!” when he | delivers a ball. What can he be doing here?” There was quite a sensation, for it seems that Exeter Hall rather likes an occasional recruit from the Opera stalls (if he have a title of any kind), and pets him very indulgently. “A most gentlemanly man, a perfect gentleman, and brother to an Earl,” pas: ittle gallery. And then forth stepped the Honovrasie Jasper, look- ing, perhaps, a little worn with forty years on town, but with a beantiful black wig, the whitest of teeth, lemon-coloured gloves, and a geranium flower in his button-hole. He made the meeting two very fine Gores | THE Fourtn bows, smiled at the ladies in the galleries, dropped into his chair, and put up his glass, all as naturally as if the overture were over, and he were about to listen to Grist’s aria @’intrata. There was some introductory business, and then a frightened-looking | gentleman read a long report. I suppose his nerves kept alternati between weakness and sudden strength, for he mumbled and burri |over most part of it; but would sometimes suddenly shout forth a | few lines—not at all important ones—in a dreadfully loud voice. But | had not much opportunity of listening to the speeches; for Lapy Ossran said that she had brought me there that we might have a little quiet uninterrupted conversation. And, fixing her dark falcon eyes on me, she asked, in a low distinct voice, “Ts it true that you are going to be married, my dear?” I was naturally a good deal astonished at the question, but I assured her ladyship that nobody had taken the trouble to obtain my consent, at least, to any such arrangement. “ But you are engaged, Miss Bromptoy,” she said, with a still more intense glance than before. I felt that | was colouring under her starin eyes; but | answered that nothiog of the kind was the case. But f was afraid to ask, in return, whose name she had coupled with mine. | almost severely. great multitude. In a few minutes we were in the front of a little | view for you.” “We are not speaking the mere language of the world,” she said, “T am to taxe your word that there is no marriage in ! I+ is a striking sight, let the object be what it A Wisa Wortuy or Atexannern—“If I were not rapidly along our |

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. 3 I tried to pluck up a little spirit, and to say something about endea- vouring always to make a sincere answer toa proper question ; but it was difficult in that haughty presence, and my sentence was scarcely complete. “know,” she said, with a petrifying sort of smile, “that young ladies, educated in the world’s ways, see no harn in what are profanely called, | believe, white lies, about such matters; but I do not imagine that you would take such a liberty with me as to let me proceed upon a false basis,” ° Her language was growing so very mysterious, that my curiosity got the better of my indignation, and I waited imsilence to hear what her proceeding was going to be. “ What I am about to say to you, Miss Browpron, is strictly confi- dential between us. That is distinctly understood ?” “T have no secrets from papa, Lapy Ossiay,” I answered; “and | do not suppose that you would advise a daughter to promise any con- cealments from her father.” I-know that | put this speech upon the least little stilts; but I did feel rather out of temper with Lapy Osstay, for hinting that 1 might not mind telling stories. “There is a discretion which dees not imply secrecy, exactly,” | returned Lapy Osstsan—but not quite so severely as before—“ and | rely upon yours. New, you inform me that your hand is free. A | member of my family*has authorised me’to make proposals for it.” | “JT am sure 1 am ‘very much homoured,” | said, hardly knowing | whether I ought to laughat this regal way of management. “That is a mere plsase of compliment,” said Lapy Osstan; “ but | not altogether untrue. ‘Ofcourse we areval! equal, in a certain sense, being all of us wreteked, wrworthy, miserable creatures, and crawling | worms; but the Osssan and Menrvyw families have two Dukes, and four Mar yuises, in collateral branches;anda direct, wnbroken pedigree of a thousand years. ‘Your father is—in worldly language, | mean— an exc :llentman ; bat |] believe his remotest ancestor was a bookseller in St. Paul’s' Churchyard.” “At a time when I se his contemporaries, the Ossians and Mervyns, were little qualified to make use of his wares,” | replied, quite pertly ; for who is going to have her ancestors insulted? I do —_ Lapy Ossian was rather pleased with me for striking a blow or them. ‘ A MUDDY MATINEE, = \ His 3 i) if y) UA Ay) / jaun' ly words head of % htt ALA We day cidedly the prevailin but, nevertheless, the whole ot the entertainments through with as will and energy as if been shining with all his might, instead of Aquarius with all his main sopped eques'rians. The “ Trojan UR friend, the gallant pro- privtor of the Hip- podrome, instead of idly lamenting the incessant “Con TINUED Ovexriows,” at the tisements, The other we a performance which rain was de- nuch “Very well, little girl,” she said, almost graciously, “only quite wrong, as Lapy Mexvyn may hereafter find out in her bhusband’s family history.” “Lapy Mervyw!” I repeated. “I did not know”—— “Tam speaking of yourself,” she said. “My nephew, Sra Frveat Meavyy, with whom you are well acquainted, proposes to confer that | tithe on you.” | The little British Grenadier had actually sent his aunt to make a declaration for him. I thought of him as he appeared on the Derby | Day, with his hat full of the spoils of the knock-em-downs ; and | could not help laughing at his joying an ambassadress to me. | “Sm Foveat,” I said, - never given me the slightest idea that I was to be so honoured.” “ Had he done so,” replied Lapy Osstawn, “any expectations he may entertain from my favour would have been at an end. Members of our family are not in the habit of what is called Courtship. But after your reply, you will receive all due attentions from Sim Fixcar Mervyn.” “Does your ladyship wish for that reply on the instant?” I asked with — composure. “It would, suibawe, appear more respectful if some aelay-—— LLapy Osstam glanced very keenly at me; bat [suppose she could not conceive the sibility of any answer but one bemg given; and sie begged that [| would communicate with her at myoown time. | wonder what she would have said if-she had known that, during her stately sentence, I could not help thinking that Lought to return to her the wooden lemon Six FasGan had given me at Epsom, She pressed my hand with a very flem grip, and dropped ‘the suject. And at this moment the great meeting burst into the loudest laughter, the oratoria! undertaker having made a most successful joke about the Pope’s Eye on a leg of Protestant mutton. Lapy Osstaw took ad- | vantage Of the renewed applause (led by the Howounapie Ma. | Caowsroot, who actually cried “ Bravo!”’) to leave the hall, She took me home, and | suppose I need not say more about the ‘answer papa wrote her that afternoon, than that it did not justify the British | Grenadier in hoping that Vaoter Brompton would ever sign berself | Viouut Menvyn. ON A VOTE. (Suggested by Rocers’s “ Lines on a Tear.’’) Ou! that the printer’s noble art Could stereotype this precious treasure ; At any place where I might start, 1’d register the Vote with pleasure. The little offering gently fell Into the band that wish’d to buy, From one who understood the sell Of incorruptibility. Sweet Vote! of either black or white— Just as the sun may chance to shine ; Now, clearly dim—now, darkly bright— Yesterday, his: to-morrow, mine ; showers, places the his adver- attended ix g element ; Benign exalter of the poll, Coming in time to bring relief ; Such Votes the election will control, Helping to make the contest brief. The purist’s and the briber’s theme, Who use thee war against thee wage ; Thou figurest in Coprock’s dream, were gone g000 the sun hac letting fly upon the youths ” smiled through the mud | kicked up into their faces by their “ Thessalian steeds,” aud the “ jockeys” | contended as eagerly as ever for the temporary possession of the property pasteboard-cup, notwithstanding the accumulation of a thorough poultice ot | good “ loamy soil” on the cheeks of one or two of them. ‘Though the ascent ot an “intrepid aéronaut” bad been announced, the weather might have been a | sufficient excuse for keeping him on /erra firma—we cannot say dry land—but Mz. Barry, with his usual eagerness to keep faith with the public, had made all the arrangements for doing so. Accordingly, there was a large, partially-inflated balloon, lying in soak in the centre | of the me and gradually—to the surprise of every one—assuming an appearance | of swelling out, as if it was anxious to give the public, in due time, full satis‘action. Great was our astonishment when we saw the attendants proceeding to affix the car, and the “intrepid aéronaut” skipped as lightly as he could through the mud, which, trodden as it had just been by the Roman steeds, was, to our classical minds, suggestive of the Pontine Marshes. The balloon, after showing an eccentric disposition to stand upon its head, to lie down on its side, and roll over on its own axis, was at length suffered to go, and ascended majestically into the air, serving as a convenient umbrella for the “intrepid,” who continued fluttering a flag in the cold damp air as long as he was visible. We sincerely trust that the week gone by is the last of that suceession of moist evenings, which have given terrible reality to Mr. Batrty’s boast of “Continued Overflows.” s And Biue Book’s soporific page. Metallic Metamorphose. “ Our City Correspondent ” states, we find, that— “Tn consequence of the Australian importations, gold has now become a perfect drug in the market.” We have often heard of the transmutation of metals, but surely this is rather an extraordinary instance of it. NO LOVE LOST. Ir seems very clear that, between the present Ministry aud the people there is very little love lost, but what little there is, we must do Loxp Dexusy the justice to say that not the smallest particle of it can be called “ Cupboard Love. Cosvixctsc.—To show how thoroughly he considers the newspapers his servants, Lovis NaroLeon has just been giving several of them “ warning.”

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVART Mla cinemas ice. fm , Mh > “elit i ee || I i ! “BOLTED!” NEW MODE OF ADDRESSING THE INDE- PENDENT ELECTORS. Mr. Puncn, desirous of promoting the cause of out-spoken honesty all over the country, begs to submit a Model Address, which he takes leave to say will be found to suit many a candidate. It will be seen that it is composed on a new principle. The new principle is a simple one ; it amounts to a simple out-pouring of the candidate’s heart, and to an entire candour of communication on his part with his enlightened constituency im futuro. It is supposed to be written by a young gentleman who proposes to support Lorp Dersy through “thick and thin ’”’—the “thick ” predominating in the upper regions. “ GENTLEMEN, “| beg to offer myself as a candidate for the representation of your city in Parliament. mean to go through the bore of what is called ‘ canvassing’ you at an early disagreeable for that kind of thing just now, but I suppose one must go through with it. Jones, our lawyer, I hope, will put things in train for me, so that I shan’t have more actual contact with your enlightened persons than I can help. I know it will be just a repetition of the same thing over and over again; and that I shall, perhaps, have to take a deal of bad sherry at the Drawlington Arms before the dreary business is over. “The honour [by Jove!] which I am soliciting has been frequently conferred on my family, and a pretty nuisance I dare say they found it. We have ietethanged offices of friendship with you for generations. We get what we require from your shops, and so on; we live a good many weeks of autumn and winter in your neighbourhood; we subscribe to your civic institutions; and, in fact, we always have your happiness at heart—do you understand that ? Your welfare is a dear object to us—which is the regular good old phrase. “My ayanee are well known to you; so my governor says, at all events. lam a strict supporter of the administration of Lornp Dersy. In fact, who the deuce e!se can I sup ? We have always been at daggers drawn with the Whigs ; and, by-the-bye, we have not forgotten, my fine fellows, how you threw us overboard after the Reform Bill, when you brought in a violent dog from somewhere near Smithfield, whose name had never been heard in the county. I say | support Lorp Dersry, for I suppose he and his people must be Conservative at heart, if anybody is. , | give you my honour, I don’t see at riod. The weather is confoundedly | this moment what he ’d do that the Russe. people would not. What they mean by the way in which they talk about Protection I really can’t understand. They’re going to do something for us, I suppose. | imagine they ’|l ¢ry something, at all events. And, of course, they won’t neglect their supporters—the fellows who go the whole hog in their cause at this crisis. “T am a stern supporter of the British Constitution, whatever that sublime abstraction may be, and a faithful son‘ of the Church of England, in which my two ycunger brothers have seven livings between them. The prosperity of I go in for that likewise. I don’t want the Malt ‘lax abolished, parti- | classes is a fine comfortable sentence, and | cularly, myself; but I shall support the measure, of course, if everybody | | makes such a row about it that Dery and Bey think it right to take | it off. 1 think extending the suffrage great humbug; but I will make | no opposition to it on class grounds—if, you know, affairs take such a turn that we must do it, or go out. I shall always be found at a —particularly if I get a lordship in the Treasury—and I will faithfully attend to your interests, for they are sure to send up to the Club if they want me particularly for a division. : “Not hoping to meet you, personally, for a little while, as I mean to | run over to Paris for a day or two, “T am, Gentlemen, “Your obedient Servant, “ Drawlington House. “Draw tey Draw .ineton.” In a State of Speechless Astonishment. We think our present Ministers have been rather harshly blamed for not speaking out more than they have done. The reason of their silence is obvious enough. The outcry against Protection has been | so tremendous from a ate of the country, that it has had the effect | of completely dumbfounding them. | POLITICAL NOTE AND QUERY. Nors.—The Napoteow colour is Violet. | Tue Query is—and one which Master Louis Napotzon would | find it rather difficult to answer—whether the Napo.eow oath is also kept tn-vtolet.

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a ——_ — | led iy ii TE Il . —_ HI Vind 5 ‘aes «ot ie A niin ml if : A Zz

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| who this year appear more red in face, more determined in attitudes, | rounder as to leg, more splendid in regard to red curtains, and more | massive in point of PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI 7 GOLDEN DREAMS. soMz minds, perhaps, the golden legends which consti- tute the news from Australia may be interesting; but it is| probable that the discovery of the precious metal at the An- tipodes will lead toa diminu-| tion of interest. Indeed, it is| to be apprehended that gold will cease to be precious in quality, and be precious only | in quantity, to such an extent that a number of sovereigns | will no lomger be capable of being considered tantamount | to so much tim, It will be necessary to make jewels the ~ media of exchange; amd then | Rector Campbell—S, Lawnence’s head of Hen we shall be sending for change for a diamond, which will be | given in emeralds and rubies. A metallic substitute for gold might be found in platinum, | which is scarce; the only ob-| jection to it is that the word | has no legitimate rhyme, and would be unsuited for the use of poets, or rather for their abuse: for most of them decry and vilify gold, although, like other people, they are glad to get as much of it as they can. ALE me eed “OUR CRITIC” AMONG THE PICTURES. SOMETHING ABOUT SOME PORTRAITS AND LANDSCAPES. | Wir your permission, dear reader, we will leave these interiors | with their bric-a-brac” draperies, and lay-figuree in silk velvet and | brocade, and these acres of stark staring portraiture. How oppres- sive they are, these portraits! It is hard to say whether the West- End or the East-End contributions are the most wearisome. One feels as tired of the eternal wishy-washy flood of dainty ladies, and | large-eyed languishing misses, and stalwart life-guardsmen, and serious statesmen, as of the awful outbreak of municipal and civie dignitaries, maces and inkstands, than I ever remember them ore. And yet flat, stale, and unprofitable as these huge portrait-canvasses are, they profess to represent men and women. But | don’t know how it is, there is something in the face of Bioce of Sroxe Poets which | cannot find in this gorgeous full-length of him, to be presented, as | learn from the catalogue, “ by his grateful fellow-townsmen,” in honour of his exertions in procuring for the town that valuable pump, which the artist would have done well to represent in the background, instead of that wild landscape, in the midst of which Bioce would be bored to| extinction, as he would certainly catch his death of cold through that | sashiess aperture at the baek of the vast apartment in which he is| standing. M‘Gitp, who is annoyed at the way I talk about the Exhibition | —— points out to me that this is an idealised portrait, and that LOGG bas just as much right to be idealised as Byron or Beetaoven whenever he becomes a subject for the artist. I quite admitit. But i respectfully contend that this is not the right sort of idealising treat- ment to submit our Buioces to. Idealising is not sticking a vulgar | likeness of the man, in his most vulgar aspect, into the midst of cir-| cumstances and accessories in no way appropriate to him. If the painter will catch me that in Bioge’s face, which makes him Buoce rather | than Stoce or Mocc—if he will give me the character of the man in| his features, as BLoee himself unconsciously does, even when he flatters himself he is most unlike the Bioge of every day—then he has given me the idea of BuocG—he has given me something which, though at no! single moment I may see it in Bioce’s face, is yet the impression| which the habitual contemplation of BLoce’s face (which | am doomed | to see much oftener than I like) leaves behind it. I cannot admit of any idealising of Buoee beyond this. If by idealising him M‘Grip means that the painter ought to make him more noble, less coarse, less evidently a rw hard-headed, rough-spoken, not over- scrupulous, but on the whole kindly-disposed and shrewd burgess and chief-magistrate of Stoke-Pogis, then I object to idealisation in I hope to show here: | painters go on re this sense altogether. It is the striving after idealisation of this fashion which ts vulgarity. And it is to the idealising painter of this kidney, mueh more than to the honest citizens his sitters, that we owe the irtense snobbishness of most portraits of this class. Whoever saw a Dutch Burgher Rempaanpt’s whom he could set down fora snob? And yet, his originals were not a bit more ideal beings than the Bioces of our own day. As to costume, they owe nothing to that in general. The dignity, impressiveness, truth, and force of these heads, is due to the painter ; and a portrait-painter, with the qualities of a RemBranpt, would find Burgomaster Sixes enough | in our own time, and under our common-place broadcloth. Everything that I have said of the gentlemen is true of the ladies, as after. But I have not time to dwell longer on | portraits just now, 1 would merely say, en passant, that | could have found examples in the present Exhibition, of the rules to be followed in this branch of the art, as of the faults to be avoided. Mr. Kwicur’s portrait of an old academy servant, Mr. Vaughan— Watson Gorpow’s honest and straightforward presentment of that |determined Scotehman, sitting, hat in hand, over Ma. Vauouan’s | head—Boxatt’s portraits, almost without an exception—W estcort’s Taylor—and W atts's |marvellous chalk drawing of Lord John Russeii—are noble works, in which the character of the sitter is given, to the exclusion of a!! that is idle, or inappropriate, or distracting, or vulgarly genteel, or snobbishly fine, or conv picturesque. But let me pass from portraits into the open air. cannot be dressed up in the velvets of ae Louse Quatorze time, or the brocades of Geonce tue Seconp! Landscape painters at least should be true, and unconventional: and yet, it is strange to see how almost every man of them will insist on putting nature into Ais livery. Infinite as her aspects are, from the pearly cool of early morning, through all the gradations of hot noon, limpid eventide, to the solemn twilight, when the gaunt trees stand up blackly against the clear horizon—wide as the range would seem to be, from the spring childhood of the year to its winter old age—vast as the accessible world bas grown in these days of railways and steam-boats—how we see each single artist contenting himself with his own little batch of effects, applied year after year in his own little corner of the world. Thy is it that to Ma. Livwecn, master as he is of his own scale of subjects and colours, the earth will be always marly gravel, the horizon clouds always cumulous? Does he look on the world through a pair of coloured spectacles, which invest all objects with unvarying hues, or have all his labour and love availed to give him a mastery only over one of the many millions of nature’s secrets ? So, why—whether it be a Norfolk mill, overlooking the wintry broad or a Highland loch, rippling under the white moon, or a twilight ro through a quiet village—why, in texture and in tone, is the face of Mr. Creswick’s out-of-door nature ever one and the same ? I go into the woods and fields, and I see a world—like a fair and ingenuous visage capable of all expressions—whose aspect varies with every smile or frown of the sky, every flaw of wind, every blink of sun or gloom of shadow—which passes with every passing hour, from one look to another, which reflects every mood of mind, and is by turns attuned to every key of sentiment. I walk into the Exhibition, and I see, year after year, the same subjects, painted by the same men, un- varying, bearing no impress of any feeling in particular, and answering to no mood of mind. Am I to conclude that painters’ skill, even the highest, is unequal to the understanding and reproducing of more than one of these fleeting passages of calm and storm, of beauty and awful- ness, of joy and ess, of love and wrath? Or is it that the painter Oh, nature, that | having acquired one of the many harmonies that are ever resounding in the visible world, keeps, for very love or laziness harping on the same string till the end of his painting days ? Whatever the cause may be, it seems to me that our landscape- ting themselves, and not improving in the repetition. Else, why is it that Highland lochs, and Highland hills, and Devonshire moors, and Devonshire lanes, and Devonshire ferries have become so stale, flat, and unprofitable in the bands of Mr. Lee? Is it that he paints them more feebly, or that we are sick of the | repetition? Or is it that he has fallen into the trick of it, and gives us no longer a sharp, clear, proof impression of the first taking off, but ., cloudy, ragged, and indistinct engraving from a worn-out old plate ? In short, of all the hundreds of landscapes here, there are few that have power to catch the eye and arrest it; still fewer that will repay close and careful examination. Of pictures, as of other things, it is often true that “You must love them—'ere to you They will seem worthy of your love.” But there are few of these landscapes that can beget the love which is indispensable to found a reason for itself. fact, there are three landscapes in the Exhibition this year: and they are Ma. Reponrave’s ¥ ma Mirror; Mu. Awtuony's Ferns and Beech-trees ; and the back-ground of Mn. Huwt’s Hireling Shepherd. I will leave you to meditate upon the list till next week. ee 2 ‘or me, in

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ie REGISTERED PRO- VISIONALLY. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVART. CAPITAL UNLIMITED. OR THE RUFFIAN’S PROVIDENT ASSOCIATION. DIRECTORS. (To be selected from Distinguished Names on Police Books.) | Standing Counsel—ORSON BLACKISWHITE, Ese., Old Bailey. Secretarp—TARQUIN BRUIN, Late of the House of Correction. [N the present age, when the philosophical and no less beneficent principles of Assurance are brought to bear upon almost every social | interest, it has long been a matter of silent regret that individuals | either destined by constitutional vivacity, or betrayed by unforeseen accident into the commission of Personal Assault, should not surround themselves with the Protective Influence of Association. Almost every other casualty is provided with pecuniary remedy; or, at least, pecuniary consolation. Your house is burned, and the Pheenix crows—claps his wings—and the house again becomes bran new from the ashes. Your ribs are broken on the railway; what then? You have previously dropped — twopence or fourpence, as prudence or purse may have admonished, and your ribs are paid for. k man insures his life, or limb—why not his temper? He may anticipate a remedy for having, we will say, his own nose smashed ; why not, then, a guarantee, if hastily betrayed to smash the nose of his neighbour ? he attentive reader of the Police Reports, must have been frequently ingemens with magisterial sentences on individuals convicted of assault. “ Being unable to pay the fine—(40s., or £5, as the injury dealt may be]—the prisoner was conveyed to prison in the police van.” Being, we trust, conscientious advocates of order; vivaciously alive to the importance of money as a standard of morals and feelings in this, our peculiarly commercial country, we—the Projectors of Kvery MaN uls own Brute, &c.—call the attention of the humbler classes of socie.y, and especially claim the consideration of Husbands addicted to the Personal Chastisement of Wives, to the principles of the above Association, whose object it is to guarantee every insurer—at the least possible scale of payment—from the inconvenience and the ignominy of incarceration—enabling him to pay the fine ; and thus, assaults being a matter of money, to be permitted the enjoyment of his ferocity of will, whether exercised upon his wife or his acighbour. But one example is worth a hundred assumptions. At once we take a case, decided lately at Worship Street. A man named Faeperick Lasorpe is charged, in the strong language of the reporter, with “a murderous attack upon his wife, and also with having violently assaulted a married woman, named Wood.” Mr. Lasorpe had previously given the wife of his bosom “a violent blow on the eye:” after which— “ He then caught up a ponderous wooden mallet, which he was in the habit of using in his trade, and brandishing it over his head, brought it down with al! h's force upon her nose, which caused the blood to gush down over her dress, and felled her to the floor.” The lodgers interfered, when Mr. Laporpe attacked them all indis- criminately, beating one, however, “unmercifully.” Well, the Magis- trate—understand, the Magistrate, can only dispense the law— “Me. Hamurce ordered the prisoner to pay a penalty of £5, or to be committed for two months to the House of Correction, for assaulting his wife; in addition to which he must pay a second fine of £5 for the other assault, or undergo a further term of two months’ imprisonment.” Ma. Lasorpe, not having the £5, was committed. Had he been a man of means, he might have broken his wife's nose, or the nose of any other woman at his pleasure, payimg for the enjoyment; but the poor fellow had not the money, when the relentless law consigned him to the discomfort of a gaol. F Now, it is here, where the agency of our Association—that of Every May His Own Barute—proposes to assert itself. Why, we ask, assault being a matter of miney—bruises, contusions, smashed noses, scattered teeth, being purchaseable—why should not the poor man be enabled to pay for them; why should he be sent to prison, sot for the assaulé—let that “ be borne in mind—but for not beimg able ¢o pay for the assault ! The law may change, but so long as the law permits a man to well- nigh murder his wife—to fell her with a mallet to the earth, as a butcher knocks down a bullock—so long does the poor ruffian, the indigent rascal, the penniless brute and coward suffer injustice; for he is punished zo¢ for what he does, but for being too poor to pay for what he does. For instance, is it not clear, that could Ma. FrepeRick Lazorpe have laid down the £5 for the work of his mallet upon his wife’s nose, he might by this time have had another £5 worth of mis- chief upon some other member of her person? Now this distinction rs with unjust severity upon the poor, who cannot afford to be ruffians. ‘Therefore the projectors of the above Association, made confident by the very nicest calcula’ions, are enabled, at a very trifling outlay, to insure the commission of brutality in every variety. y At about twopence a week, a man may insure himself for ten pounds’ | any | worth of assaults per annum. For only twopence a week, and | ruffian may smash his wife’s nose twice in ayear; or otherwise beat, and | ill-treat her, spreading two principal assaults over six or eight little ones. He gives his wife one or two black eyes. Heis fined 10s. Tue | Rurrtan’s Provipent Association lays down the money; and the | discharged and triumphant ruffian having, like an honest man, paid for the mischief, spotless as an ermine, leaves the Court. . | Further particulars will be duly announced. In the meanwhile, | prospectuses are to be had at every Police Office. Tarquin Brum, Sec. | |

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hod - PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. POPULAR PLAYHOURS. Wao thinks that it would be advisable that the National Gallery and British Museum should be of some benefit to the labouring classes, instead of doing no more for them than to attract them together, in close, uncomfortable, | unpleasant crowds, for two days, twice a year, at Easter | and Whitsuntide ? ; Who is of opnion that the health, comfort, minds, dispo- | sitions, communications, of those same classes, would be | improved by a better acquaintance with green fields, or | good authors, or melody and harmony, or any of those liberal arts and sciences, whose study, as the poet says in the Latin Grammar, softens the manners, and does not | suffer them to be brutal ? Who would wish artisans and mechanics to enjoy the advantages of the Crystal Palace, when it shall have been transferred to Sydenham ? Who believes it would be well to provide with recrea- | tion, by day, those who, for want of it, are apt to rush into | dissipation at night ? ho, not wanting to coop the people up in cities by a| Sunday bill, is yet desirous to give them an opportunity | for a pleasure trip in the week, to the abatement of Sabba- | tical railway trains, cabs, omnibusses, steam-boats, teaand shrimps, half-and-half, gin, pipes, and skittles ? | Who is aware, and considers, that reasonable relaxation causes work to be done more cheerfully, zealously, and | thoroughly ? If any, let him use his potentialities, influence, voiee, | and pen, to induce employers to arrange their busmessim | such : sort, as to give the employed a half holiday onee| a week. form—just A Mostcat Treat.—Living next door to a pianofortemaker, | one whe takes:his fellow wite-has been so liberally imvited is WHAT IS AN ENGAGEMENT ? | He Irish prima donne | has also broken her en- | gagement. A new de- | finition of the word engagement is sadly wanted to suit the | Vocalists’ books, We | will not say it is like piecrust, or a boy's drum, or a young lady’s heart, only made to broken, but we will de- fine it simply, thus :— “AN asemee is like a general invita- tion—given very freely, but with the full un- derstanding that it is never meant to be kep*. Such engagements, like elopements, are only | runaway engagements. | ‘Come and sing,’ is about synonymous with ‘OC and see me any day, | shall be happy to see you.” The singer is no more ex d to sing, than the foolish 4 tocall upon you. It’s only a as putting your name to a bill is ‘ only » form’—and a form which any standiupon it issure to have to pay for the breaking of it.” OS SEP RRS SRT PY ROR RS —————— ES = = OUR OPERA BOX W E have somewhat negleeted our Opera going this year; but the faet is, that the im terest of JS Seeing Jimasy Liwp, hag: come to town, of doi really gragefal by retrieving = wb wn of Moran td y e fortunes of an es! - nent Gee her Seeeons deservedly realised, STREET PERFORMERS AND “ CRUSHERS.” Tosmemen adhegiite of tumblers, jugglers, and gymnastic per- form to exhibit their tricks and feats of strength and from Her Mavzeerr’s Theatre and Co- i the Court of Ey a S a Chancery. We oe have been told y that Wacyer is| & great singer | when before the | pais but she! has certainly had | to sing very small | indeed before the judges in Equity. Perhaps she ers, agility in the public thoroughfares, waited upon Mr. Punch at his official residence in Fleet Street, to express the alarm and apprehension in | vent Gard | regard to the liberties of the subject, created in their minds by the vent Garden to | recent P | from wearing the costumes of their resi ion prohibiting Romish monks and other ecclesiastics ive orders, displaying their symbols, and celebrating their rites ceremonies, in the streets. The deputation was headed by Sievor SuitueRcyi and Proresson Morais and it having been informally introduced to Mr. Punch by the official OY Prorgssorn Morais said he Mr. Punch’ s , and hoped he’d excuse him for having taken the liberty of troublin of him to ax him the question whether that there Proclamation agin the papish monks and friars was anyways liable to interfere with that respectable interest as he had the honour to represent ? was afeard it would. Stop one sort of show in the streets, and why not stop another? Say would have appeared to more advantage without her father’s base | \lack gowns ain’t to be wore there, and it may as weil be _ you accompaniment, and she has hardly had a fair trial in the poor con- | Shan’t wear spangled frocks neither. It was a dangerous princip been turned into a disconcerted piece by the | binder anybody from dressing certed piece, whieh has decisions of the View and the Lory Cuancettor. It is a remarkable fact that an insigmifieant cause can produce a serious effect, as we have seen in the instance of the or JoHaNNAH, who has done more mischief" by deimg nothing, than she would in al! probability have done good, if she had faithfully kept to her engagement. “ There's not a charm the world can give Like that it takes away,’ says the poet, and there is certainly not a house a prima donna can bring like those she k sets the town on the gui vive, and then abstains from fulfilling her agreement. The “fair deceiver” has injured the season at both establishments, when she might have made the fortune of one without ruining the other. But as it is— ‘ Lruuey and Gre were fighting for the town, When up jumps Jonanwan, and knocks them both down. There is, however, plenty of attraction at both houses, if the public would only get out of their heads that Wacwex affair which has caused a sort of singing in their ears, to confound but not to gratify their senses. eeps away, when she enters into a contract which | e to according to his fancy. To be sure he | didn’t eut sich a fi asthe papishes. He wasn’t so likely to frighten the horses. [The Proressor was attired in tight fleshings and white buskins, with a blue fillet round his head.) He hoped he was not quite | sich a object as them Romanish Guys. ; | Mr. Punch said the Paoresson’s costume was more like that of the | ancient Greeks than that of the modern Romans. | The Paoressor did not know much about that. Speakin of them | Roman-eandiestick priests, people said sich mountebanks ought to be | put down, and it was this talk about puttin down mountebanks as made | him uncomfortable. Mr. Punch said that such anxiety on the Proresson’s part was natural, but that he (Pxorzsson Morais) might make himself tolerably easy. The Proelamation—which, by the way, he could not help some- what ae to have been advised by Ministers with electioneering views— satel ate one class of mountebanks. As long as the Proresson and his order abstained from constituting themselves a | puisanee, by ppprteening in fashionable or crowded streets, obtruding themselves notice where they gave offence, collecting a mob, or |acting any foolery calculated to provoke a breach of the peace, they would, doubtless, be free to vault, tumble, danee, stand on their heads,

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10 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI They had only one objectionable point in common with the Oratorians and Passionists—a slight cy to squalor, easily to be corrected by occasional recourse to soap and water. He (Mr. Punch) Id nevertheless think it might be well for them to keep out of thejway of their black friends, lest such company should attract the attention of the police. nox" S Sicwon Smirwemini stated that his performances, as Lilusionist and Wizard, were sometimes accompanied by cymbals, which he understood was forbid in the Proclamation; was that true? Mr. Punch explained the difference between the musical instruments alluded to by the Sicwor, and the prohibited symbols. The Sicon’s vocation was in small jeopardy. Though the parties aimed at in the Proclamation were famous for their illusions, they could not properly be termed conjurors. He (Mr. Punch) perhaps, however, might recommend Siexor SaitHeRun to call himself, in plain English, Ma. Suirners. Sicwon was a foreign title, and might suggest that the bearer of it was a Jesuit in disguise. This would be unlikely; and probably Ma. Smiruens might repair to Court—or Alley— without getting himself into any serious scrape, although he should put on his most remarkable Wizard’s dress, and annoftnce himself as not only Sicwor, but Monsionore. The deputation then withdrew, followed by the boy, and a number of other boys. ' interest of a Foreign Power. | Policeman, “ Now tuex, you Must Go away FRoM Here; on ELSE ——” | British Mountebank. “Borner toem Foreicnexs! To co Brincinc THE Peelers LowN Jus? | AS WE WAS DOING sicH Goop Busingss!” RELIGION FOR THE HIGHER CIRCLES. | Aw advertisement in the 7imes apprises us of the fact that there is a society established, having for its excessively genteel purpose, the conversion of the higher circles. An article has been prepared by a tract society, which is strongly recommended for fashionable use; and which, of course, is not | intended for the mere vulgar votaries of Christianity. We have not met with any of the publications in question, our office being possibly too far east for the elegant efforts of the religious exquisites, whose labours are no doubt bounded on the east by Pall Mall, on the south by Spring Gardens, on the | north by Grosvenor Square, and on the west by the limits of Belgravia. We always had an idea that religion knew no distinction of ranks; we know that Christianity repudiates anything like class divisions among its own followers, as far as religion is concerned; but | there appears to be a fashionable sect which, refusing to hear of pious parvenus, looks upon “ elect” | and “select” as synonymous. We shall not be surprised at any affectation or absurdity in the much | abused name of religion after this, nor should we be astonished at finding announcements of a Thé évangélique, or a soirée sérieuse, or a devotional dinner-party among the “ fashionable arrange- | ments,” and “further arrangements” of our JENKINSONIAN Contemporaries. Of all the cant to which the fashionable affectation of “seriousness” has given rise, we know of none | more offensive than that which professes to prepare a religion expressly for the use of the “higher | circles” and those frequenting places of “fashionable resort.” e suppose religion—of this kind— | will be expected to leave town for some “fashionable watering-place” at the ordinary period, and | must by no means be seen in London when the season is over. We shall be having a monthly publi- | cation of the Modes Réligieuses, or Pious Fashions, in which we may expect the revival of the Bishop’s roe ask and for those who are fond of wearing something religious, as a cloak, the restoration of the ar . Seniie Acurengss.—An old gentleman hearing his youthful nephew, a little boy who is versed in | geology, talking about the “ Earth’s crust,” inquired whether he was speaking of the outside of a dirt-pie ? e each other’s shoulders, without much molestation. They did not go about masquerading in the| | | JUST THE TERM FOR IT. | Tax French do not take an oath, | they ow Int pe Se S| |“ préler serment.” jend then eee Se peen 5 Sane, the loan, he calls for it back again. is still t “lent” it, for him to « i ret thi pe fy pos for 0! things are lent, is ever seen or heard of it afterwards. It is as good as lost. This has been the fate of all oaths in France, its various eras of monarchy, licanism, rer and pro — 5 i Se oe : 5 “lent” to Louis Naportzeow. It would not be a bad sign for him to write over the door the i pawnshop, which he has the plan of his Uncle: “ Oatus | Luwt.” in sufficient numbers to proceed wi business, on some recent occasions. In drawing an indictment against the Members, one of the principal counts would be—the Count-out. Nt ie eine ““ ) MALMESBURY’S NEW POLICEMAN. | Apvice to “our own CorRz- sponpsnt.” — Tell the truth, and shame the—PresipentT. A Grams tHe PRorTEecTIONIsT FARMER IS DREADFULLY In Want or.—A Grain of Sense. “ Frexca Patience ”—Lovis Na- POLEON waiting for the Empire. 1 Printed by William Bradbury, of No. 13, Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, and Frederick Mullett Evans, of No.7, Charen Row, Stoke Newington, both im the County of Middlesex, Printers, at their Office in Lombard Street, in the Precinct of Whitefriars, in the City of Londen, and Published by them at No. % Fleet Street,in the Parish of St. Bride's im the City of Londem.—Satuapar, June 2th, 1862.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. ll

THE GIN PALACE, OR THE CRYSTAL PALACE ON SUNDAY? A PROSE CANTICLE. OST certainly, the mode of spending the toby for inhabitants of towns, ex- cept those who keep carriages and can be driven into the country by their own servants, attending divine service by the way, with their coach- man and footmen waiting for them outside, is to go to church three times a day, and occupy the intervals in reading sermons strictly or- thodox, or perhaps devoting ar. hour or so to a very slow walk through the streets. But as there are unfortunately multitudes who will not even go to church, yet who will somewhere, i is it not much Fetter that they should pass their time at the public-house than at such a place as the Crystal Palace ? hose who might resort to the public-house would drink gin and beer ; not unwholesome in but they that should visit the Crystal Palace or the British Museum—were it open on Sundays—would imbibe the poison of secular knowledge unqualified by theological opinion. Excess in gin and beer—nay, even in Port wine—will make a man drunk: no doubt drunkenness is asin: but when it is caused by alcohol and malt liquor, and particularly when it results from a mixture of both, it is pretty sure to be followed by repentance the next woridin’t or at least by a headache calculated to teach the sufferer the hollowness of But "the evation produced by contemplating the works of nature and art, is succeeded by no salutary depression ; on the contrary, the amusement of the day so spent is y felt to bear the morrow’s reflection, and thus begets a soul-destroying complacency, instead of the wholesome conviction - being a miserable sinner. And then the man who contributes to the Excise, and his transgression tends to increase “Siniry might ion I place, at the —— - < ne Government, i, . = y to improvement of bishops’ palaces. mere by the sublime and beautiful, does not conduce to the enrichment of the State or the Church, by one halfpenny: Any attraction likely to draw town’s-people into the country on Sundays is objectionable. In the sunshine, beneath the blue vault of heaven, amid green fields and sweet flowe oe ne bees, silver brooks, corrupt human nature is apt to forget i | and mistake world for a ise. Now, those who are obliged to remain in cities = ——— cease all forcibly impressing them with a sense of their misery sewers and on in their paths—emblems of depravity—exhale a moral ot a a and teach the heart a lesson through the nose. From crowded churehyards | (9, onal | the fact of death is brought home to them in the very air they breathe and the water they | drink—if they can drink such water: truth, pentinting, but salutary, if not wholesome truth, | lies at the bottom of all the adjacent wells. ll accords with the reek of the intramural graveyard; the one corroborates the 7 . tell the same story, incense of the flowers contradicts the knell. hy rural influences go altogether to inspire affections and hopes just —-, to the p + _—_ the becoming despondency, the consciousness of in a vale of tears, in y of the Shadow of th; the mournful and melancholy | mind —_ when it Ae not quite amount to despair ‘and insanity, may be described | riousness. At least, if “the — Palace is not to be closed on the Sabbath, ~ and brewers ought to be compensated for the aa of business which they will sustain ; , and if compensation is allowed them, p as Se gate & Be Com: as the seduction | will — equally with the pothouse. It is likely to affect the Church in a

manner. yh om are in cities numbers of persons, who, im dentes ase nenek domed me not to be quite so sure as they yg of the benevolence, justice, and wisdom, presiding over the universe. It is the business of clergy to convince and persuade them of the truths they cannot very pao them. The priesthood have a vested interest in their doubts. ace—like the British Museum—will contain — of creation, demon- grand fundamentals which a preacher can only argue. will, in effect, “3 there te charch; and who knows but that some heterodox ee might even woven ve ——, in the 2 of the Bridgewater treatises, actually celebrated in a would certainly afford the strongest evidences of the ae in volumes ? The Gin Palace, then, rather than the Crystal Palace for the people on a Sunday ! well see in the thi But the y amp Palac re Sos

“CHILDREN MUST BE PAID FOR.” Sweet is the sound of infant voice ; Young innocence is full of charms : There ’s not a pleasure half so choice, Bebyheod ts blaeed ae isa RL py ssly made for ; But ail, om arth nour fe, That even ‘ ‘Children must be paid for.” If i bs an epee we sieht : teous t to When fuil the vehicle inside ‘a Age taking childhood on f on its knee.’ But in the dog-days’ scorching heat, When a slight breath of air is pray’d for, Half suffocated in our seat, We feel that “ Children must be paid for.” There is about the sports of youth A charm that reaches eve ee ope are es ¢ truth, no ive’ s But if we ae sudden crash, . No explanation need be stay’ d for, We know there ’s gone to smash ; We feel that “ Children must be paid for.” How exquisite the infant’ Ww ny lan i : tine tae ie knee, chair. ay more} Children must be paid for.” nm board, With many fae laughing ound melancholy While mirth and jollity Tent, We see our table amply spread With knives and forks a dozen |aid for ; Then pause to think :— “ How are they fed?” Yes’ children must indeed be paid for 1”

“STILL HE GOES UP, UP, UP.” Tue last ascent but six of the “ Veteran Gaezw” has been advertised. He is taking his | “ farewell of the air” in a round of his favourite | balloons, which will embrace the “ Great Nassau” and other popular aerial conveyances. We sup- when the veteran finally retires from the air | e will feel somewhat out of his element ; but we | have no S tagellee eae ome am er 80) ing more substant ~~ - —— y the remainder of his ex- | istence. It seems t he has made no less than | five hundred ascents, so that he has been con- | tinually rising in the ‘world, but has never been | puffed up, nor ailowed himself to be inflated by the circumstances that have surrounded him. There is no doubt that he will go down to pos- | terity in a balloon, if he ever makes that sort of | descent, which is so much desired by all can- | ‘didates for popular favour.

A gouges Wanted. uent Irishman—quoted in the Iris | An el h | Times—says, in reference to R | f | | news of ressed a little too strongly by the perception | set’s Dunnam Letter, and Dexsy’s Anti-Pro- cession Proclamation,—“ Out goes the scorpi Russe11 ; in comes 1¢ double scorpion Bano. for the necessities of Jrish VEE, scorpion is wanted, and ma something to its advantage in Dubli Wanted a scorpion with three tails ' No Locus Sraypi1.—The man who visite the | low Betting offices must indeed have lost all standing in society since he betakes himself to the worst of all legs.

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| from his conversation; and to

}

THE PASSIONIST YOUTH’S COMPLAINT. H! What ashame! They won't let us play; They ’ve taken our game Of Ringing away : They say that we make So stunning a noise, The neighbours’ heads ache Along of us boys. De Hewp’s peal they’ve stopp’d, the din; To ~—- he’s hopp’d, aw costs let in. Unless some one shells The requisite out, That Sourav those bells Will sell up, no doubt. They won’t let us wear Our cloaks and our sandals, Because they declare It gives rise to scandals : And then they prohibit Displays in the streets ; We mustn’t exhibit Our tapers and sheets. In stole and in cope We can’t go about ; But those “ Bands of Hope” May halloo and shout : Of Guy Fawkes they grant The auto-dafé, But say that we shan’t Have likewise our way. Have you, as you tell us, A free Constitution, Inflicting on fellows All this persecution ? Are we to be done — Because you love quiet— Thus out of our fun, For fear of a riot ? MISS VIOLET AND HER “ OFFERS.”

CHAPTER XI. Iv ever anybody had no right to make an offer to another person, that was the position of Mr. Verpierts, the et as regarded me. For I always liked him, and derived a great deal of instruction add to his ingratitude, I may mention that it was entirely owing to my cutting out an advertisement, and enclosing it to papa, that the latter bought a little cabinet of coins of the Lower Empire, and presented it to Mr. Verpreris on his fiftieth birthday, And then bis dear old sister, Virty Verpicris, had become fonder of me than of any body in the world, except of her brother, and we were going on so seu, till it occurred to him to alter our positions. I cannot think what put such nonsense into his head. I ~ about as much expectation of a proposal from his statue of -HOCION, He lives at Brighton, and while we were staying there we used to go to his house a good deal. Whenever he got a new old coin, or relic of any kind, he always sent Virty round to invite me to come and see it, PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL

to the very crown upon the least excitement. And he always wears a long frock coat, buttoned up to the chin, where it meets a white cravat. I suppose that he has plenty of money, for he is always buying ‘curiosities, and giving away charity, for he is one of the kindest-hearted creatures in the world. Mr. Verpicoets had been roarmneng is collection, and sent Virty | to fetch me to see it in its new order. work had occupied him for }some days, and he had obstinately repulsed all his sister’s offers of | assistance. “ My dear,” she said, “while he was gone for a walk, I | stack more of his coins and medals into those little holes than he had done in two days; but when he came in he burst out laughing, and turned all my work out, saying that [ had introdueed Kise Herop to ja Iynocent Pore, and there would be another massacre like that of Bartuotomew Fair.” When I arrived, Mr. Verpicris himself did |the honours in a much more learned way, and begged me to accompany |him all round his little gallery, and see that he had put a ing linto chronological order—from Youse¢ Mzmwow to Lovis Napo- | LEON. Poor Virty followed us, and kept up a gentle fire of notes | upon the antiquary’s text. Of course, I do not to remember a millionth part of what I was told, especially as laughing with Virty linterrupted my attention sadly. When her brother was shewing me the Roman As, she ventured to suggest that the Roman must have been one for giving such a name toa piece of money, but she supposed an ass was coined for small bets, just as we say a poney for larger ones. And among some ancient curiosities was a relic to baving been used in making a philter, and this excited Viatr’s great contempt, as she could not at all see how the water was to be passed through it. And she really made a sort of joke over a brass mirror, declaring that from all she had heard of the Roman ladies such a looking-glass must have reflected them very faithfully. The dreadful faces she made when her brother was describing the Roman ice of bringing live mullet to table, that they might die upon the of the epicures, were wonderful ; but his mention that offending slaves were thrown into the lamprey pond elicited a delightful piece of history from her. “ Ah!” she said, “that’s like what I read in Hume’s history many years ago, about one of our kings, who was killed by lampreys, because, it says, they did not agree with the Constitution. I forget which king it was, StepHen I think, but the moral is the same.” “In that case, Henry tae Fisast will do, Vimtus dear!” said Mr. Vexpieris quietly. “| dare say that was the man,” answered Virty. “To be sure it couldn’t be Sreruen, for he was stoned. I have seen the picture of it in that church in Walbrook that went into Chancery with the Lozp Mayor, and got dilapidated,” “They teach young ladies better now than they did in your time, my dear old Visty,” said Mra. Verpierts. “ Here is Miss Vio.Let BromPtow could tell you the names, dates, and characters of every one of the sovereigns of Europe, from CuaRLEMAGNE’s time, “Indeed, you must give me credit for nothing of the kind,” I said, “but I think if | were to study your collection of coins often, I might be much better informed. They are the best helps to memory I can imagine.” To my surprise, as I said this, the face and head of Mr. Venpicris flushed up into a uniform crimson. He looked at his sister with an odd sort of smile, and said, “ VIRTUE.” “Stacey,” she answered, with an equally significant look. “ Shall I say it,” he asked in quite a flutter, “7 should, Stacey,” replied Mrs. Virty. He turned to me, and his redness, which had slightly toned down, took a new and more glowing tint as he did so. I could nut conceive what was the matter. He kept on smiling im a kindly, but an uncom- | fortable way, fidgetted with his hands, and even began to scratch with | his long nails on the glass of one of the medal cases. Bs You would like,” he stammered out, “to study these things very often ?” “ Under your direction,” I said, “and in their proper order here, I

think it would be very pleasant.” Now, I said this because it flashed and the dear old creature, who knew nothing whatever about any-|across my mind that he might perhaps be thinking of spoiling his thing except making everybod strangest messages. One day she was particulariy anxious for me to/| have let him do. comfortable, invariably brought the! collection for the sake of making me a present, and this I would not But my answer was the most unfortunate one I come, because Stacey—that is to say Kustace—had just received some | could have made. Wooden Halfpence made by Dean Swirt the Draper, and another | ; ‘ time I was to go and see a piece of a bonnet dug up at Flodden,| her with a face beaming with pleasure. “ peers as dear Virty said, what part of a bonnet a round bit of gold | encouragement. could be, she could not guess. Stacey happy in showing his collection, as if she could have called over all the Casars as accurately as the CHANCELLOR OF THE ExcHEQUER, who tells us in his life of poor Lory Grorce Bettine-BooKk that the | affectation and coquetry—you have known me a most solemn event in the history of Christianity took place in the reign of | loves you ve AvGustvs. ingly long white fingers, and nails which might easily be cut into pens. | Mr. Verpieuis is a delicate-looking person, with exceed-| and, with it, its owner? ” “ Here, and under my direction, Vrrty,” he repeated, looking at There could not be better That study you might undertake at all times you But she was just as pleased to see | pleased, Miss Brompton,” he said, earnestly and respectfully. “I am not a man of many words, and indeed I feel my deficiency, painfully, when I wish to say what I would say now—but—you—you are above time, and Vinty that you see here, I never said I was a heroine, and if I had, everybody would have much. Will you—will you accept He is very small, and pale, and mild, and nearly bald, having only a| found me out long ago. But, supposing I had asserted the slightest thin fringe of grey hair round the centre of his head, which flushes up| pretensions to heroineship, they would all have been crushed for ever

EB <s = |\

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vhen I came to this passage in my history. I looked at him for a coment to be quite sure I understood him, and then I looked at Virty, and saw in her dear old face such a mixture of pleasure and janxiety that—there is no use in pretending that I did not—I began cry. I am not skilful at analysing my sensations, but here was a good kind, learned, gentlemanly man, whom | both respected and liked, and who had suddenly placed me in a position from which there was no escaping without giving him pain. The situation was simple enough, and perhaps I was simple enough for crying over it, but I did cry, and there is the truth. He looked very much distressed, and Viaty came up to me and took my hand. But 1 struggled for self-command, for [ would not leave these kind creatures in a moment’s doubt, and self- | command came. “ Dear Ma. Verprerts,” I said, but not at all steadily, “ pray forget | what you have said. You do me very great honour in thinking me worthy of such a thing, and I do assure you I am very grateful to you. But our ages are so different—I am quite a child, and you know I know your birthday,”—and I tried to smile, and pointed to the silver plate on the cabinet we had given him—“and altogether it is quite impossible. But do take my hands, and say you will not be angry with | me, and will go on giving me instruction.” For I could not bear to think of quarrelling with him. | He looked at me very steadily for a minute or so, and then he said, | quietly, and almost sadly— | “Yes. There are thirty years between us, and they ought to have | taught me to know myself better; they Aave taught me how to value you, or I should not have said what you have heard. Forget it; if I | remember it, you shall never see that [do. We will always be friends— | you and I, and Virty ”—and he took a hand of each ; “ and—and—will | you come to see me to-morrow, and we wil] go through the Emperors— 1 have very good coins of the Emperors.” And pressing our hands, he walked quickly out of the room. “You spoke quite right, dear,” said Mrs. Virry, very kindly, and wiping her eyes; for she, it seems, had followed my wise example. “ And that’s the last word youll ever hear about it, if you come here, as | hope you will, a thousand times. And Stacey must keep to his Roman asses, and his rows of nobles, and his pieces of bonnets, and his Johnny groats, and all the rest of his tattermedallions.” NURSERY RHYMES FOR THE DIGGINGS. Arr—“ Hush-a-by Baby.” Rock away, Cradle, at the pit top, When the stream flows the cradle must rock : When the gold fails the digging ’s a bore, And away go the diggers to look for some more. Arm—* Sing a Song of Sixpence.” Sing a Song of Sixpence, a pocket full of gold, In four-and-twenty hours you’ve a fortune there I’m told: When you ’ve stayed a fortnight you’re rich as any king, Isn’t that to contemplate a very pleasant thing ? The Youngest Member in the House. A Lapy declares that if Mz. Aystey were to remain in the House of Commons all his life, he would still be the youngest member in it ; “for it is perfectly clear,” she says, alluding to his accustomed habit | of counting out the House, “that so long as he retains the faculty of | speech, he will never be able to reach forty.” TAPPING A BEER BARREL FOR THE TRUTH. Ma. Peprsr has been lecturing at the Polytechnic upon the qualities of the different beers of Atisorr, Bass, and Sar. It strikes us as | being a curious way of proving that these beers are not adulterated | when we actually have before us the admission that both Perrer and Sat are mixed up largely in their composition. Corn Measure. We don’t know what measure Messas. Dexsy and Disragit may have in store for the next Parliament, but if it is to touch upon Corn, no measure short of Free Trade, we can tell them, wil! suit the people. | In fact we think we may give the ministry the following plain bit of advice : “Tus Bo PeorLze WILL BOf HAVE Tugin ConN MEASURED BY ANY ProrzctionistT SHEL.” Tue Heicut or Smerticrry has been variously defined, but we think it ~~ now be know as—Going to a Betting Office, with the moral certainty of being “ in. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. SABBATARIAN TIT FOR TAT. OW zealous some folks are for the souls of their fellow crea- tures! The folks particularly alluded to in this remark are great people: the ARCHBISHOP or CanTersury, the Bisnors or Lowpon and Wincusster, the Kart or Hannowsy, the Eart or Swarressury, and several gentlemen, “ too tedious to mention.” Is it not written in the Zimes newspaper how they, having formed themselves into a deputation, “ waited on the Rigut HonournasLe THE Ean or Derpy at his official residence at Downing Street, at 2 o’clock, in order to urge upon his lordship the expediency of adopting measures to prevent the Crystal Palace or its grounds being opened to the public on Sundays?” What condescending solicitude on the part of peers and prelates for the spiritual welfare of vulgar |cockneys, snips, snobs, mechanics, shopmen, and their womankind : creatures that not only consume tea and shrimps, periwinkles, and | ginger-beer, but also smoke pipes and penny Pickwicks. The people must feel flattered that they are thus sympathised with by the superior classes ; only perhaps they would rather the sympathy were shown | somehow 0 ise than by excluding them from pure air and enjoyment —in great tenderness for their immortal part, but with small conside- ration for their perishable lungs. be’ Not to be ungrateful, however, let us, the million, the rabble, the pulace, get up a deputation of our own, and wait on Lop Dunsy at Soe Street, in order to urge upon his lordship the expediency of | adopting some measures to prevent, as far as possible, bishops’ palaces, |and the nobility’s mansions, parks, and grounds, from being open to themselves on a Sunday. In this way we shall return the sanctifying obligation to keep tne Sabbath miserably. There will yet, however, remain six days of amusement for them; so that we shail still but imperfectly repay their kindness in proposing to debar us from our recreation on the only day when we have time for it. On this pious and grateful errand then, let us go to the Ear. or Dersy, in our Sunday’s best, and wearing patent Sunday faces, with our eyes turned up, and the corners of our mouths turned down—and | our tongues in our cheeks. THE OLDEST ESTABLISHED PROPHET. We have been told—but we hope it is not true—that Mra. Grz intends to put in the Zra, Sunday Times, and all the Sunday sporti papers, the following advertisement, which we think highly absurd an perfectly unnecessary :— . i T= ONLY ORIGINAL “ PROPHETE”™ is MARIO, and no mis- take! His address is, as usual, the Royal Italian Opera House, where he will always be happy to see his friends, with the tip in their hands. Due notice will be given of the Adte’s next appearance. In the meantime his “ Huguenot” Draw (price only 7s. 6d.) is the best of the season. Three cheers, boys, for Manto, the oldest established and first and best and only Original Prophéte, who snaps his fingers at vulgar competition ! Recollections of the Latin Grammar. A Country Gentleman, writing to the Directors of one of the Railways about the bad management of their line, and more especially |about the lights having been removed from the carriages, condensed | his indignation at the conclusion into the following fulminating line :— “ Horrendum, informe, Engines, cui lumen ademptum.” NEW READING OF THE CELEBRATED WAGNER SAYLNG. (Adapted to the Pockets of St. Albans, Ipawich, and others.) “ Aw Eleetion is only to be valued for the sake of its money.” IMPORTANT TO AUTHORS, | Tae Act for the Enfranchisement for Copyholds, is—the Loup | CHANCELLOR having thought better of i through the House | ‘of Lords. This measure will prevent litigation; but perhaos it will | as settle the question whether a dramatic translation is a Freehold or !a Copyhold.

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| than fifty i limitation which would certainly | apply to the " PUNCH, OR THE LOND A DUEL IN WESTMIN- } himself into an action at law. The ordinary practice of duel- ling involved very little sacrifice, for the sake of honour; but he who goes into Westminster Hall for the vindication of his cha- racter, shews that he considers it worth that costliest kind of a and shot which can only met with in the tremendous charges of the great guns of the na profession. fe trust that all “ affairs,” 0 N CHARIVARL | WHO'D BE A SHERIFF? E week at some charity sermon in oo ae where a tremendous subscription is ex- pected. No wonder that the : rf Hl days, ing to estimate things by what they are to to pay very extravagantly for even the most y Ww which cannot otherwise arranged, will henceforth come off in the Courts of Law; and we are already requested to state, on the part of Mr. Bater- Less, that he is rs ed to have any amount of “honour” placed in his hands. The only hostile meetings will take place before the judges; and the County Courts will, of course, have jurisdiction over all characters worth less OYSTERS IN large majority of duellists. When Wag meets Wag! The Morning Herald tries a joke upon the Observer / The Herald says the Tagus steam-ship has arrived with a freight of dates : and hence the cruel wit advises the Observer “to institute a strict search into this of the ; he may thus probably discover the date of the forthcoming dissolution of parlianent.” There, now! After this we may expect “ Jokes by Two Mutes at a Funeral!” JUNE—DELICIOUS ! “Now, my Littrz Man—Here’s your Fore Natives ! Ow ty ‘A Penny a Lor!’” Lirrie Boy was A Pewxy’orTHu. Alarming Result ! A VOICE FROM RIMINI. “My Dear Poncn, “ WHATEVER may be the merits of ACHILLI ». Newmay, as between plaintiff and defen- | dant, I wish Jouw Hewny had let Giovayst GiactyTo alone, | stantly exclaimed, ‘ Here is a precious system for you ; i or- = i ; here are fine fruits o your Confessional: here, see what manner of scoun- drels you are liable to have for your spiritual directors!’ “ Supposing those accusations fi then the Fro- testant oy will naturally be: ‘These are the brave works of Popery iracy, | Of perjury, to blast the character of an innocent man. “Save me from my friends! For, take the case how you will, it tells fearfully against your humble servant, “Tae Wixxixe Picture.” “ Rimini, June 25, 1852." WHAT IS “GAMMON ?” We earnestly put this simple question to Mr. Levy, who has expended much Hebraic eloquence against the future Crystal Palace at Sydenham—(a Palace that, on the lst of May, 1853, will reveal itself in thousandfold glory, for Paxton, and Fox Henperson, and Owen Jones have promised it)—we ask of Levy, who seems to be an authority —what is gammon ? = Latne spoke as to the independent election of future directors; whereupon— “Mr. Levy said, that was what he called gammon /” qallaon. Waa: tae, nah he tania Bh gueeen | 8 cance. t in all i is on e believe that gammon is the very choicest bit of cured hog’s flesh, vulgarly known as bacon ; but such, of course. is not Mz. Lzvy’s gammon. Is SistnoRP gammon, or any part of gammon? We think so ; for i. kage, in — speech on the high, refining as ot the rys alace, there were, among its objectors, a “ Sibthorpian class ;” for the gallant and hirsute Colonel (Member for Thistles, al thistles return a Member)— | did not like at all, they objected to the proposed plan.” a larger, a more comprehensive | . STER HALL. P | Everrzopy seems to shi | We are happy to find that a Rr. Wes t- ry of = naval officer S lately set the L| UNL Ub Ua i to pap example of seeking the “ satis- ” rR ea mys |! a elect, yo , faction of & tleman” in ; aa tii diviniin + hte pri hen Pleasure fetes ve Westminster Hall; turning an L4 a arg x4 - one We affair of honour into an affair ; ee od " ro. the | of law, and substituting the wo cay Lh sollect that the on, | sword of justice for the less daties of o Sherif are to | effective weapon of the duellist. nal a ip bens | There can be no doubt cast ms actors, it yma ys | upon the courage of any man ad aes 2% a long who substitutes Battle by Trial the pe he hod of a Sheriff is for Trial by Battle; and it is to ‘oe the . 1 impossible to suspect any officer Old B ‘ley, to | t half the of being afraid to go into action, oa of Mayor's Day. when he has voluntarily thrown penses of Lord O another and a broader application. What can it be in its widest and at | its fullest? Oh, here it is! Earls and Bishops have waited u received them with overpowering co the Eant or Dexsy—who escension—praying him to measures to prevent the opening of the new Crystal Palace for s! People ¢o the People on Sunda: y So that, after the people have been to their i walk in the devotions, they may not Eden prepared for them by Paxton? After they have said their prayers, they may not contemplate Gop’s goodness in his world of trees, and plants, and flowers ? Surely this is it: yes, in this visit of Lords and Bishops for such a narrow, 3“ bigoted —in nificance, meaning 0 though perhaps, not exactly Ma. nothing but gammon ! “ Gammon !” this‘we have in its intensest sig- Yes: gammon, gammon : Levy's gammon—nevertheless, The Disappointed Farmers. DisRakLI’s comfort—all as he can do— Is ’zummut loomun in the Vutur’. Pooh! Yaa—drat the Loom !—o’ that we ’ve had enow: nay “Txoves Lost to Sicut, To Memory Dean,” as Jowzs said, Nevertheless, “gammon,” so pithily touched upon by Levy, has! when Brown ran off, and left Jowzs to pay his bill. We put un where ’a be to mind the Plough !

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~~ Juny 8, 1859.

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ELECTION ANACREONTIC. OR young VERDANT chaplets twine, Standing lunches, standing wine ; Pelt the rosy hours that pass, (Venpant pays for broken glass) ; Lightly be your footsteps seen On the velvet bowling-green. Primrose-coloured is the ale ; Like the primrose, it must fail ! And the brandy, brown or pale, Die like violets in the vale. Drink the bowl, then, while you may, In the glory of to-day ; Soon its memory dies away, Save the bill that V. pay. must “OUR CRITIC” AMONG THE PICTURES. In my visits to the Academy Exhibition Room, I often catch myself asking this question, sometimes of myself, sometimes of Mx. Gixp, the eminent painter, sometimes of Squencu, the distinguished critic— “what is a Painter.” One can understand what the painter was, in the early schools, when religion demanded his chief service, when his employers were priors, and cardinals, and Popes, or pious laymen anxious to propitiate a saint, or record a mercy, or honour an ancestor, in the family chapel. Painting in those times was a thriving and honourable trade—the studio was called a shop—the master employed apprentices, who ground his colours, cleaned his palette, swept the painting room, and carried on, under the master’s eye, all the elaborate processes, with earths, and minerals, and oils, which the Sir Epwivs, or Mr. Lesxizs, of that day, performed for themselves, Winsors and Newtons and Rospersons being unknown. Well, in those days, there was no mistake about the painter. He was a workman, just as much as the carpenter or mason. In fact, any distinction of artist and workman was altogether unknown at that time. The same h that squared the beam, designed and carved the intricate tracery or delicate foliage of boss and finial; the chisel that dressed the stone of the arch, sculptured the angels who hold up the corbeil from which it springs. It would seem, after all—though Mr. Grp protests vehemently against being put on the same footing as | a house-painter—that the wall ¢ i i | than the artist lost. | the cathedrals, the Hotel de Ville and Rath-Haus, the palaces of Venice, and all the marvellous blacksmiths’ work, and carpenters’ work, and masons’ work, and armourers’ work, and goldsmiths’ work, of the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, in all the civilised countries of Europe. Most of us have travelled and seen more or less of the wonders of those times. For those who have not, are there not Wardour Street, and the old curiosity shops ? All this came of Art treated as a handicraft. I su most of the painters of those times went merrily and con- tentedly about their business, without much notion of their own dig- | nity, or the esthetics of their calling. They would be men of all | dispositions and kidneys—the clever jolly dogs, facile and heedless, who | only thought of getting over the ground, and touching the ducats of the rince, or prior, or abbot, who was their employer for the time ing—the slow and conscientious hands—the feeble imitators—the | original thinkers—in short, the usual variety one might look for on the | rolisof any craft. We may be sure the great geniuses were about as | rare then as now; and that few of the number who worked were im- | pressed in any particular way by the sublimity or beauty of the religious subjects which the habits of the time ented them to. Still, when | there did come a painter with a nature which could rise to the height of his common themes, he had his Heaven to soar in, or his Hell to sink to. There was room for all the sweetness of motherly love that a | Rapwag. or a Gurrtanpaio could dream on to his canvas, for all the grand horror wherewith an Oncacna or a MicuarL AneosLo could fill the dwellings of the damned, or for all the brooding faith of a Fra Beato, in the work that these men had to do. There were no Art- Unions in those days—no Royal Commissions of | the Fine Arts—no Academy dinners or Annual Exhibitions; in faci, no R.A.’s, incredible as it may appear—no distinguished patrons | to pay for pictu i nor disinterested picture-dealers to fill them with undoubted originals. The artist, as we have said, was a workm his work was called for in churches and chapels, | and Campo-Santos, and baptisteries, and town-halls, and in the council PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVART. gained more from this arrangement | It was to this that we owe the basilica and | of chambers of rulers, rarely, in the arcades a. us agin tahoe ate | th men’s againet a wall, as a moveable ornament a room, was unknown to those times. What pictures there were, en, pgp were on the foot-boards of beds, or on the — i ~~ a om is, or on vy ¢ of musical instru- ments, or in similar undignified places, put there, I suppose, to heighten the value of what was in itself valuable, and Shaleommnibion to objects of household use. Now-a-days we have yay Hy all this. The painter, now, is an artist, and would be very to be called or thought a workman. Mean- while, the workman ceased to be an artist. We have separated the domains of the useful and the ornamental. Freestone owns no kin with marble. House-painter, in fustian, takes off his brown paper cap humbly to Historical-painter, with R.A. after his name, din with dukes, and ing in the Morning Post among the distinguish guests at Bucki op taven Painting is not in and for churches or chapels. Establishment taboos her, and Dissent looks upon her as diabolical. Only poor half-and-half Puseyism ventures to coquet with _ her, and now and then breaks out into an altar-piece, or a chancel arch , decoration, amidst much dread of sturdy Protestant church-wardens, and disapproving Bishop. She is as much a stranger to palaces as to churches. National council-halls have as yet been closed to her in this country, though their doors are ajar at last, She has been reduced to | the dimensions of drawing-rooms, and confined within three-foot frames, fx gee out in ten-pound infinitesimal doses to Art-Union prize- | holders. | And thus it has come about at last, that the devout and stately muse | of medizeval Italy, amongst us, is fain, with a painted face and dwarfed body, to hustle her way painfully into the Annual Exhibition of the | Royal Academy. She must eat, poor creature, and is glad to suit | herself for Baker Street dining rooms, and May Fair boudoirs, and | Belgravian drawing rooms; or, in her highest flight, for Bridgewater and Grosvenor galleries. She no longer prompts our devotion, nor | inspires our recollection of the past, nor beautifies the passages of our }common life; but she makes our respectable dining rooms still more respectable, by perpetuating our host and hostess and their charming | family, and divides attention in our drawing rooms with the elegant furniture, and splendid wi -curtains, and gorgeous carpete—in short, she makes a very comfortable livelihood, in the way of room- | furnishing to a considerable extent. Our artists, in fact, have ceased to be workmen, if you will, but it is by becoming upholsterers—ticklers of the eyes of the rich, ministerers |to the vanity of the vulgar, contributors to the gratification of the ' ostentatious. elbow one another for room on the walls of the | Exhibition ; and, hke impudent ladies in other places, strive to attract | attention by the thickness of their rouge, and the brilliancy of their | colours—Non musa sed meretriz. In this sad struggle for the ad function of pissing Joun Butw’s eye, no wonder that painting almost forgotten to ask itself whether it might not yet, perchance, speak to his imagination, and stir his mind. In the upholsterer’s work the painter has acquired the upholsterer’s taste for fine fabrics and gay colours. He bas looked at life with a decorator’s eye, till he has got to value nothing but what he calls picturesque. The men and women round about him are unfit for his purposes, except as the originals of portraits—for portraits pay. But, for all else, he asks, helplessly, what is to be done with our present unpicturesque costume? And, thereupon, finding that the tailoring of the time is unfriendly, he turns away in disgust from the time altogether, and plunges wildly into the reign of Cuantes Tae Secoyp, and Louis tHe Fourtgeentu, and Witiiam and Mary, where he can disport himself delightedly among brocades and velvets, and gold lace, and peach-blossom coats, and blush-coloured stockings. And all this while he flatters himself that Art is honoured, because K.A.’s sit at great men’s tables, and entertain Dukes at Academy dinners. No, my dear Mr. Grup. Art is more of a trade now, than it was when RaPuakt’s studio had no other name than botlega—in English, shop; and moreover, it isanemasculate and man-milliner sort of a trade, instead of one demanding strong brains, and a brave and believing heart. It is a trade mainly conversant with miserable things and petty aims—with vanity, and ostentation, and vulgarity, and sensuality, frivolity—no longer dealing with themes of prayer and praise, with the glories of beatitude, or the horror of damnation, with the perpetuation of family dignities and devotions, the recording of great events, the dignifying of public and national, or the beautifying of private and individual life. It is a | trade in ornament, and its Academy isa shop, and its Exhibition a display of rival wares, in which the best hope and the sole aim of the many 1s to catch the eye of a customer; and he who “ colours most highly, is sure to please.” Mx. Give interrupts me here, with indig- nation, to ask if I think that this is the artist's fault? | My dear Mr. Grrr, I have never said it is. 1 do not think itis. I | believe it to be all our faults—the critics’, the buyers’, the people’s, jthe Government’s. Oh! there are enough of us to bear the biame, | \and we really need not quarrel about the distribution of it. Let |us rather think if there is any way to better matters. Suppose we ' venture a hint or two next week.

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18 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL ~— GRAND DEMONSTRATION OF PUBLIC FEELING IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM. Pouxcu! Mr. Punca! I have got such a bunch of ideas, from my noddle I scarcely can free ’em, And I tremble with fright, as I sit down to write what I saw t’other night in the British Museum. I had loiter’d till dark in that overcramm’d ark, looking into each case in the mighty collection, And wearied with that,—you know young Memwon’s Statue,—behind it 1 sat, you must know, for se ; On my elbow then sinking, so ‘long I sat thinking, never heeding the deepening shadow of gloom, Not dreaming ’twas late, or that every Curator had vanish’d, and left me alone in the room When, lo! with much clatter, the head of a Satyr, which I thought was mosaic and nailed to the w Seized a conch that hung near it, an — it, with a blast loud and drear it quite start At a summons so stunning, pell- oell there’ came running all the creatures whose features 1’d marked in the day ; Mummies rush’d from their places, and close on their neanes birds and beasts from their cases march’d forth in Cats, Bats, Scarabei, Doge, Tne Frogs, and Urai, all with glee round Osiris and While Zeus - Posz1poN ne both to ride on the crupper and neck of an Ichthyosaurus ; Lararp’s Bulls next advancing, and prancing, and dancing, so fill’d the young MzMNON with pious emotion, That he “ Sure each shape is our much beloved Arts ; let ’s hasten and show the dear things our devotion.” Then kneeling before them, he strove to adore them, while Taor, who of Ammow and Isis the scribe is, ’"T wixt the Bulls took his stand, with his Ibis in hand, well knowing “in medio tutissimus ibis ;” ; And APoLLo said, “ Really! our beasts fatted freely, when I served in the pastures and stalls of ApMeTus; But if Bulls such as those e’er had enter’d our shows, I’d have laid ten to one they would certainly beat us.” From the pe oo room crawling, and sprawling, and falling, such cripples ling for help to each other ; Some, of arms quite bereft, with the limbs they bad left bore the trunk Time cleft from the legs of another ;

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And next, to surprise us, came young Drowysvs, like Sr. Dewis, his namesake, without any head ; While a Tuesvs, deprived of his two feet, contrived on his stumps to Wiprireton ion, instead __ hop, : ion, in . Thighs look’d after their calves; of a Torso the halves from opposite corners sought vainly to meet ; While a Head, in a funk, cried, “Oh! where is my trunk? Where can it have slunk to without any feet ?” ‘eneth, with much patching, and sorting, and matching, we of ’em join’d, save a Lap of Latona, Which all s#iplessly Jay, as advertisements say, of no use to any excepting the owner. From the upper rooms rushing, the largef beasts crushing, came, most with a very disconsolate air, : Because the Mastodon their great toes Sed trod on, as they jostled | and push’d in the crowd on the stair; b. they And the poor Hippopotamus murmur’d.“’Od rot ’em,” as he walk’d by the side of the large Polar: ; “They ’ve christen’d me Zekoe—fhiat’s Cape Dutch for Sea Vow!” and the great Irish Elk added, looking quite grave, “It’s ashame thus to serve us; they ’ve labell’d me Cervus, and all the world knows that ’s the Latin for slave!” ' As I pass’d through the Hall, I could hear one and all making bitter complaints of the places assign’d them. The Colossi all swore they must break through the floor of the room in which Fate and the Trustees confined them ; Here Diana complain’d that all day she was chained, vis-a-vis with that fellow, Actazon; while Venus Said, “ Paris stands near me, sweet youth! but, oh dear me! they’ve planted that frump, Ericurvus, between us, And my own little Cupip behind that great stupid Sarcophagus stands, _ looking mopish and dreary ; Quite hidden, poor fellow! much like that puella, in Viner, que se cupit ante videri.” “Your griefa, I opine, ma’am, are nothing to mine,” said a Bison, who near to her chanced to be standing : “Oh! I pine and I sigh forthe days long gone by, when I lived by myself in a case on the landing ; I had room then, I ween, both to see and be seen; but they’ve packed us so close in ¢hzs classification, That the Yac from Thibet will do nothing but fret, and the Brahminee Bull is consumed with vexation ; While the Buffalo Cow her fear searcely know’ how to conceal, lest the Aurochs, who’s stationed between us Should insert his fierce tusk in the sides of the Musk, or commence an assault on the whole of his genus.” As the Bison thus spoke, on a sudden there broke from the head of Ramesses, just over the door, (Though it’s not got achest) a strong voce di testa, such as opera critics ne’er dream’d of before; __ And it said, “ My fine fellers! the things in the cellars are soon to be brought up the stairs to this floor ; There’s an end to our glory, for soon, on each story, there’ll be just room enough for our worthy Curators To take care lest a Trustee find us damp or dusty; but there ’ll not be an inch of space left for spectators /” As he ceased, sucha loud wailing rang through the crowd, that I started ; ahd, lo! by the sun’s ruddy gleam, Through the windows, I knew I had dream’d, but yet you will allow that it wasn’t entirely a dream. Queen’s Bench.—Achilli v. Newman. Tuts trial being concluded, it was found necessary for public health to fumigate the Court. The taint of friar’s balsam, and smell of Roman candles, were most dreadful. Ail the walls were whitewashed, pounded camphor strewn upon the floor, chloride of lime sluiced in abundance, every means adopted to render the place as clean as possible, after the abominations brought into Court by Doctor Newmay. We regret to hear that more than one juryman, of delicate constitution, is at present suffering severely from the moral miasma arising from the examination. EPIGRAM ON AN UNCONSTITUTIONAL ACT. Tuer Constitution whilst the French bemoan, Jou» Butt believes he has preserved his own: Oh, great mistake !—but not found out, until They closed the gates on Constitution Hill. THE AGRICULTURAL LABOURER REPRESENTED ! Tae Marquis or Graney said, in the Commons—“ I represent the agricultural labourer!” Pusch has received several letters from _ PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. NEW HANDBOOK FOR ITALY. By the Fant or Manmatape.— Downing Street. “.. CCASIONALLY Punch throws himself into \\ critical chair; and this is such a work, and its distinguished late—whether fortunately or not for himself we will not pause to inqu much of ic attention, that his has become ost a i work. Let Mr. Murray look to his scarlet covers ; for the noble Ear or MarmaLape has here produced 8 a place in every traveller's i ive nothingness — to the country, especially if the country be Italy, in which they may travel or reside. Always con- form to custom, is, evidently, the philosophy of the noble writer. When in Greenland, eat walrus and drink whale-cil—in fact, do as Greenland does, The Karl, however, parti- cularly advises young Englishmen to take anything that an Austrian officer may provide them, whether it be the flat of the sword or the edge, with the most perfect stoicism. “Let us suppose,” says the noble Karl, addressing the young British traveller, “ that are hustled, or even kicked off the trottoir into the middle of the road by any soldier, native or me to the place; well, it is to put yourself in a boxing-attitude, like an h about to kn aa - the worst of ill-breeding low coalheaver, or anything of that sort, as tho the soldier down : because soldiers are men of the highest and nicest honour ; especially Austrian soldiers: in Italy, the flies are not even permitted to settle on them. No, my advice is to the young Englishman to slack his temper, or quicken his pace.” a temper” is, assuredly, an odd phrase; but it is evident that the noble Earl—the instances abo in his book—is above common expression, making a entirely for himself.) The noble Earl continues. “If, however, the Englishman’s blood will rise when hustled, shoved, or kicked; and if, in an unguarded poe fro or begins to — his om an oneaee i — - elbows,” (ori style again) “ as his skull cut throu the officer’s sword, that is not, according to regimental orders, to be insulted; why then, the young Englishman is to be open to an apology, and any amount of money that his ambassador in the place, or his for Foreign Affairs in EF d may think sufficient for him. I am a ing,” writes the noble , “ that the ne ee is of a commercial character of mind, when money will be all that is neces- sary. But I cannot hide it from my conviction that I have known Englishmen, and am open to confess | should like to know them again —for such noble spirits save a great deal of trouble to a Foreign Secretary—who, upon being cut down by an Austrian lieutenant would, when able to leave the hospital, send the lieutenant a challenge, and so, making the quarrel a matter of honour, blow the lieutenant’s brains out; or, should the lieutenant be the better shot, take the penalty of the lieutenant’s bullet. This was according to the good old plan of thirty years ago. A man’s honour is always safest in his own hands: that is, much safer than in the hands of a Foreign Secretary. I know it is not Christianlike to try to shoot a man; and yet, | don’t | know that gen’ in Tuscany—at least they were not thirty rs |ago—should be bound by fastidious notions of Christianity. This, | however, I will say: I advise no young + —— to sojourn— and more especially in Florence, without hair- especially in Tuscany, triggers.” ales e have now, we hope, culled sufficiently from the book to do justice | to the full-blown reputation of the Kant or Manmataps. The work | is dedicated in German to Lizutrewant Forstuvuner, of the Austrian | army, quartered at Florence. In conclusion we must observe, that no | traveller’s portmanteau will be complete without the hook and— | duelling pistols, — ———————_—_—— Quiddam Honorarium. Oye of those troublesome fellows, commonly called “ Wags,” who sometimes unconsciously hit the right nail on the head, was heard to observe the other day, that the new practice of referring affairs of _ honour to the lawyers is very suggestive of the old notion of “ honour among thieves.” Casrnet News.— Ministers are to eat their white-bait dinner next agricultural labourers protesting aganst any such misrepresentation. week.”—Daily News, They have already eaten their words.— Punch,

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20 | PUNCH. OR THE _LONDON — CHARIVARI.

Rogues Se. mon of T* choice, | shall — my 7 AN AUSTRIAN APOLOGY. | earnest attention to islation having for its object the improvement of county oe - : and the establishment of agreeable arrangements at races. "| Tue Commander-in-Chief,” says the Ean “| shall, as your representative, contend zealously for the abolition of all duties on foreign OF MaLMesBury, silks, lace, glov wn] and all other articles of dress or ornament. As a substitute for the| « proposed tosend Lizvrewan? Forstavsen, with another Income Tax, w has operated so injuriously in regard to housekeeping money, it is my | officer who spoke English, to Mx. Maruman, and if he said intention to propose an equivalent increase of the present inadequate duty on those nasty 7... meant no offence, the off-cer was ready to make an horrible things, cigars, and all anes ~ pee To this—combining a fiscal with a domestic | *?° object —I would add a tax w | Ges a man’s skull, and then ask him if “My best exertions el be ale os aaa to no to sappest a policy tending to the maintenance | had meant no offence! Once upon a time, a of peace, whilst at the same time I should oppose any measure that would diminish | lady’s lap-dog—a pampered, little brute the number and variety of handsome uniforms, em deprive society of any of those agreeable | —bit a piece out of a man’s “ Dear, officers whom you do the honour to consider its principal ornaments. | sweet little thing,” said the =e | owner of the | 3 The party with which | have the honour to be associated is the Evening Party, and I dog, “I hope it won’t make it sick.” That promise to be ever faithful to its colours as displayed in silk, satin, and muslin. In all that|dog’s name ought, by saticipation,. to have relates to that branch of expenditure, my views are liberal. been ForsTHUBER. “ Should you confer on me the supreme felicity of being your representative in Parliament, I shall ok cease to pay and eens + to name, which I hope will ——° me — 3 tinuance our esteem regard ever render me an interesting object view ; from the ’ Gallery. My first Parliamentary effort will be made for the removal of ASSOCIATION OF IDBA6, ; | the kind of lattice-work in fat of that gallery which at present intervenes between the} A Cockney Tradesman, when he was shown admiration of the British Senate and the smiles of Beauty the Niagara Falls, exclaimed with — “ My person and sentiments, being such as I have desorbed them, embolden me to hope for enthusiasin —“What a the favourable opinion and support of ladies of all shades < of complexion. In choosing me, 1! Bath!” Row, Stoke Newington, both = th Canaty of a he Office in Lombard Street, im the Precinct of Whitefriars, in the City of London, aad spt hy Se tae Pe a wy Sed,

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9 ] THOUGHTS ABOUT MONEY. BY ONE WHO RARELY HAS ANY ; AND THEN, VERY LITTLE OF IT. HERE is no art which re- quires so much delicacy to — as the art of rrowing Money. The only time, I think, when a man a all con- sciousness 0 , is > when he is w ine Wien, ~~ Ua s out the only ace, ’ believe, where fe can really live with- out it. Death is made bitter to many men from they feel at leaving their gold behind them. If they could only take it with them to Heaven, they would die supremely h ! Thesys t t there might be a much greater simplicity of language, and a far less hypocrisy of laudation, on our tomb- stones, if, instead of the human qualities that are generally heaped upon a man after he is in his grave, one were simply to : , —— the amount of wealth he died possessed of. For instance, as plainly as this:—‘ Here lies Jonn Jonze, 41, who at his death was worth £100,000!!!” Could worldly praise possibly soar higher? How ridiculously faint “universally beloved by all who knew him,” would read by | the side of an epitaph like the above ! I am assured by the poetess that “there is a silver lining to every cloud.” As I do not live in the clouds, 1 cannot say; but I only wish there was a silver lining to every purse. have come to this impertinent conclusion—‘ The Englishman abroad is only tolerated | for his Money.” | The greatest consolation many men have when they have lost their money, is that at all | events they “lost it like a gentleman.” I once knew a great philosopher, who pretended to have a great contempt for the value of mi , until he was fed five shillings at a Police Office. He altered his opinion directly after he had. been imprisoned six weeks, because he couldn’t pay the fine. Of ail expensive laxuries, man pays the dearest, perhaps, for that of Law. When once he has entered a Court of Justice, he cannot take a step, nor speak, nor write a single word, nor swear, nor look at the Judge, without its costing him so much for each separate action. I am suré the scales which Tuem1s balances in her hands, must be to hold the money which Plaintiff and Defendant are expected to drop into them before she will trouble herself to weigh the evidence. It’s the heaviest purse that wins. : The men who inveigh the strongest against money and its corruption, and call it all sorts of hard names, such as “ dirty dross,” “yellow dirt,” “filthy lucre,” &., &., I have generally found to be the hardest men to deal with, and the most rapaciously exacting in all theit es transactions ; men, in short, who would sacrifice a principle any day, sooner than lose a sixpence ! he fact of a man losing his fortune, I can imagine to be not half so painful as the comments of his friends upon it. To make money to enjoy it, I can understand easily enough; but to make money merely to shut it up in your drawers, surpasses my comprehension of financial enjoyment, Yet the miser devotes his whole life to no other pursuit. He makes money as the Master of the Mint makes it, to let others have the enjoyment of it. His existence is but a living exem- plification of the torment of Sisyrnus, only instead of a big stone, he is continually rolling up and down a tremendous bag of gold. The Portico of Life has no inscription upon it. I recommend the following:—“ Pay Here ;” for, on my word, it is nothing but a system of paying from beginning to end. 6 only man who managed, to my knowledge, to live withoat money, was Rosinson RUSOB. __A man may owe #s much money as he if he leaves a single debt of honour unpai of a gentleman. : Nothing so pitiful as a Lord without money in the society of City form of Gentism is, [ money, in the society There are two ciasses of poor—the rich Poor, and the poor Poor. ‘The rich Poor are those who, like myself, are poor, and care nothing about it. The poor Poor are tho e who not only are poor, but are ashamed of being poor. Such men are the ery papeant of all poor people, and by the tide of one of them, | jingle the keys in my pocket and imagine they are sovereigns. Literature was scarcely considered respectable, until Str Waren Scort made so much Bee and be thought none the worse for it; but , he immediately forfeits all pretensions to the title believe, the Gentism of ie eat With plea " ieve, the tism of money), uniéss it is a City gent. with plenty of Lords. bjoined, oye geo tifyi that the rudi Be pes wo altogether unkuows to toe Bein peasantry. If a man is economical, or penurions, or extravagant at home, it is entirely owing to his wife ; for no man — ge yl art of saving or spending . so well as a woman. Depend Sy it, i women had had the ment | b. Maney ang hs, * stupi ogies” popular burd would ve been paid off long ago—or prs (More Thoughts when I get some more Money), A DISPLAY OF SCOLLARDSHIP. Ir is unhappily the fact that inability to read write prevails to a great extent among our rural population. } is a gra- are Original document wee oe on a | ween of Inte ager, of hia, We, bie, be: bed with glue, suggested that served as an affiche to some barn-door : * Arkengarthdale Feast Sports Will commence on Munday May 31 1852 ® A Hors Raice For a Bridel A Fut Raice For a Hat A Cettel To Shut For A Belt to Restel for A Cock To Be Catched A Wheel Barro Raice A Sack Raice A Bell Raico Coite Plaing Diveing For Copper A Donke Raice For a Bride! A Gounpeace For Woman To Run for Tow Dog Trails Ribbens To Danee for And a Menney other sports To Tedious To Mentian At Present" There is something peculiarly interesting about | _ Syn 4 ved a wart i pean ship, it reminds us of t good old times t the invention of printing—an art and mystery which perhaps has not even yet been revealed to the Arcadians of Arkengarth Dale. Then its orthography also very closely resembles that of our ancestors, and may, to borrow a term from architecture, be described as a tine speci- men of y English. Among its merits—per- spicuity, or, indeed, perfect intelligibility cannot be enumerated; what the “ Cettel” which is “To Shut For,” may be, is more than we can tell; and we can only conjecture that it is a settle or seat of some kind, or peradventure a agg Noe is to be the prize of marksmanship, The “Tow Dog Trails Ribbens To Dance for,” are things of which, except that they are in the dual number, and_ribbons of some sort, we can form no idea. That very comprehensive item that concludes the programme, “ Menney other sports To Tedious To Mentian At. Present,” whilst indicating the difficulty with which it was drawn up, and which is further attested by a very livegalar round hand, implies a hope on the part of the writer thai at some future time, possibly, he may be enabled to use his pen with greater facility. Let us trust that he will, by the kind ission of certain persons. Why is it that xe spells horse, hors; and foot, fut; and can write donkey no better than he probably can his own name ? and why is there the same large room for improvement in the scholarship of thousands such as himself? Because contending zealots cannot with what theological mys- teries they shall leaven the common information which the schoolmaster is to impart to the country bumpkin. _ “ Here ro-pay, anv Gows T0-monnow.”—To | prove the veracity of this old saying, the reader | need but invest a sovereign or two at any | money by it. VOL, XXIII. “respectable” Betting Office.g

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Se apnea!” = 22 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. AN EXTRAORDINARY CIRCLE. eS Tr. az ! aihas “ain apr ae THE FARE verews THE CABMAN. Y the Court Circular’s| with any degree of report ofthe late baptism | female voioe they are the exclamations of the Indian Princess, 1” A ” “Now then, I we are informed that “ After the christening, the distinguished circle were con- | ; d to the Dinner-room, where luncheon was served.” A circle is so very dis- tinet AF = that one _ can rm a con-|; » ception of it as a noun ing sad of multitude; and there % is somewhat painful in \\ the statement that a » circle were conducted. If the wording had » been, was conducted, its mmar would have| ig n less queer, but its sense not much more intelligible : for who can . understand how a circle, » however ere or gs : can con into | window aroom? Did the royal pe aed party lock themselves together in a ring by , — mae - a. isa nuisance to have to roar and ee aD ave emselves | baw purpose which might trundled into the dinner- ah ae get. hed” by 4 room in the shape of| pulling a string. There is, we think, p living hoop, after the |, penalty incurred by cabmen for the manner in which Mes-| negligence in tion, and it is sug- » sieurs Clown and Panta-| gested that a who cannot be loon roll off the stage? | stopped by their check-strings, should We must say that| be otherwise pulled up. great, if not unwarrant- able iality is shown ve to the circle by the Court Newsman. He| Tue Racine Propuet’s most is always writing ‘about a distinguished circle; why should he not as well say—distinguished square, distinguished triangle, distinguished polygon, rhomboid, or trapezium ? “OUR CRITIC” AMONG THE PICTURES. Mer. Meat r is furious with me, on account of that last paper. ‘‘ Do you mean to say,” he asks me, “that painters are to cease working for a people who buy their pictures? There’s my Discovery, of the Jody 0 ad “| know”—lI interrupted. “Well. There it is still in my studi as it came back from Westminster 1. fourteen feet by nine, just Who’ll buy that work, L should like to know? There's Stn Jouw Crnwapan admires it excessively—indeed he insists it’s the best thing I’ve done, but, as he says ‘ where és one to hang an acre of canvas?’ No—no. Don’t talk to me of what painters were, and what to paint pictures now-a-days, they must be pictures that will go into such houses as people live in now-a-days. If they won’t do that, where the deuce are they to go?” Mr. Meetup reasons logically enough from his point of view. If there be indeed no employer for the painter but the connoisseur who buys his picture to fill a space on his walls, and no destination for his work but the private gallery, I do not see how we are to escape Mr. MeciLr’s conclusion, which, in , is the one generally acquiesced in. To it we owe our present modes, notions, and results in Art. But is there no hope beyond this? I cannot help thinking there is one, a possibility of which (as Ma. Diskag.i expresses it), already 7 oy } the — a D ~ The days of the Popes and the Doges, of the D’Esrzs, Gonzacas, and Mepicis, of the merchant princes of Florence and Genoa, of the monks of Assisi, and the friars of the Certosa are passed away. There is no mistake about patrons of this class. Church and Suete hers done their best for Art, and will do no more; at least in this country. Small German Princes, with no troublesome Parliaments to control capitals. unich and Dresden, and even Berlin, still find work for the Coxnettuses, and Kauipacus, and Benpemanns. Schools of historic Art bave been fostered in these places into as much life as schools of Art can have where there is no life of a nation to transfuse into them. ProritaBLe Pick.—The Pick of the Pocket. And by the side of this historic Art has grown up, thanks to the same royal patronage, a religious Art also, of the dead-alive kind, which, in default of a real live religious Art is worthy of respect, perhaps. Nay, the same struggles and aspirations which f theologic vent m Oxford tracts, and incarnate themselves in a J. H. Newman, and other eminent perverts, have had their counterpart in Art, also, even in this country. Our Herserrs and Pucins are quite worthy to sit by the side of the Oversecks and Hesses. But the artist, thus inspired, finds as little acceptance in the heart of England as the theologian. It is a dilettante business after all, to w Maz. Jouw But rests a stranger, or, if he feel at all, rather dislikes u pictures used to be. If we are| it must ally itsel | into the bargain noble lay figures to | gallery. pon the whole. I cannot help thinking, in spite of the vehement protest of Mz. Mzettr, that if Art in cy is ever to be raised into a grand and fruitful life, to the things that make what she is. As | Sta Epwarp Bu.wer Lytron would say, the Ideal must wed the Real in these islands, in order to beget the ul. There is our public li of Parliament. Here is suggestion, and ins j life, waiting to be aes in Se see Bee piration, and subject-matter | for the artist, and no lack of room and verge for him to disport in. Surely our Mac.ises, and Laspsezas, and Herpeats, and Corgs, and Dyces, our Warps, and Faitras, and Ecos, our Warrsgs, and ARMt- TaGEs, and T'zNNIELs, could nowhere be more worthily em than inside those w working for the People of maaaeel, id by the People of England, to illustrate the glorious progress o! People’s growth, from the times when it toddled in its tive infancy of woad and shee up to these days of beaver and Ma. Jonn ULL, though by no means a heroic figure, outwardly, in the various capacities, and tastes, and tendencies, of our best | Mz. Mecitr might even here find a market for his Di | Body of—we all, know who. We mi pain bric-a-brac, | It is true that Parliament stands between Joun But and his | historical painters, guarding the portal of Mr. Butt’s future picture Races EBDY, the Political Economist, and Maceregpry, the this nineteenth century, is a gentleman whose birth, parentage and education yreeet very remarkable In ing these, there would be employment for more t the thought and skill, all ters. | T§- t might here work off our the snopes, may, indeed, make so many German Athenses of their little | accumulated stores of curious lore in costume and qa and find the velvet and brocade upon. 4S TRE BE SER SOB hing || epobtrectrmea ee anmrs's ey

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

warm reception to Jutrus Csar, that Mr. Burt would make short work of the and Macerezpy. But there is more than are | Manchester could build its Free Trade Hall, and Liverpool is justly proud of that stately edifice which bears the name of ‘Az. BuL’s patron | saint. But those walls are naked. Why should not the history of | mechanic industry, and the marvellous annals of commerce be set up in colour and in marble, there, in the scene of their grandest triumphs ? Here were work indeed worthy of Art, and worthy of England. And it is not in these great towns alone that such work might be done. The whole of these islands is printed over with the footsteps of great men, and the traces of great actions. What Art-record of Suaksrzane adorns Stratford-on-Avon?’ Runnymede is innocent of all comme- moration of _ Charta. What material trace of Bacon is to be found in Gray’s Inn? What light do the encaustics of Henr Sano throw on the history of trade and commerce in the city of London? Oh—if Mx. Jonw But would only call upon his artists (to write his life, and distribute the —_— 1 over England, where the heroes ~< moved, and breathed, and worked, and invented, and spoke, and sung! THE WARDEN OF MERTON’S GLEE. (In case he loses his Election for Oxford.) Brow, Waxrpey, blow the mournful horn, And the black flag hoist on high ; For the Papists have fought by GLapstowe’s hand, And have won the victory ! The Wanpew heaved a desponding sigh, And said, “I plainly see, That I have been beat by a half-cross knight, The cat’s-paw of Popery.” Sadly the Warpen blew his horn, And the black flag reared on high ; And the mass was sung by Oxford young, And the fish eat merrily ! MINISTERIAL AFTER-WHITE-BAIT-DINNER JOKES. | have you lived in the meantime ?’

| Mr. Watrore saggested that “the brave va to the | Standing Army of Astley’s—and who had been through more cam-| | paigns than any army in the world—should each be allowed to have a| . | Tae Duxe or NortaumBertanp, “ couldn’t help observing that it | | was extremely lucky the Vessel of the State had never been in a Govern- | | ment kyard, or else it must have fallen all to pieces, or have gone | | to the bottom long ago.” Stix Jouw Paxincton was “rather pleased than otherwise, that it | was so extremely difficult to hear in the present House of Commons, as | | itsaved one the unpleasan’ of answering many a troublesome | question. In fact, he for one should like the House all the better, if | one couldn’t hear at all.” | ‘Tae Kant or Matmespury had “been informed upon very good authority, that the Empznorn Sovtovque was fully prepared to ask exp ions of the French President as to his intentions of assuming the title of Em , as he was determined to resist any such attempt NaPoLzon to cast ridicule upon his Imperial rank One of the Lords of the Treasury gave notice, that “he should apply for a public grant of money to put in repair the House of Brunswick. It was a disgrace to the nation to talk so much about the ‘House of Bruns ” and to leave it in such a tottering state of ruin, as it was now in at the Nine Eims, near Vauxhall Bridge.”

Tue Heavizst Parer-Wetent—The Duty upon paper.

Mr. Tress having hurried from the Cily to meet J’uima in the Park, is disagreeably reminded thal he has forgotten to post the Office letters.

IRISH REVOLUTION. Tue Irish make a fuss about their nationality; but they are losing it.

In proof of this fact, take the following story, related by the Glasgow | Constitutional, but without that obvious comment which it will be our | duty to make. “ Aw Inten Caprra.ist.—A gentleman in Neweastle was applied to some time ago by an Irishman in his employment, to see if he could awist bim in the investment of acum?” “It's all my wages since I came to work for you, yourhonour” “ But how earn.” “And what does yom wife work at?” goes out every day with the children, and cadges.” “ Cadges ””’—degs, that y innocenees. But think of the change which the above anecdote— together with many other similar indications—shows to be taking place in the Irish ¢ might have noticed it. ‘The Irishman is now assuming that dis to providence and frugality which was heretofore sup the distinctive genius of Scotchmen. Great political results may arise from this transformation of the Lrish mind; order, perhaps, and obedi- ence to the laws—accompanied by industrious enterprise, usual ablution, and habitual veracity. At present we will only commend it to the | a hundred pounds. “A hundred pounds!” said he: “where have you picked up such | “My wife keeps the house, and we save what tl | “ Why, the truth is, your honour, she is, my ladies, may it please your graces and | ur Glasgow contemporary, of all journalists, | ition | to be | attention of dramatists, advertising them that they must quite remodel — the stage son of Erin, who must no be the light-hearted Irishman, but the canny Celt, and must entirely cease to talk about “ paltry’ money, and to invoke the foul fiend to “fly away with the dirty | shillings,” but instead of uttering those extravagant sentiments, will none chuckle, and rub his hands, and smack his lips at the idea iv) . Great Metropolitan (and General) Improvement. To the Editor of the Builder. Mr dear Sir—Can you give me any information about the key-stones | Arches? Because | of the Court of should like to know whether there would be much difficulty in removing them: for, doubtless you will agree with me, their removal would effect a great improvement, as it would oceasion the downfall of that whole f of abuse, extortion, and humbug, =e Your affectionate contemporary, Pouncu.

A Prophecy all but Pulfilled. celebrated prophecy of “The day will come, gen- tlemen, when you shall hear me,” wants but one thing now to make it =< It only wants a House of Commons in which Ma, Dissaz.i can be heard.

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any | will not betake himself to the bed of t 24 _PUNC CH, OR THE 1} LONDON CHARIVARI A JOLLY CAMPAIGN. OVEMENTS oF THE ARMY :— “The 40th or Somersetshire Regiment will embark from Cork to Australia in steam transports.” The transports of these gallant fellows, we should think, will be some- thing more than vaporous, as we further learn that : “On their arrival they = 4 march up to the ‘diggins is to have ten sniathege . iH, y extra pay, and -_ ee veotran with omaha pr nt os | the gold they escort. Leave wi | al now Bf to smal! detachments at for a certain period, to Speeett cas i oth oe bad “ Thus far into the bowels of the land” to be permitted to march on “without impediment,” must be extremely agreeable to the feelings of the British, or any other soldier. If there are any trenches in which one would like to see =v, they would be those constituting the auriferous “ oft Such mining as that A noe the 40th are to be duty for yo sy) employed in is ur Sappers and Miners. MISS VIOLET AND HER “ OFFERS.” CHAPY x XII. ‘Miss Viotet’s Papa to an old legal friend, “My Dear ZACHARY, “You are an excellent conveyancer, and your pupil, Mr. Atnany Swettiverton, is a very a and honourable fours man. But you can only speak according to your respective lights, which, at this present writing, are as false lights as ever Cornishman hung out to sea-captain. Your pupil has proposed to my VioLet, and has been rejected, but whatever he ma: think. or hg may say, ALBANY Thames, or even to a cradle on the banks of an Australian Pactolus. rocess, ee pe ae (a ORD PeTeR i Bs from affixing to Ny os at Le ae Leds the original, a to what a young gentleman or lady, wi m a few words of t or He Arzast a ‘oy many, but I jected Ue Weis comfort for him in ee ae of the mp say, [ ported him. For my Vioxer bg Dy her mind to iy him, and, between ourselves, Genes, I wee the past tense, I do not imply Hr thet be pers & VS Sot ibe pression is that she wi// marry him, but she is little sit a A, tt. in | whole world,* as well ” the Ys oc geab (what are | Kivosinyen ?), and she wil that, Rrra iveth this Viougt to be rei | words, ‘ Who ‘be the cue for, ‘I do—her father.’ | bemoaning bell hes not said to himself af leant ¢ billion are = am certain she loves me, and it was only the Mey Sd and shall be Lord Chancellor one of these — and ELpow ran away with ——’ He go over the bridge—se go over to a ~ * You old spinner of nets to catch remainder-men, and reversioners, | | and inheritors to the third and fourth generation, are you coming out with a heart ? You pretending to mind the interests of anybody who | is already born? You, whose protective care, for the last forty res 188 | (ever since you betook yourself to Lincoln's Inn upon pretty | Esrwer Ganete refusing your arm, and going with Volunteer Jorrs to see the Allied Sovereigns in the Park), has been devoted to the prospective babies who are to ‘take,’ in future ages, under year reticulated entails, And you write to me in all sincerity, to p love cause for your pupil, who will do something, you are well oceaeid. to be rid of a bateful life. Is that all you know about Assurance on Life, my old Zacnany? The Assurance Society that gave you three hundred guineas to make tight work of their title to the Claretcup estates (comprising the townships of Swaggerty, Farrago, and Killbayliffe, | Connaught), must have been slightly cheated in you. Zacuary, you are not half informed upon the matter; and I tell you so point-blank, | because, to the conveyancing intellect, I know pe — cometh as a dead stopper, 9 estoppel, as you musically cal “So he has ing in your chambers for ix teenth in the most exemplary ane —saanien your precedents with a steam-power of scribble; never sending out your hired clerk for beer in the day-time, as is the manner of other pils; never drawing Ceritoes and tis on your draft paper, and fore them about for the inspection of the evangelical attorneys who come to see you ; never fencing or wrestling with his friends in your front parlour while consultations were going on in the back room; never mfiting your clients, in your absence, by volunteer opinions that their claims are all moonshine, and a they had better abandon them, and not make fools of themselves. You speak as a worthy, orderly man, whose soul has been vexed by youths with animal spirits and inconsiderate minds. I am glad that ALBANY has come at last to comfort you, and it speaks well for your rey that you are trying to elicit some comfort for him. But I have lived, and loved, and so forth, and if you had kicked Volunteer Jorrs and married Estuer, as you ought to have dene, you would have known enough to agree with me in thinking that Master ALBawny has already “— ) some crumbs of comfort for himself. You never put ee mney ¢ a testator to the rack to wrench out the meaning wanted, as he has twisted, and turned, and tertared every word spoken st our interview at Brighton here on Sunday evening. I know the | “T bave nothing to say Layee him in the to secure Vioter’s affections, and to make her fully aware devoted to her. And armed with some vont of persmanse om the the part, he came to me, and made a revelation manner. He said that he had about four h father’s will, and having never had anything oe quite done that, and about four hundred a At = a Curreney Questioner, he would f his own: but which he Havin n no oby ect of his own, he had been fon pity deverbed or six other people’s objects. Sia Cracksy Bounces a Azasy laid down on his s igned end craaied win Ce at the hills in Scotland. Ye Sranker Boom went Mr. SwELLinoton eat GamBie’s preserved in , The Honovraste Mumste Fitzetume for a and A.Bany speechified from the Cross Keys window, and ch the chins of constitutional babies. omg, lecxas PasteRw ran and young ALBaNy Swe.iineton backed them, and sometimes rode them. And thus, holding the tenor of st 8 way who came in his own, he had lounged on through life ~ 4 slowly as that the constable could at all keep up with all these things cost money, and ready money, too, while pom of boots, and sade, made into “ materials for history,” ey notes by occasional iscounters. All this he told me, not carelessly, but as if, etioe discovered that life might be something better than a lounge, he was bs ag ee fall into quick step; and by way of getting into marching order months ago, paid you a hundred guineas (raised with no sal Miticaltys for leave to sit in your chambers and study Logp St. Leonarps on “Vendors and Purchasers.” Imagine little Viotzt having the honour of procuring his lordship a new reader. “ T pointed out to him that, upon his own showing, he was in no position to marry: for though I would not work himself into middle life before making an offer, I did not think marriage should be the very first proof that he was im earnest. Con- gratulating him—not in mere Fe a but cordially—on the honourable course he was pursuing, I declined to let Viotet enter into engagement ; nor would I hold out any promise for the future. she loves him, and if the stuff is in him (and, you old ZAcuasy, are to keep ‘this to Mh peng le ), 1 dare say we S abhor interview some day, then there may be a job for you, Zs0nARs of the Settlements. looki and V 7 I “ ALBANY went away loo very unhappy, IOLET believe, had a little private ery, or so, but she is too sensible and right-hearted, as well as too affectionate, to pout. Besides, she is conaaioed, | will swear, by a perfect certainty that Her Masesry will, one of these days, order a new woolsack, expressly for Lonp CuaNceLton SWELLIneton. Many a true heart, ZacH, as you know ve has as lung to such viction through yore of solitude, and struggle, and sorrow, ay A span bogs, Wis Cad Serna: ot Tay speaking’ T do nat mn ittle better than that ugh, - tosee Baron Aunaxt kneel Khel the House of Lords, and poe ge Queen with her NS) “ Now, my old “Tend ad, do Jos “ve Viout aad Tha If your noe pil drowns himself. not have he, and ve as F nay tention of of tendiog “ to the png TH fae So no more at present from bs samp pd a Ha “ Brighton, . “ Barpizcooss Bromptow.” “PS. If A. 8. chooses to take you into his confidence, and through any of your attorney friends you like to put his debts in train for liquidation, I should not much mind lending you some end. But be horribly apne sr gy =e = out of sight and don spoil a salutary process, ZACHARIAS, ve a Brill.” * Note by the Editress, O, papa!—V. aman should |’

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. YE FRIAR OF ORDERS BLACKE. to mee, Why ge goest hy about the towne, Soe strange a sight to see?” “ What pan ae mee look a stranger sight one?” Than mun “Oh! ’tis vay bp my cloke and wide-awake, And ’tis thy sandal shoon. “ And "tis this crosse beneath thy chin, poe - thy shaven coe pas pl upon thy skin, Soe dingy and foule.” Childish eens So tonne, I in these weedes doe goe ; Pn ant He hath ordayned soe. , S Ils He wy ue uy gd dome to wend, That we may be a daily sight Unto the common folke ; “To use them to my freres and me, His Eminence dothe That soe the liefer To owne our Lorde “Bat erst not ow al ed ae manga Dp fair, oh! st fair, pas soathe T doe nit minds, °° ‘or persecu as But joy therein do finde,” “ Yea butt, yea butt, thou reverend friar, on thou dost cause, Adventurest to breake the And dost transgress the lowes “T doe not Obs' Or For —- =e er pile gots be ‘Sock whoop and —==_————— —— _ 4 WHAT I SAW AT THE DIGGINGS, (By ome who has mentally visited them.) cana Where Lisnbeasior ¢ eo ee haw ser g eir own business I many mas to some purpose | [se fate of tas citer rovane ed ellen \ cay onsen “weed up” Ed clacton Tv se Oren stony ona _ pyraniapady meena jae epragrean evidence to show that one for enterprise, was now—the Gold Field. hie Soba QUESTIONS FOR CANDIDATES. don’t vote for anybod eo of Gamera sum. Look i nelcwtnlan Jou wa for «perp A Favourable Symptom. We met congratulate our , the Mark Lane Lapress, | w having = oe to find that in speaking are of the Eant oy Deasy’s speech upon “ Compromise,” its com- | ments end, somewhat naively, thus : | cade a een en ae Spon bran Gat Go eaeet farmers may not find them- The aim, & 2 pois to sey, are not ours. They denote | emphatically the maiden effort, and so disarm our criticism. But in | truth we are too | stories that it indeed immeasurabl

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zg | 26 ___ PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVART. i ) “thse ¢ | — i “at 1 I Alli Mi Satta. nieeeage- i rae A ey é sf he 3 1, i! iii) ) nN y ; ih of Ts iy i it Le = ¥e i 7 ] it iS 4 ANG i I We i 1 t| hi | i | | HORRIBLE INCIDENT IN REAL LIFE. As THE SERVANTS ARB GonE To Bep, THe Master or THE HovsE ENDEAVOURS TO GET A LITTLE Bit or SUPPER FOR HIMSELF. He CAN’? CONCEIVE WHERE THE Deuce Tuz THInGs Ake ALL Kerr; AND HE IS ALMOST TORN TO PIECES BY THE Buack Natives or THE KITCHEN. “It may be urged that the Natives, as represented in the Tableau, are small in proportion to the other olyects ; but, as they are not agreeable creatures, it was vibes advisable to keep them down in size.) in some instances by persons of the first sguneae in the kingdom: nevertheless ms ‘ Nu the humble are neither despised nor neglected, as the sick rare regularly and A REV EREND COMET. | attentively visited in every period of the year. If all is well, the whole course will jet: 4 by the Fourth Sabbath of N ber.” Or all the wonderful a that ever appeared in the Dum/ries| oper ee pres Courier, the most wonderful is an advertisement, recently published, | The allusion to the “ persons in the higher ranks of life,” the use of purporting to be put forth by a a lat who is actually “ starring it the present for the past tense, the incom ility of congregations in the provinces.” It begins by informing those whom it may concern, being attended without any accusation of vanity, the singular distine- that tion between the majority of the higher ranks, and the few consisting THE REV. DAVID M. GILLESPIE begs leave to intimate that he! of the—servant, of “ persons of the first respectability in the kingdom,” betray the hand | intends to Preach over the different Congregations of this diocese, on the exact ‘ H H ‘ i ame dape ov pestede ef. the pene phan Geiad to Galo pails ’ The peculiar candour of Jenxrns also shines like any boot in the | following : As he means to preach over them, it is to be hoped his sermons will! «ps. p, M. G. intimates, that if the weather should berainy—in any place (even | confirmed not do them any harm. Let that pass. The announcement proceeds : | where sermon is advertised)—if it should be a: or day, he need not be expected; for, however gratifying it "has often been to him to see ‘N.B.—He will Preach at Guencartx Quay (when the company comes down to | °*7) me ’ mt ~~ quarters) on the First Sunpay or Avaust in the Evening; and at the pose tl gg opm in the rain awaiting pm ot pn oe ae Water or Carcey (his owa beautiful and romantic spot), Canoes Barpor, on the as ni » vill ae win a tii ~ Naty - Sxconp Sunpay of Avoust. At both places Psalms and Prayers will begin at 6 | ee ithbant aed — yy clock precisely. At the latter place several respectuble peace-oflicers will be | benk, nese Dusttien, 5 a in attendance as usual.” JeNKINS does not mind owning the delight which he derives from the We read and re-read this paragraph with a strange feeling which, for | sense of attractive. He frankly says it is gratifying to him to | along time, we could not define. Gendually the indistinct emotion | see crowds of people standing waiting for him in the rain ; albeit, that leveloped itself into the reminiscence of an old friend. Who was he | to partake of their soaking would be “ most pernicious to his health, that was to preach at Glencaple Quay—but not until the season “ when | which Yoh would not stand it.” ha cae of their health not standing it the company comes down to sea-hathing quarters?” Who could it be | — does not seem to have to him: this little inconsiderate- but our old friend Jenxins? Yes: it is a clear case. Jenxtns has | ness he may have learned in genteel families. cast the plush, and put on the cloth—the Seotch cloth, which we| What sort of orders Mx. Junxins can have received, different presume is a sable variety of the tartan: donned the surplice 1u the from those mandates which he has been accustomed to, some may place of the shoulder-knot. Mx. Jewxuvs has entered the service of | pe: but so genteel a person should be nothing less than a | the Church—where some, however, may consider that he is still out are as the histrionic style of his advertisement indicates him to of place. Doubtless Gu.Lesriz is but an alias for Jewxoys: but, if| be—a Tractarian, ultimately developed into a strolling parson. We there were any doubt about the matier, ths next paragraph would | would advise him, by the way, to drop his assumed name : there are settle it : hot Seotchmen of the name of Grutesrre, and if he does not “ These congregations, since their commencement (it is well known). are usually mind, he may get something which his hand is familiar with laid across attended by P persons in the higher ranks of life: and without any accusation of heemnds 4 his shoulders.

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PT i Y LA) i@ ALL hh wn -~2m-{ wd hava hoy 7 WT? 4 “ip jMrr are] hus FJ ° hoy

Au | i) @ - MU \ Wal \ \ NA Vall = = eo < Zz 2 =) = -) ~~ eo —) — es © moO TR © = | = ==) cS les = N N = — Zz oS —) oO ALi

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 29

besides the boards ; that t het ther b EMPLOYMENT OF PAUPERS AT ELECTIONS. aay eee es) tee St. Pawcras—on the mation of a ;vestryman—has contributed a| “Honoured Sir,—Hearing that paupers, » we avo all called (for which certain number of paupers to carry election boards im the cause of | thank machinations of Marylebone Lorgp Dupisy Sruaat and ‘'o. B. Hatz; | the may thank the Free rade "Tee the School, who are to be of ex , oe | proper liberality, Knowledge, which it isn’t ing that be called lik which Punch offers . i oe : eral | Kaowlodan, whieh & ie’? —henring tht oor moh tragele or Mz. Spoowzs (can this be NewpgGats’s Sroomsn ?) strongly, thongs | Protection—in their glorious attempts to dispel the Fog of Peelism vainly, “ ee a re myprceding | most evident from the Tree ‘Trade h letters—(all from | slave-grown sugar. Thaé ruthless measure (for, I assure you it was Unions)—lying us. Seeing that has multiplied the | go¢ j owing ing losses at Turm ’s Betting- number of the poor ; seeing that the terns of CopDEN amp | petidbesyitn A - I babe Sos a. oben lake court) —that y Co. has em our cupboards, and filled o uses, it is an | measure, that whilst it sugar also rivetted the iron of the admirable i r with the justest An ll that the pa England sh if needed, turn out to a man, to carry a Protection shall be eal foo hear 40 upon an election holiday, in the sacred majority strong ond triumphant on their backs to Parliament. cause of Deny, Dispaz1i, , and “Union 1s Strenotu!” “ Your obedient Servant, Such, indeed, may be the proud motto, for the nonce, of the Denny “Justiviay Fiees.” Cabinet ; with its army of placarded paupers arrayed against the Free- booter Free Trade. Meany FO —i rite i> Sem ieee Sen, shal bo Ecapie to doo With this preface, we proceed to lay before the reader copies of a | anithin for MR. DIZBLY ben aon onn save the few of the letters received by Mr. Punch from certain inmates of | kuntrie from! freetrad wad hi snopt Puen in a certain Unions, all burning to enrol themselves of the army of Denny; | Tariffe he was wurser than Guy wi y —#- - barl. i then their ardour kindled by a sense of injury committed upon them by Free | kep 7 donkeys wen Snost lette inn Asses bea sethin wich he cald fre- Trade. It will be seen that every writer, to a man, owed his | trad—2 off mie donkeys fel sick from that tim wich nott toe be teadyes pauperism to Peet, Coppsgx, and Free Trade. giv the Siknes the wthe wher § vie a en Pas ns S then ever ae = —K wl a noo siknis. eS Sa RY t, nose id “ Ma. Puxcu,—I was one of the smallest of farmers, with an English- | donkeys i's was ain, So come wae ott, his nos wich _ +. 4 == man’s fireside, two hunters, and a d piano = my daughter (who so } after tuther alle dyed off—the Tarriff and no mistak rl ya fo and the ‘wom ty. 5 ore ee me from uy beer “lou ot “tredde onn a wurm an iwi turnne : i oe fp cone ats hack ke roker’s. is,— n t FreeTrade As if Bri he Temeatt teens te ho co id live and belie bordes for DEBBIE, ane pene on “ BDIN upon black bread, like Iceland serfs and Polish refugees. shevwlers, i am ewer um e servin, tae bony ean hs Ee ashe cnamendin us all ow we may once again send w upto) “ 8. daunt think ter Punch tood av a purty effeck if the wholesome 70s. a quarter, and put his Lordship for life—with | on Sune i aceepent hevan boordes on TF teste to show Mr. Disraz1t to help oe ‘the Cabinet of his country. the opes and prospecks offe pertexion in theyre trew kullurs ? ” “ Up with the loaf, and down with Conpen ! Satine 4 rE - — “ Jouxn G Lad e have felt it our duty to give ters as a sample of t a 7) Comms and shall be happy ia Sau an the names of . Unions to those tionist irous con of em- “ Sir—For a hundred soa ears and more, me and my family was water-| ploying,"as illustrative » heron, none but Pro sonst victims. men on the Thames : we have four prize badges, which was the pride of , - —— - first won in 9 my Poll by py —. — ; ree an tamperin’ with the Navigation ws—partic’larly the west a Lave—sent | em to the powabscker's where » course they THE FARMER AND THE ACROBATS. was lost, and is since to the meltin’-pot, as ritannia’s . roi eon, et sly ie Nevrn] 4 UMroa trsetrese

eth Tepealed—and lll be dred end by Ma. G. F. Youre—there itl was seven thousand five hundred twenty-one happy waterman’s The nding jumping over flags at full speed, wherries on the flourishing Thames (not counting them os we And the gals, tight-rope dancing, all spaugies, I seed. building), and now, for seven thousand, there isn’t—as |’m told, and witnessed Merriment through a hoss-collar = be Judged by Mz. Youne again—there isn’t seventy ; all the rest iu he also the balance a pole upon his chin ; on, oy hoo with rats in’em as big as buck rabbits, and all But what my admiration in m9 ree Trade, which will give us over, bound hand and foot, to the Was the ’stonishing performance they called Acrobacks. proud and ram foreigner. Pel. Punch yo the waterman’s wherry to te the Ark of the| As one a top 0” other I see them fellers stand Constitootion ; not only that, but the heart and soul of the British | Thinks I—That’s like the by the Land, na go the acorn is to the British oak, so is the waterman’s wherry There be Denny and Drzzy at the top of the tree, tothe Br ie the and where's the tree Lad tho dings down Valve wo uniaintas ‘an, be vo : tish three-decker. tras grants Poll, where's Newson’s Victory 7 made ‘armers to climb, “ And so l’llcarry anything for Lonp DexBy—anything to get out of had = pen en all ti ere song ne, —

the Union for a day or two’s lark, and to show to a down-trod people how Bev pane to be put upon by Cospzw. No Navigation Laws p tick ems > an wo inne warns, | be tole, "em a bold! “ So your humble servant, ee “Tuomas Tus. MOTTO FOR DR, NEWMAN.

“I s’pose his lordship and Bewpizzy will stand "bacea and beer! “ Infelix puer, atque imper congressus Acuttii.”—dincid L,, 475,

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form, we leave to offer the followi to the Judges, th | Beer Te etl er wing samples ges, the PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL OE re —+ . Lee. Urol ng * * that hous Wd, hr | ’ * ’ O44 } | Oy fig, . ae 4 UHM a ce sein aaa. THE POLITICAL SHOE-BLACK. Averria, “ What's your charge?” Lorn M—1ts—sury,. “ OA, I make no charge; any little compensation will do for me,” JUDICIAL CLAP-TRAPS. Aw impetus has lately been ia to the waning interest of the pro- ceedings in Westminster by the conversion of the Court of Queen’s Bench into a sort of t in which some of the fine old clap-traps that have long been banished from the stage as obsolete, have been reproduced with an effect truly marvellous. The superior | courts have been recently such “wretched business ””—to make | use of at | term—that the principal ac who have been the | recognised “ pn dang ” for the last ten years, have been cut down | to less than half ies, while the County Courts have been attracti | crowds to their doors. The high Jp have, no doubt, contribute materially to the desertion of the old established concerns, — have “ usiness” indeed sometimes been closed, in consequence of the having become so bad as to have dwindled to none atall. The lega! season has however been wound up a few “extraordinary per- formances,” in which a new feature bas introduced in the shape of a series of judicial clap-traps, some of which told most effectually with the audience; though we very much doubt whether they; are calculated to add permanently to the reputation of the actors, or to exalt the theatre in the opinion of the public. As it is not unlikely that the example which has been set this season will be followed in ire next, we beg leave to state that we shall be ready to supply judicial clap-traps for the use of the Bench, forensic clap-traps for the Bar, constitutional, commercial, and general clap-traps for jurymen, and miscellaneous clap-traps for witnesses or other persons concerned. As we do not wish to profess more than we can prove our ability to ic in general. A JUDICIAL CLAP-TRAP, ~ A witness having been sworn, who says that he is a sheriff's officer, the following scene occurs :— The Judge. This man is an officer of the sheriff. Counsel. He is, my Lord. code that once existed in this country, but which exists no . (Applause,) 1 am not afraid of being supposed to sanction that code because I admit this man as a witness, for we live, a milder state of things; and Heaven forbid that we should ever see the severities of that code restored. (7remendous applause, which nobody attempts to check.) 1 repeat, that I have no ensions in admitting this wey 3 bog td that - b nas }% times. (Fainter , which t o tempts to stimulate, say again, we enjoy the blessings of a more humane system ; and I receive the evidence of this sheriff’s officer, without fear of being sw to sympathise with symbol. (No applause instantly the cruelties of which his calling was once : at all, with murmurs of “Too much of it,” which the Judge i checked.) A FORENSIC CLAP-TRAP. The cause for trial is an action by one quack doctor against another for d sustained in the violation i pretended specific to cure every disease. Counsel, It may be said, gentlemen of the jury, that my client is a Pretender! A Pretender—let me dwell upon that word! Happil may now dwell upon it in these ; animosities, lighting up the old bonfires of passion, whose human heart, or [ may now dwell upon the word Pretender the suspicion of party feeling, and without being c with a desire to set brother against brother, or to plant the cousin’s hand in the kins- man’s heart. ving said thus much, gentlemen of the jury, I confi- dently leave the result between your consciences and yourselves. (Much cheering followed the learned counsel’s having taken his seat.) CLAP-TRAP FOR A JURYMAN, The jury having been desired to withdraw to consider their verdict, the following scene ensues :— a me I fear we shall not agree, my Lord. Judge. 1 can’t help that, gentlemen. Juryman, But, my Lord, donot misunderstand me. I feel that I am a part—nay, a twelfth—of the greatest of Britain’s bulwarks, and rather than come to an unconscientious decision, I would let my parched tongue lie languid on my quivering lip, and my weary eye close on my pale cheek, until exhausted nature sinking into sl murmur out a righteous verdict in my dreams. (Hurrah / in which the waiters in the robing-room join.) The above specimens will satisfy those to whom we offer our services, that we are able to fulfil any contract we may enter into for the supply of clap-traps to Westminster Hall, should the system commenced in the present season be continued in the next. Pe , however, those who are entrusted with the — management will be induced to re-con- sider the subject, and if materials for such re-consideration are to be found - what we a - have cera who qty principal actors, as well as to the public in general, who, t have applauded once, might not be disposed to do the same thing again. PANCRAS PAUPERS AND POLITICS. Tue Vestrymen of St. Pancras have come toa resolution granting the use of several paupers to go about with boards announcing meet to promote the re-election of the late Members for Marylebone. We presume the political opinions of the paupers will be consulted, for it will be rather bard to make a Conservative pauper carry a Whig placard, and thus turn him into a walking lie, by putting Liberalism on hia back and stomach, while he may have Chartism, Protectionism, or some other -ism at his heart. e must confess we do not by any means see what right the Vestrymen have to turn the paupers into dead walls, and stick bills all over them in the manner proposed. The poor would, we think, have a right to remonstrate a st such treatment : for, even if they receive lodging from the they are not obliged to have such a description of board thrust upon them as they will, it seems, be called upon to accept. The Rains and the Races. Aut the “ events ” have come off in such thorough drenchers this season, that we question if the year 1852 ought not henceforth to ) Te Racing Calendars as being, par in Year, A NOTE AND A QUERY. A Corrgsponpert has written us a note asking us why the Qurew “ pricks for sheriffs?” We are unable to give the reason, unless it be The Judge. In allowing him to be received as a witness, I cannot forget that the sheriff is charged with the office of execution in a double that there is such a poor choice as to leave only a pin to choose between them. sense; but I do not recognise him now as the Pee, wend happy days without raking up old | ifying old sores, whose seat was the human bosom. without exposing myself to —

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARTVARI. RETROSPECT OF PARLIAMENT. E rts i ] ail EF; ef i i! i ty call Te ar : 5 Fs al \\\ (‘i =a : i wi a ic if : \ (ull ee) I ty ef? & : =z F F 4a " i \ | in { \\ ni i Hf 1 ime i ititat mlTHtt iit 4 “Bats Orr, Srnancens! . . would be weil if any cure could be found for the — in any of those substances analogous to guano, that are vaunted as specifics for this natural baldness in terms which may be described as balderdash. otwithstanding the depression under which Agriculture has, unfortunately, laboured, the inevitable operation of time, in causing the furrow to make its appearance where it was before unknown, will be diseovered by many of us on reference to the looking-glass. It may be hoped that the wrinkles we have got as we have grown older, are not altogether of a physical nature, but may, in some measure, be regarded as acquisitions in that knowledge and enlightenment which are, or ought to be, characteristic of an advancing age. : (seas = suppressed but smouldering discontent and rebellion, we have presented a aspect of serenity to Europe, and multitudes of individuals among us, in whose aspect at t popes the defunct Parliament there was nothing particular, may now be regarded i as exhibiting undeniable spectacles. ’ - Numerous additions have been made to the domestic happiness of those of Hum Maszery’s subjects who have entered, before or since the commencement of the past Parliamentary period, into the my relation. With these legislation may be thought to have little to do; but there is no doubt that | enlargement of the loaf, and the reduced price of other provisions, have, in many instar rendered those events augmentations of the happiness of domestic life, which would otherwise have been aggravations of its misery. THE GOLDEN RAGE. _ Cunrarnty, if the letters of “our own correspondents” be letters of credit, the affairs of Australia just now are in what may literally be termed a precious mess. Gold is still the prevailing epidemic, and we doubt if even the influenza has ever been so popular. The entire colony, it seems, bas | the infection, and is breaking out in “ diggings ” everywhere. — ; Meanwhile, the social — is obvious, of course. Society for the nonce is | turvyfied, and the Heads of the people are sinking rapidly beneath the people’s feet. of are filially wheeled to court in chairs; and shepherds kindl employers in the capacity of “good plain cook.” & | weight in gold.” That comparatively is a cheap commodity, and may be had anywhere—for the digging. But a new servant is procurable for neither love nor money ; should an old one condescend to stay, he’s pretty sure to give himself about as many airs as an opera singer, and to take French leave of you whenever it may suit him. Doeially considered, therefore, this glut of gold is a positive nuisance: domestically productive of many a “case of real distress,” and daily adding proof of the proverbial wisdom of the words | “ Pembarras des richesses.” | Tue Best Sreaxer.—The reporters call Cursnotm Anstsy “ out and out the best Speaker in the House,” for he no sooner begins to speak than the House is counted out. Brn As It Should Be. Amone the “recent additions” Mapamz Tussaup sawp Sons’ i announced

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32 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. GENTLEMEWS SEATS TO BE LET. Ne POPPOCK is honoured with instructions to YL three, five, six, or seven years, as the case may be—a a aot a few Gent Lemen’s SEATS, in a hw A populous and, he tay add, AE | very historical neighbourhood. The price of the seats varies from THE MODEST FIGURE oF £500 TO THE MORE ARISTOCRATIC sum oF £6000. But it is the peculiarity of the sale, that whatever the amount, the IMPORTANT PRIVILEGES BESTOWED Are oné and the same; the Seat making the Man, not the Man the Seat. | The Neighbourhood is at once busy, solemn, popular and historic. WESTMINSTER'S SAXON ABBEY, Even some miles off, looms beautifully in the distance; whilst its | proximity to the GewTrLemen’s Seats TO Be Disposep or, cannot but | | excite within the breast of the Patriot “thoughts that do often lie too | deep” for fluent expression. The Gentleman Purchaser may finally sleep in that Abbey, and—for Ma. Porrock’s failing is @ too unworldly candour—and he may nof, THE STATUE OF GEORGE CANNING, a In its immortal coat of classic verdigris, grasps the Roll of Fame, and indicates to the Gentleman Purchaser (of one of the Seats aforesaid) the Pedestal that may lie or loom, which is now the same thing, i before him, 36 THE FRETTED ROOF OF WESTMINSTER HALT, et With its many associations of Hastines, Busxe, and Suenrpas, to say es next to nothing of THE EMINENT JUDGES OF THE LAND, Are among the Historical Objects and Persons continually inviting the Fee > amma of the Purchasers of the Seats at this moment in the market, ¥ THE THAMES, LIKE A SILVER EEL IN MUD, =f Winds along the Frontage of the Seats, and, flowing downward to that 7 | Sea, where : BRITANNIA RULES THE WAVES, ‘ Can never fail to keep alive (despite of Peace Societies) an undying - | interest in the British Navy; an Interest aniversal, whether in— re THE BABE AT THE BREAST, | OF in THE BUOY AT THE NORE ! The Air of the Seats to be Disposed of is of every variety of tempe- rature, from dena ie THE ARDOUR OF THE STROCCO, | to the keenness of A POLAR BLAST; Hence, all and every Constitution may be duly accommodated—but the British Constitution in particular. AS THE SEATS MUST BE SOLD | Without awy Reserve whatever, Gentlemen proposing to be Pur- chasers are requested to be early in the Market. The only Qualification | is a Cheque-Book, and “ faith of a Christian;” therefore — at present—no gentleman of the Hebrew Persuasion need apply. Gentlemen Purchasers will be allowed to aflix to their names, the | time-honoured ietters of M. P.; | Which to vulgar apprehension (but there is an inner meaning, a deeper mystery in them) means MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT; but read by the cognoscenti, otherwise the knowing ones, signify } M—UsT P—ay. Barly applications must be made. Apply at Reform and Carlton Clubs. [Vioat ina ; No Money Returned. A DISMAL LOOK-OUT FOR PROTECTION. Somenopy advertises ey: for the waistcoat pocket, the size of a ata | walnut, and so powerful, rson looked at through it may be and known at distance of a sate cy py nie i know! ) and a half. ‘his is an instrument, | which, if it does what it professes, will be invaluable at the ensuing elections, for there are many of the whom it is very desirable | to know, if mot to see, and whom, when known, it will to keep at a distance of a mile and a half at least. e strongly recommend this glass to the Protectionist voters—if there should happen to be any—and who will be possibly to recognise the sculhing “toning” ser OF stoning to Me” Dusnanet which something is peculiarly adapted to being looked at in the distance, for it will never get an inch nearer if it were loo of—for | Tie glass is evidently intended for the agricultural int r i that is,| professes to show “country scenery at from 12 to 14 miles.” This is tna a hit at the remoteness of i interest, icultural prospects in — ” doubt the distance alluded to z to be measured as so much nda. ked at for twenty years. lor it general, and we SIMPLE SIMONY. A BALLAD BY CATNACH THE YOUNGER. Now come, you Bishops all that sit as spiritual peers, Grant me the bengemry loan of your right reverend ears; To you I will a tale unfold ’tis fitting you should know, A most gross case related in the Times by 8. G. O. At the end of last November a living vacant fell, With duties of importance—for endowment pretty well ; Its population reekoned at one thousand people near, And value said to be about six hundred pounds a year. To give a zealous m work, the Papists there abound, And numbers of issenters in that Epos Samy | a A nunnery, with Popish priests, and meeting-houses twain, The rectory of Spettisbury-with-Charlton doth contain. The patron is a gentleman of riches and of lands, Who represents a borough, which is snugly in his hands ; There’s a way of sellirg boroughs so as Bribery Laws to do, And there are means whereby you may dispose of livings too. Now when this goodly living with so many souls to cure, Fell vacant, most men would conclude ’ twas given, to be sure, Unto some powerful preacher who was equal to the place, Some able-bodied clergyman, at least, in any case. A man above fourscore, instead, was named the post to fil!, And instituted—it may be against the bishop’s will— A good old — gentleman as could be well desired, But many a year from residence and active work retired. This wonderful preferment, as doth 8, G. O. —. Is nothing but a dodge contrived for luere and for gain ; Because a vacant living is forbidden to be sold, The trick is to bestow it on a man infirm and old. Then its next presentation is a marketable thi thing, And the older the incumbent, why of the more ’twill bring ; What a very fiae distinction do your | | doctors draw, Between what’s simony in fact, and simony in law! Oh! you right reverend fathers in the Upper House, declare, This scandal having been 90 long, at bus have you there ? Whatever it may be, you seem to let it — alone, Can you attend to any who so little mind your own?

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL THE HERO OF THE HUSTINGS. =~ However strange the cir- a || == OO Ame So70 yet PLACARDS FOR PLAIN DEALERS. Evew true Britons will, at election times, march about with placards, - taunt . Launch’d also HE or“ oiem upon ustings stood For two hours of a sum- mer’s a feat of 1 And shouted forth, and saw'd the air with all his force and might, The temperature higher than a hundred, Faun- RENHEIT. The sun above him blazi froma blueunelouded . He frying like a sausage that could feel itself id dogs; and like- wise, it is true, cumstance, that he was dripping, too. The undeveloped offspring of the gallinaceous tribe, The free and independent with many a and gibe, at the can- didate’s unvenerated head, And frequently advised him to go home and go to bed. Not only did this hero spout thus long upon his legs, And brave the sun, the uy py-dogs, the kit- ns, and the : Not only he inourr'd the to fry ; It rain’d upon him cats | called and THE NEW SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE. A sopr not lightly to be named— for its title is heavy reading—the Acting Committee of the National Association for the Protection of Industry and Capital throughout the British has issued an address “To the Protectionists of the United Kingdom.” Any expenditure of criti- cism on this document would be super- fluous, inasmuch as its value, like the purport of a lady’s letter, is mainl apparent in its postscript, whic represents it as dated from the South Sea House. Perhaps people were not generally aware that Protection is another South Sea Scheme, although they may have known weil enough that it was no better than the imposture so Electioneering Harmony. Bayps of music, consisting of drums and trumpets, we are informed by the ag age sundry towns at the late elections. Where this was not exactly the case, the trumpet was generally blown on the hustings by the proprietor of that instrument, and the drum was for the most also very audible ; not the kettle drum, nor the big drum, but the hum-drum, where- with the various candidates regaled the ears of the constituencies to an unprecedented extent. A Light from the Altar. Tue Lisbon press—according to the Post—comments on the indecency of one of the Minister's friends, who, accompanying the politician on a visit. to a church, “pulled out a cigar, lit it at the Jamp before the altar, and commenced smoking it.” We are sorry to say that we can, im very merry y » c with various mottos and party-words; but ecrati with native common sense they will desire to make such demonstra- a ions of the England, parallel the indecency. How tional displays as little unmeaning and ridiculous as possible. A few | But lost aboveathousand | ™&2y mong us, ladies included, have hints towards rendering these exhibitions the more clearly and truth- moreover, by | lighted worse things than cigars in fully significant, will perhaps be acceptable. The Protectionists, there- | the job. Protestant Churches, and not at lamps, fore, particularly as they pride themselves on being a bluff, above-board | but at candles? Can Ma. Bewwerr party—should declare their objects explicitly by inscribing on their Such lots of money, forti- | himself count the number ? ee = Taxes ! fr ? a + é Horses ! ~ he Yachting!” ude, exertion, pluck, eee “ Places er Government!” “ Fat Livings!” “ Commissions in and nerv , the Army and Navy!” “Boxes at the Opera!” and so on, with the | It costs to 4 Seth) Se eee ——- list of i with which Corn Laws and such like statutes are | lege those gentlemen| My pean Cotowet,—If Govern- calculated to endow the aristocracy; whilst the Liberal party might | to serve, ment should draw a goose for the blazon their colours with the specification of necessaries and comforts | Who yell at you, and pelt | Militia, will they also truss him ? procured for the people by the operation of Free Trade, as “ Bread!” | you with all sorts of “ Beef!” “Mutton!” “Veal!” “Ham!” “Sugar!” “Tea!” nasty things ; Tu Paorectionist Toast.—Your “Coffee!” “Tobacco!” “Snuff!” “Vinegar!” “ Pepper |” “Hats!” | Surely a seat in Parlia-| true Protectionist eats, and drinks too, “Coats!” “Trowsers!” “Shirts!” “ Handkerchiefs!” whereunto ment some vast en-| no other Toast than that of “Dear might be added, “ Boots and Shoes to the Rescue! ” joyment brings ! Breap.” Another New Constitution. Right in the Main. Louis Napotzon has been trying his hand at a Constitution, and | has fixed upon a very congenial locality for his labours. He has, in act, been giving a Constitution to Algeria, and he begins by declaring that “ Frenchmen are to enjoy in Algiers the same civil rights as they enjoy in their own country.” This is a bit of humour we did not give Louis Naroxzoy credit for. The civil rights “enjoyed” by the French may be a very fair subject for a joke; but the idea of putting Algiers | iy on a political equality is rather too near the truth to be quite | agreeable. THE FIVE SHILLING DUTY. We think every Protectionist who expects to see it inflicted must be also in a similar state, for we cannot imagine any man entertaining any | such absurd proposition in his sober senses. not so bad or unmeaning may be Bs fusking of the obstruction. Ir has been | Protection has 1 Logp Marpstone’s notion of “the Deluge after Lonp Densy,” is ing after all; for an unlimited supply of water is always acceptable after any offensive accumulation, an considered as typical of what may be termed the sewers” of Downing Street, after the removal of any the “ Deluge” JOLLY OBSEQUIES. committed felo de y declared on the hustings that the knell of rung, but Protection in throwing herself on the s¢, and there must be no tolling at her Tuts is the usual fine inflicted at our Police Offices for drunkenness. | On the contrary, a good merry peal would be the most fitting accom- | paniment to that ceremony. funeral “ Farewps at a Piscu.”—A pair of tight boots. VOL. XXIII. gE

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34 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. RUPERT’S RIDE TO THE COUNTRY. A BALLOON SHOWING ITS AIRS. . . Tue veteran Mus. Granam was to have ascended in a balloon the YE, they have gone to the | other day for the some-hundred-and-somethingth time, when the balloon, country; but since | in » fit of excessive buoyancy, started off without her. Afier tumbling horses first were made, | about in the air for a considerable time, and reaching an elevation so Sure md hn 4 > ow ae to make —— a imagine ous it was ys . ness unatic, was exemplifying the union of “ out of sight” and “ out o' cavaleade mind,” the balloon seems to have become eonseious of the folly of its Poets must invoke the own freak. and'te have “eullt tte ciden” Gi “ak, plit its sides” with am overpaieful sense of uses; 90 1 call the! the ludicrous. rot We are glad that the veteran aeronaut remained on Dexsr Mews . , | terra firma, 80 that the emptiness of these aeronsatical exploits was To ng those bolters, blind | ijjustrated in a double sense, without doing any injury to‘any one. uns, roarers, cock -tails, | and screws. —— Oa a dark horse for the first Purity of Election. time gallant Rurext, Owise to the general institution of baths and washkouses (whieh deigns to show ; this periodical has been so instrumental in bringing abet), it hasbeen Extremely rum to look at, observed with much pleasure by friends of the people, that the shows and by no means good | of hands at the different nominations were much more satisfactory this _ to go: _ |eleetion than they used to be. The partial prevalence, however; of His name unknown — his bribery and corraption has rendered it impossible'to’ say that all con- pedigree, by Protection | stituencies, or Members either, exhibited perfeetly clean tow a out o m— Slow and hard-mouthed like ey his ‘sire, and a shier! TARGE RETURNS AND SMALL’ PROFITS. Dark Dizzy rides beside | —eas W® suspect that many of the him, on a most eccen- | trie steed— By Place out ¢ moe neal Gomrin Ase beast 3 An uncommonly good goer, but so skittish, w e goes, Tis a toss-up which is foremost—his tail-piece or his nose. But, of all the horses ever foal’d, commend me to the screw, That contrives to carry MaALMEsBURY, with more than much ado ; By Pis-aller out of Nullity—how pick’d up, I ne’er could learn— Bad legs, bad head, bad action—bad, in short, from stem to stern. Mild WaLroue jogs alongside, extremely ill at ease; His nag looks more like going, but is queer about the knees, By Good Temper out of Common Place ; and, spite of Rurear’s frown. | it’s ten to one, the first rough bit, that WaLPote’s cob comes down. Cautious and sober, in the rear, with a good hand on the rein, Rides Pakineton, whose steed cuts quite a figure in the train ; sy Pluck out of old Common Sense, well known for a safe blood, Though, thank the line that Rupgat takes, he must stick in the mud. Bat who’s this preux chevalier, young, graceful, debonnaire ? Manners ever make the man, why then the man is there. His steed got by Romance out of Reality, but foaled in the moyen age—himself too young, and his blood a deal too old. candidates at the elections have been consulting the racing for scarce! a man gone to the poll who has not declared his own name asa “certainty” for the winner; There has pro- bably been a amount of aan ea, hieh promising » whie the event’ has: not realised. No one was so confident of winning as “Conryenam for Westminster,” who not only declared his intention to be at the head of the poll, but was already coquetting with the premiership ia posse, and paving his way to Downing Street by refusing to pledge himself absolutely against being a member of the Govern- ment. We understand he had : — SS alread several And what top-booted worthy comes pounding on at speed, ready oem tr : On a rough-legged, bis-boned cory enemy of the real Chowler breed ; ” : y , pe me ny : = By Pig-head out of Slow-coach? *Tis CunistorHeR, misled | whieh he was learning to porn paste ms sve p: By notions of fixed duty, looming very far a-head. | offieial experience. He had, it is said, been practising wae we |ease, which he rapped repeatedly with his knuckles by way of The ruck comes hard behind him: see, tight in his pig-skin, ‘accustoming himself to the use of an official dispateh-box. He has, Sits BeresrorD, in seat and style, type of Ex-Whipper-in ; | however, received a rap of the knuckles of another kind from the lhere’s Kxixy, tailor-fashion, uneasy in his perch, | electors of Westminster. Having, in imagmation, installed himself as And yawing, every now and then, with a most tremendous lurch. _@ member of the Cabinet, he will now have ~ perform aes ~ Here come the Treasury Lordlings, on their leggy lathy weeds, Sr ae brag og creer anal cin bends for the last Of course they ’re not worth dwelling on—riders no more than steeds— ants baleen his own looking-glass, and he may now amuse himself by Nor the Trottorgs nor the Jouirres—of whom all ons can say delivering up his seals—unfastening them from his wateli-chain, and Is, they ’d better make the best on’t, as they are oat for the day. | passing them from his right hand to his left—as an emblem of his And now ov ’re past, from first to last : it is a sorry sight ; | visionary fali from an ideal altitude. Let ’s hope there Tbe no bones broke before they all alight. — ea Sut take them all in all, men and mounts, one cannot doubt test Cine (Whate’er they may do now) their mothers soon will kaow they’re out. Delos! Genes | A wew order of politicians is soliciting the suffrages of the free and a | independent, under the designation of Liberal Conservatives. This is not a very fortunate title, since it is one that may be most fairly claimed Great Forgetfulness. by the old Tories, who, at election time, used to scatter guineas and Tue Matmessuny Motto is “Ubigue patriam reminisci.” His | Set taps flowing in bebalf of Conservatism with extreme liberality. Lordship has a very curious way of acting up to his motto. We en oe fener is 2: nao . a “ Ubique,” for it is very | THE COOLEST THING. Ser Sa’ in toe ATEED Hammers be avery poor recollection of; [ozs the reader wish to know the coolest thing in this hot weather? 7 country. Without wishing to be too severe, we may say that LoxD | |¢ js the coolness of the Morning Herald, who pr s for Dexsy’s three MatmesBuRY not only forgot England, but himselt also. months’ administration the increase in the quarter’s revenue! Now that is so cool, Mrs. Gamp herself might ice small beer with it. Arnorism vor Law Rerornuers.—We don't owe County Courts to County Members. SeasonaBLe INTeLLiGENce.—Ma. FLexmore gave the “ Mantle of | Sarieeune ™ a good beating yesterday to prevent the moths getting into il,

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARIT. 3é A SERPENT FOR THE POPE’S BRASS BAND. AN ELECTION ROAR FROM THE BRITISH ‘To the Editor of the Tablet. vorpaM Frrexp,—In your of July 3, you attribute the riots at Stcekport to the Gevern- ment’s proclamation against«pa- pistical processions. if a6 gentleman accustomed to trail it and get his broken, you would, in like manner, ascribe his misfortune to the caution which had been givemte him, and not to his contempt thereof. ; i 7 : The language wherein you couch this accusation is so excellent a specimen of your style, that I must call your attention to it, and ask you whether, if ge you cannot contrive to write a little more rancorously, maliciously, slanderously. You say “Lorp Dserey and Mr. Watrour have drawn their first blood at Stockport. They have thus.done what they attempted to do. They issued the proclamation against processions and vestments, to | encourage, at the hazard of bloodshed, the anti-Catholic bigotry which they hoped would bring them a few more votes at the elections, and the result is what they foresaw and foreknew. It is our that never was outrage and murder more deliberately planned than the Steckport owtrages marders—not, of course, in that exact locality—were planned by Lonp Derny and Ma. Wacrous, when they issued th. ir proclamation against the free exercise of the Catholic religion.” You subsequently repeat your charge of murder against the Ministers, thus :— “The Qurew’s speech is just received. It is a vile hypocritical document, such as you might expect from the men whose habitual public acts are speeches that swindle, and proclamations that shed innecent blood. There is, of course, not a word about bestarwed Ireland; but there is some sanctimonious lying about ‘ religious liberty,’ the true comment upon which is the sack of Stockport.’ In your re of your own address to the electors of Meath, you represent yourself as tel them :— “ When an English Member of Parliament is returned, he is returned to hate you, because all his feelings and all his wishes are hostile to your country—he is returned beeause he is an enemy to your church (Loud applause). The consequence is, that the whole system of constitutional, or free govern- ment, which sends members to the House of Commons who ought to be your protectors, is to your interests ; they despise your people; they slander them; they revile your clergy and nuns, and they act as if they were your greatest enemies (hear, hear).”’ In a previous part of the same speech, you assert that “,... we have a Chief Justice in England who hounds on bigoted and ferocions mobs against everything we hold sacred, and tries to make martyrs out of the beastliest apostates.” “ Beastly,” “brutal,” “ guilty wretches,” are the flowers of speech that you are accustomed to seatter on the estant English people; you strain yourself to express the spite and hatred with which you burn against them and their institutions, you labour to inflame the same passions amongst the Christian ' seet, of which your newspaper is one of the chief, if not the most respectable, organs. Now I suppose you flatter yourself that you annoy us in some manner utterance of malignity; we are annoyed thereby; but it is desirable that you should clearly understand how. Did you ever, Quondam Friend, go out shooting on the Moors on a hot day, and in ranging the hea’ her, come suddenly on a fragment of blasted rock, and thereon espy a coiled adder? What emotion arose in your breast on seeing the evil beast rise and hiss, disclosing its nasty pimets aoe If—in your case—it was not sympathy with the reptile; if it was the same feeling as that wherewith human mature in general regards a loathsome snake; then, Quondam Friend, ge precisely the sentiment which you excite in our minds by your abuse. It is true that you have mot, personally, to apprebend such a visitation as the adder invites by wing bis fangs? We do not—whatever you may a | itself in deeds instead of words, and to its legal reward,” we should = fate with some degree of pity—as =o ahead have contemplated that of Gor | Pawxes. We, I say, the mass of Englishmen, look upon your be pee expec- ' torations with simple antipathy and disgust. But the untutored populace is | dangerously exasperated by such apitatel outspittings—these, indeed, are the true | provacatives of Stoe riots. If you wish such scenes repeated, you cannot do! tter than goon with articulate and legible hissings, howls, and yells, which the mob takes to signify the affection of Roman Catholics towards the rest of Her Maszsty’s subjects. Go on—you are very aggravating, doubtless—endeavour you, or blow you to atoms. If your raneour were to wreak! good effect ee r See ear aad gon ve sagmeate ty lial, Popery e a thun ; per’ accompanied $ | tof hich came dlashen, telend, ap my pane | “mmagine, by you, but with any BULCM. | Chancery Suit. LION. With its bands and its beef, and . = so free ; I’m a big beast always, TT d’ye see, Which is always his’n as pays — 7 nail, a blows And with I ties my mane and tail, And backs i What I says or does, or eats or drinks ; —— if ne ay = Soh ’ i deep as a ee vi Wah my tooral looral. - Mas. Lrowess then is a reg’lar saint, And my cubs is fit to paint, ‘ And all the world t such a Lion there aint, As the British—and, neither, I s’pose, there baint, With a tooral-looral. It’s wonderful, then, how the tip-top nobs With the British Lion hobs and nobs ; "Till there’s no such things in the world as mobs, But enlightened electors instead of snobs, With our tooral-looral. So I eats myself hu , and drinks myself dry, For I knows what ’twill come to by and bye; And sometimes I says to myself, on the sly, They must see a deal o’ green in my eye, With their tooral-looral. Instead of flatt’ring and letting me loose, To swill like a hog and to hiss like a goose, I fancies a dose of wholesome abuse To the British Lion might be o’ more use Than their tooral-looral, If they made me less of a hustings tool, ya —— wise while they — _ a a ; instead of rousing, my passions they'd rule, And pack off the poor ish Lion to school, With a tooral-looral. I'll answer for it, if onee they began, To deal upon this here sort of plan, That the British Lion, as fast as he can, Will grow less of a brute and more of a man, With a tooral-looral. Change of Title. Sra rt tte tm ga Me self notorious by never pro ing , has c rd his ie now - ‘himself 2 Loomer into the Hata. e doubt st , judging of the great prophet (“ Sybil,” would be the more correct word), from whom has stolen the designation, whether it will have any upon his prophecies. AGRICULTURAL DISTRESS. ee chamtia G ap tae since ve gone v y my D Dexsy, the distress, as expressed in the farmers’ counte- mances, has been ing terrible to A correspondent assures us has conversed with several upon the subject, and he has never seen such distressing. jooking objects in all his life. Tre. most .assixe Srury yor «4 Six Gows.—A

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Saas ae et i eR A AS DS * os -oymey en yes in — ow . . ns ae ye ene os pees’ te Ct ARR aur = Biron rs we EY NUR ca Hy ¥ Ny att y: , ‘o> PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. PROGRESSIVE POLITICS. Dvurtye the Metropolitan elections last week, it was impos- sible to find a cab that was not plastered over with placards, ‘ | and converted into a sort of political vehicle. A quiet man of business could not obtain a shilling ride without pledging himself during the journey to one or other of the Metro- | en candidates, and exposing himself alternately to the | hurrahs and the brickbats of those with whom the candidate | was either popular or otherwise. We, ourselves, jumped accidentally into an omnibus, which we soon found carpeted _with cabbage leaves, and paved with small pieces of granite thrown in as we passed along, and it was only when we insisted on getting out of such a disagreeable position that we per- ceived on the panel a large label, inscribed with the words, “Plump for Maidstone.” Happily a general election is rare | but if such ceremonies happened once a year, we should call loudly upon the omnibuses and cabs to remain unpledged, and to continue “ on to all, and influenced by none,” so that the unpopularity of particular candidates might not be visited on | the heeds of innocent town travellers. Election Song. Ain—“ Would you gain the tender creature.” Wov tp you gain the doubtful voter, Freely, liberally “treat” him— “Treating” is the Agent’s part. Members now their seats possessing, Owe them to their Club’s finessing, Less than to this simple art. A Picture Overdrawn. ‘portrait of Louis NaPotgon, says, “ The likeness is very good, and the position remarkably easy.” Surely this criticism is self- contradictory, for there cannot be an accurate likeness of Louis NaPo.zon, in which his position is ented as an easy one. First Man of the World. “Heanp or Miss F.—’s Manniuce, Cuanter ?” If we had been told that the attitude in which he is placed is Second do. “An! I Heanp rt Spoken or. I bELIZve 1T was A MaRRIAGE OF | semblance, but as it is, we are convin INCLINATION ON BOTH sIDEs t”’ First do. “Yas! It was a Bap Jos. Tuoszk Matcnes NEVER TURN OUT extremely awkward, we should have had some faith in the re- inced that the artist must have failed in giving a correct idea of Lovis NaPoLeon, as he we !” | is at present, SPECIAL TRAINS FOR A PRETTY SIGHT. Two brothers, Irishmen, were hanged the other day at Cupar, for murder—denying, by the way, their guilt to the last, and leaving us in some doubt whether they have not been gratuitously strangled. A few days before that on which these men were killed, a handbill was issued, whereof a copy is here subjoined :— . “EDINBURGH, PERTH, AND DUNDEE RAILWAY. “ SPECIAL NOTICE. Several applications have been made for a Special Train at Reduced Rates from the principal Stations on the Line to Cupar, upon Monday morning the Sth Jaly. Notice is hereby given that no rednetion of Fares will take place on that day, and that the Regular Trains only will Rua from Dundee and Perth. In order to prevent delay to the first Passenger Train from Edinburgh, a Special Train for Cupar will leave Burntisland on Monday morning at half-past 6 o'clock, and from Dunfermline at clock. These Special Trains will call at all the Intermediate Stations. Fares as us val, “ A Special Train from Cupar to Burntisland, calling at all the Intermediate Stations, will leave at half-past 11 o'clock forenoon on Monday. “ Manager's Office, Edinburgh, July 1, 1852.” “ By Order.” We have some fault to find with this document, which in advertising special trains to see a couple of men hanged, d much taste in the composition of posters as might be expected from an enterprising company, with views exclusively commercial. It should have been headed :—Unper THe PatrovaGe or THE LeGIsLATURE, snp THE Masonity or tHe Nostitr, Gentry, ayp Bisnors: Carrtat Hit! Then should have followed, also in large letters, at intervals filled with smaller type, Attractive Srectacte! AwruL Examete!! Hiew Morar Lesson. Turiwime Interest!!! Dror Scene. Terrivic Denovement!!!! ann Deatn Sravccie!!!!! with a notification of the appearance of that eminent T. i MR. CALCRAFT! Finally, at the foot of the bill, there should have been three asterisks, signifying that biographies of the culprits—including their last dying speeches and confessions—and copies of verses were to be had at the several stations, published by the Company, none others to be depended | J oes not show quite so|, \\_ ae. If you are to make the miserable death of criminals the subject of a mercantile oo, in doing such a stroke of business do it thoroughly; go the whole hog, or whatever other greedy and sordid animal you may be more properly compared to. ELECTIONS MORE FREE THAN WELCOME. § rele oA carne, in describing a recently published engraving of a | | z be ‘soe 1S 25% means em- | loyed are usually a shower of stones, in which he is expected to | ind s lesson. If he wishes to take leat out of the book offered to, im at the e meets wil g but a cabbage-leaf. eS Poor fo ve Lacy Evaws had so many cabbages thrown at bim, that he looked at one time far more like the of the | | Savoy, than of the whole of Westminster. If the candidates are sus- | pected of sending forth mon from the hustings, it must be allowed | that there is abundance of spinach supplied from the market- in | order to effect the combination with which most of our; are, no doubt, familiar. shaiar®Y n1i0°7 ta one o>

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My TAL i) Ws y W/ tte / 52 oz MRS. BULL AT THE POLL. Lord Derby. “Writ, Mr. BULL, WHICH Way DO YOU Votre?” Jury 17,1 Mrs. Bull. “a, My Loxy! ron tas LARGE LOAF to Bg Surg.”

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could be expec- ted. The Colonel made a very pa- thetic speech on his re-election. It t a stolen Where at least more than one from the crowd appealed to, made bold — “No, no!” This, at least, is satisfactory. : The Colonel then observed, “he had now represented the city so long, that he almost looked upon it as his own.” Quite his own, we should say; in fact, a very and parcel of him, evenas Gimzs GuBBINs became part and of the animal, his roperty. And—if there be any truth in the story—it was after this pa cog TLES and a were born and foaled on the same day, at the same hour, same minute. In fact, it has never been satisfactorily cried or which brayed the first. Before Gries could Shoonplhaaea:togetinry sad "te tan, Grae bat ust so Sap er; and in time, Gruzs sat so long that he Absolutely began to grow a of the animal— Frees: yep a be. we > m _- uae short, was impossible for even the most cunning donkey ended and — sy vag poke _ an a ; in manner, where was of Gries and the termination of the ass? GrLEzs the beast, that it had become a part of his flesh and blood; nay, when Gres — his mouth to speak, you might have sworn you heard nothing but an ass. We think the name of the ass was Lincoln ; but, any way, Lincoln, that is, the Donkey—and Gusstns were one. However, to return to the Colonel. He said—“he had heard of bribery and corruption; but he did not know what they a Se it was something that came from the Treasury benches.” This is an ex i coincidence : the friend know thistles from carrots, and on one occasion mistook a peck of oats for carraway-seeds, ‘The Colonel vehemently condemned the bran new Bribery Act ; and with his phil ic gushings, the Colonel has good, benevolent cause for of the measure, inasmuch as it was one “‘that restrained Q acts of charity, and from the jperformance of those duties which, he knew from hi gpiring eX and assisting the poor widow in her tribulation.” Colonel, bless you! Bless you and thank you! That sentence of yours pooh, why should we not publish the fact ?)—has os us; and we se at this minute a big tear—big as a sugar-plum— lown our nose, and—there !—— ct mes le por: sd nr, ue tn e sym ic r] purifies the chronicles a Colonel’s goodness. . Wounds i salve—salve for wounds at elections! What sort of salve? Is it that is not patented? Does it require a starip? Is none genuine ; “Srptaorr?” Of what is it compounded? Are ingredients to be found in California? Is it m dust, in scale, Or at hens But the climax of bounty, the Hoan armen of irr ible goodness, volence, is in “assisting the poor For.we cannot hide from our Savlins nt = s REsS 5 F is any of its elections. lore, any aid in the widow's tribulation is the aid of ere Se tees eeu I e The widow in her tribulation! What this ! We have understood that the i is lonel are flannel and blankets. Like the simple chis, SrsTHORP shines in wool. authority, were healing the wounds re- ih Hi i i He Ui i : | “ a 3 4 : i : i i ae F iH i : .. f ff : { E = E or : } é Fa every bit as pure. printed in grimy ink on “Flow on, thou Shining.” Somes people have accused Lonp Marpsrone of talking about that which he does not understand when he anticipated a post-DeRBYITE Deluge. The electors of Westminster have, however, enlightened the poetical Viscount in some degree, for they have astonished him with such ea as may give him some notion of a deluge-in UNCONSTITUTIONAL TEMPERATURE, fears were enter- Tue weather was so hot last that serious tained that the New Parliament be dissolved as fast as it was consti Oxford Honours—D. C. L. We. have it on newspaper that late example of Cambridge ine uetorstned to honour with the ity of Doctor of Civil Law. Whereupon the CuanceLlon oF THE EXCHEQUER be addressed —“ The Rr. How. Bensamun DIsRAELI D)(eaed) ‘Cheer L,(erite.) ” A DISTINCTION WITH LITTLE DIFFERENCE. Pure es epasit "Net much, "The Papists are Homan . and the Puseyites are Roman Candlesticks.

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

MAIDSTONE, THE “UNKNOWN.” Tue Herald is indi at the ignorance affected by W mip cae oan. Minorca! | ignoran says nobleman!” “Dauntless courage!” “Challenged Dantet O'Connett!” What a shame that these cls the gratitude of Westminster were not duly cuts of duelling-pistols. And whereas it was certain chivalrous animal to be advertised as wot kills an ’underd rats in five minutes,”. chivalrous nobleman have gone to the wall (as, in a way, done) as—“The Lorp Marpstone, who, t* his Parliament—where he was sure to bs ag O’ConneLL! Vote for Church and State and s

W/

=<

THE DERBY LULLABY. Ou rest thee, Protection ! neal oe. We've done with thee 1 . We've settled the i : \ \ ) | \ And Free Trade’s all right. \

: \ IN \ ) \ Wy Wi Of classes, old dads | KN ~<a 4 i will be your best way ; in \ a= = = \\ ee oe NCETM) \\ Hi) i | INAUUIEREOGEOVANUOQD)OQUHHOINOOOO NID gH! SEDAN A Sibilant Constituency. i) NAT TIT a TTP WAT TAN MVEA | Cotoxgi Sistore, on presenting hi a | Sears

| that we expected that our Colonel’s constituents would have I given him any but a most cordial reception; but we ht birds — of so peculiar a feather could only express themselves by disses. = ess [SS rem ———————

EXTREMELY PRETTY. ‘ A Fasnionaste Artist, who never takes a sitting out of be ang er as = how the oe exerted Se THER estminster for a certain , lispingly exclaimed, VERY PROPER DIET FOR THIS HOT WEA . raph word! No lady should gio bee countenance to any Mrs, Turtledove. * Dearest ALFRED! WiLL you Decipe Now WHAT WE SHALL | gentleman’s canvass, unless it is to have her portrait taken. | HAVE FoR Dinner!” pa A WES BEES Ee Mr. Turtledove. “ Let me see, Poppet. We wap a Waren YESTERDAY— NOT AN EXTRAVAGANT IDEA, Suppose we Have 4 Roasr Burrerriy To-pay.” A Bishop's Charge.—¥rom six to twenty thousand a year.

A. Asa man of honour I decline to answer the tion, and ‘in so | THE CANDIDATE’S CATECHISM, doing throw myself on the sympathy of the Committee, om, AND HOW TO ANSWER IT. g — you en Sone ie te gona a kissing the little A.’s? PartiaMent having passed that very impertinent measure, the @ 2 La that = ae pes to ‘cated with Corrupt Practices at Elections Act, it becomes Mr. Puncu’s duty, as ’ TRS tae ae FOR Raves SES or communicated | guardian of the British Constitution —e duty which he fulfils os me Oot aaa during the Election, or during the RD HANCELLOR does that of guardian of all lunatics—to point out | P* rsed wit f th F how the provisions of this objectionable and inquisitorial Law may best ie... setts hare that this Oe od crag of them on the weather, and I MK . . i to stand for the Borough ? The Act ought to be called the Member’s manual for the confessional. Q. How did you happen to s ra p . It is obviously the work of a set of regular Parliamentary Pater wanaen nine to sit for it; and s for it became a ENSES. It suggests the most monstrous offences to innocent M.P.’s : : . . who have hitherto put their hands into their breeches pockets and mM, Roo whom did you communicate on the subject before agresing forked out “the regular expenses” without ie. any questions. | "4° with my wife. After the publication of this abominably suggestive list of in | 0 Was ing, and what, said about the expenses ? eee oe ee hing f — 4 . —- —— is A. She hurvel I ought to know better than fool manag ing in only one way to — the Dopey Thig is to pahow eo portent 7 — y after finding fault with her 8 bill questions may | fely answ yy any Member without committin ‘ * ‘ ? himself, or getting his agents committed. The following examples w: ¢ potom rly dar nae theg Ag we sasiilanaa ted to akewer illustrate our meaning. any questions I might be asked. , Q. Who were your agents at the election ? Did you make any promise before the Election ? A. All the friends of the British Constitution in the Borough. A. I promised to do everything that everybody wanted—after I got ill you swear that A. was not your agent P into Parliament. : 4. The law never calls on a man to prove a negative. It should not,! @Q. Did any person, and who, on your behalf, communicate with therefore, insist on his swearing what he cannot be called upon to| persons having interest in the Borough ? prove. N. B. All particulars as to acquaintance and connexion with A.| 4. My Committee communicated with every voter of principle, and I will be inquired into; ¢.g.— — conceive persons with principle ought to be persons with interest. Q — not invite A. to dine with you at the Reform Club ? ‘ g& Rd passed between you and those persons before I A nications Q. At your expense ? : A. The usual remarks upon the weather. A. He wished to pay his own share of the bill, and I was anxious} @Q. How much did you suppose the legal expenses to be? he should do so. But the waiter informed me this was prohibited by| 4. I have always understood that no safe calculations can be made the rules of the Club. ‘ as to the amount of legal expenses till a have seen the attorney’s Q. Have you not repeatedly complimented Mus. A. on her good | bill, and I have not yet seen mine.—N. B. All the details of the alleged looks ? expenses will then be minutely gone into; ¢. g.—

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4

—_—_——

consider ten barrels of beer to be expenses ? should Co ye Beeldeny oy ar) OO yards being “measures, BE they sacs eepeoed teat the oe they were required to keep the peace, which I 5a ; you will have to pay more money after over in the hands of my lawyer, so that I think it extremely carefull and their ci A cove: Member of blue ribbon xpenses ? not men,” Fee ee eee uasitity acted w find aan

THE OLD OPERA STORY.—WHO’S NEXT?

tirement of Ma. from Her Majesty's Theatre.

A DIALOGUE IN THE REPORTERS’ GALLERY. Speakers—Mr. Juvenat Green, and Mz. Persius Brown. RASA Or) > yuan phat at’ last! and, no more, as I wearily Try, in =, i shall I cry “ Semper ego auditor.” ; ee papers no longer can | Letwe bak aps re sedem : —— gpeeresb'el vpetarts the te of t Pi ae Repose does my then expect ? a epekoenl chance of repose is, | ioe nes al re Fen they seldom pee a mos 3 0 r) are ' And to utter really have pony t linguas optare, As each strives, to the ad who shall 2 the t, S and Bane 0 promise mos EB. Too meche aed tae Motifs et ade Mame r amphant, Monstrari, et dicier, Hic est! tashiy th they talk, eet et png e doubtless would gladly exult his Unfortunate lines and to substitute, Unica oo Et sola Nobilitas bert eeping her, other losses can’t hurt us. P. B. At elections I Swar exclaim. ‘ * Quantum est in rebus inane!” To each candidate fain Lory, a deinde ? quo ruis, insane ? Rem populi tractas?” Tas ask him, ( fervet bile Commot, with missiles and assailing the oo eriff, the while he in vain his hand to impose with calidze silen Baar - dost thou suffer ‘hee te toils P To in thyself, “rs fie bart) RvssexL,

E are sorry to hear of the site LumiszT a For a moment their follies perchance may 1.6.0 OT memadpesbaese are those who nf did perme: eandins Tet claim 6 een a tenants opine, and by quorum, So i> Gk. Btogheste’ he'll newer be ¥ , Si dentur. as ra ‘their ve will bant, as Tt may be to oe ts pen wink is tay, i alla oT tka teats on edhe: S Maeerens lanl ina qeorasm, t ¢ the satirist wandered {rom home, he bad his cum pretio omais Rome, iC Scomk Jou may Sale PEE 4 your learning and worth, they will all, ? in tenui rara ae ees aR not 80 ‘our satire but youmalf babe asini longas atiticul fe these defects, agg to alter them vtaedatly J.@. a sot ‘Nonsense! Quis tulexit Gracchos de seditione que- ren i ee isn’t worth the small end of my as ‘ -| Dat veniam corvis, of course, sed vexat censura columbas.

LORD MAIDSTONE’S FLOOD OF ELOQUENCE. A

a < of be mimic mountain might bean nA oy oud Protons unprovenes Vesuvius as the follow the farce that i is now y going on, Zodlovical it may be manager of piece of pyrotechny ready for inten

BO DOUBT OF IT.

| Mille Pee ae species, my friend, ict rerum discolor usus

i! G@ mineralogist ” Which is the most attractive Mr. Mr. Pak wih en eye ee ee eae

Page 46

cat eo ‘PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL si Vy “a a bs Siar Ny i“ . eae TAKING IT COOLLY. Old Gent. “* * Now THEN, CapmaN, How mucH To tHE Strawn?” Cabman, “ Six Samus!” Old Gent. “Tuat’s Too Mucu. Cabman, “Wi! Wat you bnahsanit ! Ir’s roo Hor To DISPUTE ABOUT Tairces! - THE REVOLVING MAN. self down in his next book as he succeeds in home those four Lions, he will be able to write hi greatest in the world. COMEANION PRINTS, Wit1am Lex inventi the « Stocking Loom.” * DIsRAELI inven’ “ Possibility - of - some-— |, thing-in-the-fature Loom.” PROVINCIAL FANCY. Lively little Affair at Tiverton, between old Pam, alias the Botile-holder, and Rowcutrre, the Tiverton Yokel, ConsIDERABLE interest has for some time past attended the move- ments of old Pam, the Downing-street ve especially since his retirement from the Family Crib, in consequence of his tiff with Jounny Rvssex1t, who has since, , given up t the house to the Dexxy Pet, having been driven to this step, in & greal » by | the disgust of his patrons at his treatment of the judicious ag be Since his quarrel with Jonny old Pam has pone Om on the quiet, , it is said, repeated offers to make matches, and, though much pressed by Dersy fe une d bs is pee at the Foreign Matmessury (who got such ae now very inadequate. dy from eamwan the Shields Rough), Pam has misting the Omer : at he +3 very wisely held back. It is thought by many of his friends e contemplates bine the house himself, should Dexsy find it too many for him, which most people think it is. “Under these circumstances the we oy naturally all agog to witness the little mill that has just come off at hymn between the veteran Bottle-holder and one Rowciirre—a performer not known in the .ondon’ fe R., but about whom his local backers bounced uncommonly. ge to Pa we must own, took us by surprise, and so we it did t the leet himself. rie e affair came off on Wednesday week, and a strong muster of the ial’ tended. onic Ordinary, is ¢ fan cy Pam was attended by Geoncey Hearucorr, while a couple of Pro- vincial _— unknowns did the needful for Rowctirre. On the men stripping, Paw’s fine condition was apparent. Notwithstanding his ad a he peeled as clean as a star and appeared as gamesome as . kitten, chafing c is friends in a style that showed thorough contempt or his:man. Round 1.—Rowcuirre came up hoveas Pam took his ground laughing. \ After -a little dodging, Rowcuirre went in, evidently meaning mi f, and led off with his right, but was sere by Pam, who shook his head smiling, and dropped his hands, as if disdaining to punish his man. Rowc.trre, nettle ae rushed in rather wild with a one, two, when Pam coun sharply on his nob, and Rowciirrz went down heavily. “First blood for Pam. (Tremendous heers for the Bottle-holder, who walked contempluously: to his corner, | ponding with his thumb over his left shoulder.) Round 2.—RowctirFe came up “Me's wha i t-hand . ge but ‘still game. nee —— neat and Pam dodged. in his Rowcrirre, ; - intending oo - eer =, ut with his ‘left at Pan's bs, but was met . by: th . ‘tin ron the ‘inowledge his man right off, fo! ole amount Ow, ast eee sie ae ce where he WCLIEFE. 8 up : ment like a glutton, and now and then senptng a return, getting home, till Pam, after thus. playing his opponent like a: me nom with a mouse for some moments, drew his left and sent Row grass with a.rum ’un on the ri ht ch from. which he could not come to time; and Pam was accordingly proc the victor, without.a hit or & scratch, after two rounds, only oceupying about ten minutes. Rowcutrre evidently nap mopped it very heavily about the head and. though.those who do not know Paw s neat style of punishment have fancied he had been hitting light. wield be Remarks.—To draw any com een.these men ridiculous. From their eam their rou tn was all bonberd Street to a China orange. Nothing but the most foolish presumption on the part of Rowctirre and his backers could have prompted tie Ne challenge the veteran Bottle-holder. Old as Pam is, he is still a match for ie any trump, epg in capital spirits, and Ganety enjoyed his easy mdb g oping The spectators in a roar the whole time. affair as & eran t, and me be for him. ‘Er ae Rewounes Brno no jo the same, e veteran may shortly: expected in wn, at his ¢ d crib in Carlton Terrace, when he will be happy to-mbet his friends and patrons as usual Tremendous Heat of the Weather. Ir seems there is a faint rumour of ® liberation of poitial prisoners in France. Warm as the weather has iately bese, we were scarcely pare for this new proof of it. melted Lovis APOLEON’s heart! +. » Printed by William Ly fo» 18, Uj a Flees fa Sa Pastel of 00. Panenes, ont the Preelent of Sebed te ches Mullett Evans, A Stoke N Office in Lombard Street Whitefriars ,in the City of London, and f gureel, ia the Row, at the: at No. & Fleet Street, ia the Parieh of Bt, Bside'et ie the Ly tt Ae ad wy

Page 47

| jerk of the

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON’ CHARIVARL

MATRIMONIAL BIOLOGY.

HIS so foe science, ut requires ¥ skill to practise it, “The husband tries it on upon the wife, or else the wife (for women general! ly are more clever at Hy hg on”) tries it on hus- ? band. In either case, it . is extremely amusing, ie and rarely fails of suc- = cess. The quiet way in exe... Which the person who is Se unde the ee .. the WK out of his senses, affords

the amusement —amusement not un- mixed with instruction to those who are looking on. ‘We will illustrate this science with a few 4 examples, , : Mr. Jonzs is a highly successful matrimonial Biologist. His wife is — WO highly susceptible—pain- fully so. She is ex- tremely weak, and does evi g that Jones bids her todo. She be- lieves every word he says, and will say anything that Jonzs commands her to say. If Jonzs tells her to say he came home last night at twelve o’clock, or that the moon is made of green cheese, or any other likely im- probability, Mrs, Jones will say so at once. No matter how many may be present, the wonderful control over her smallest actions is just the same. In fact, if there is a large company assisting at the matrimonial séance, the complete submission to the husband’s will is frequently only the more strongly developed. These phenomena are not always produced by the communication of metal—though of course the exhibition of it on the husband’s part has its due effect. In truth, the more mettle the husband generally shows, the quicker the change in his wife’s disposition. A i ‘ But sometimes a small pressure will work the same change. For instance, Jones is dressing. He declares his shirt is not properly washed. Mrs. Jonzs declares it is. Jonzs contends it isn’t. Mrs. Jones maintains it is. is continues for two or three minutes. At last, Jonzs rushes to his wife, seizes her by the wrist, and gerd it rather tighter than usual, challenges her to look at him. This is done, when Jones says, still holding her by the wrist, “ How can you look at me, an say this shirt is properly washed?” There is no reply, but the eyelids drop, and the whole frame slightly quivers. Jones follows up his advantage, and still staring at her rather scowlingly in the face, shouts loud enough for the buoy at the Nore to hear him: “ I defy you, Madam, to say this shirt is weer washed!” The wife sinks down on a chair, covers her face with her hands, and, try as she ill, finds that she cannot say it! The success of the experiment is complete! At other times, the two opposite (or rather, opposing) parties are put en rapport by a pressure upon the foot. We will suppose they are at dinner. A few friends are invited to partake of it. Jonzs recommends his “dear AtpEnMAN Spoon” to try the venison. “Venison! my dear?” exclaims the simple wife, “it’s mutting.” ‘Perhaps you will tell me next, Madam, I don’t know venison when I see it?” “No, Joun, dear, you make a mistake, I tell you, it’s mutting—I bought it myself.” “ How can you quietly sit there, Madam,” (here he pinches her foot under the table,) “and gravely say it’s mutton ? tell you it’s venison, and it’s the finest haunch I’ve seen for a long time; and I de you, Madam,” (here the pinches upon the foot become harder and harder, until at last there is a slight , as if a corn had been touched,) “yes, I defy you, Madam, to sa that it is mutton.” The knife and fork are dropped; a cambric handkerchief is raised to the lady’s eyes, and an interminable silence of five minutes, only relieved by ALDERMAN Sroon’s taking snuff, is the most flattering testimony of the complete success of this interesting biological experiment. On the other side, the experiments are not always so successful. us generally are not so susceptible as wives. They require more delicate treatment. The passes, whether under the table or not, must be conducted upon a much more gentle footing. Brow-beating has no effect whatever, for a husband may be told over and over again by his wife to “look her in the face,” but it is extremely =e We ( : se Z< Y NG “pi 4 ON a ie LAE, J Ney A E {Sci yy) nN! LZ on \ he — TA ~ rare to meet with one who has the courage to do it, as long as she continues in a ion. will take os t Ma. Dove is a little _ But we have met with some pleasing cases to the contrary, [ diminu‘ive man, with scarcely sufficient energy to cry out “ Stop!” to an omnibus. Mus. Dove is tall and commanding, es lly commanding as regards poor Dove. She can do what she likes with him—making him sing, dance, run, fetch an carry, just as she pleases. He hasn’t the will to resist, and, when he has, his will is easily conquered by his wife’s “ Shall.” er system of Biology is very simple. It consists of a frown first, and a pinch afterwards. If he happens to be blind to the one, he is never insensible to the other. He is pinched into subjection mneeet, In fact, the amount of electricity which there is in a wife’s pinch has never been yet properly estimated. as, for example, as possi ter’s age is always four or five years, in order that her own |- may benefit the fall. Th “JULIA is very advanced—you wo ae aaeaeee was onl twelve?” “I should think not,” exclaims poor Dove, “when she will be sixteen next birthday, if she’s a day.” “Now, Henry, dear,” and she frowns at: him and then takes hold of his sleeve. “ You know betterthan that.” “No, I don’t.” you do, dear, you know she’s ve,” (slight pinch,) “in fact, she’s scarcely twelve,” (two or three ford ~ to pee gfe ob- ions ;) “come, don’ run away, Henry, but sa lia tealee and not sixteen — there’s a dear.” Hewzy says as he is wanted, and would have said she was only two to get his arm away. Mars. Dove goes to a dinner party she tells the people) in a fly, but Eyny bluntly says it was an omnibus, and declares he can prove it, when suddenly he recollects (at a pinch) that it was a fly. In the same way he cannot see the none of a baby that is being handed round for admiration, and openly says as much, but all at once his arm is seen to fly w wards, and he vows “it’s the sweetest little thing he has seen for a long time.” % Again » he hates dancing :—No, he won't dance, not even to please hi dear little ew it is in vain his holding out—He must dance—No, he won’t: when he feels several smart shocks down his elbow—and, strangely enough, he dances for a whole hour against his will. This same absence of will is evi- denced in all his actions. He holds skeins of silk, without being able to stir from the spot; he reads aloud until he can scarcely see, but for the life of him daren’t close the book ; he is dragged about all day from shop d|to shop, and, much as he wishes to run home, his legs refuse to carry him anywhere but after his wife. The Biological influence is complete. Instances might be multiplied with a tedious facility, but we t we have adduced sufficient to prove the magical control the husband some- times exercises over the action movements, and almost — 0 his wife, making her repeatedly say and do the very opposite of what she defy | intended; and the absolute command w the wife occasionally gains over her husband, making him a passive instrument in her hands, to turn or twist to any purpose she pleases. Some very entertaining experiments are frequently made by placing in the palm of the wife’s hand a piece of metal, not e & Sov . On such occasions, the wildest exhibitions i place, the patient being sud- denly moved to tears, or frantic joy, according. to the g humour she may be in; but such experiments are extremely dangerous, for it is al- ways an operation of the utmost nicely, if not of the greatest impossibility, the sovereign out of the wife’s and when once the husband has

parted with it.

VOL, XXIII.

Page 48

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVART. Wuat ouk ARTIST WILL CERTAINLY BE Driven 10, 1F THIS Hot WeatHER Lasts much LoncER. THE POLICE STAFF. Surety, the Commissioner of Police ought to havea seat in the paw parliament, for he has canvassed tremendously. His staff has en a little too pees appealmg to “the sense of the people,” rg yy people’s heads, in a manner that makes Joun BuLt apt to | omit the line in the anthem—*“ Britons never shall be slaves.” Mr. | Waxpore, as Home Secretary, might have been returned for West- minster by “ plumpers ;” that is, if ed py: might vote as they laid about them. A great deal has been said of the respect, the veneration | paid by Englishmen to the policeman’s staff. Is it then, in reward of | the superstition, that during certain contests, Englishmen have been so | mercilessly knocked down by their idol ? Holding the Mirror up to Nature. _ Tae simple plan for enabling an engine-driver to see the whole of | his train by affixing a looking-glass in a convenient position on the tender, has, it seems, been declined by several English Railway Com- | patties. e understand the reason to be that the Companies are already exposed to so many reflections, that the Directors are afraid of increasing the number. AS CLEAR AS THE NOSE ON YOUR FACE, ConstpERING the immense variety of smells that emanate from the es, what a capital speculation the river would be, if it could but be made to pay one per (s)cent. Tergiversation on the Sly. A Srortine Contemporary, the other day, announced “a ratting feat” to come off at Bitty Somepopy’s public-house. There must be some mistake in this—at any rate so sneaking a trick will not succeed. The Dgrsyrtss’ renunciation of Protection must be open as unconditional: the people of this great country will never suffer | them to perform their feat of ratting in a hole and corner in the slums, OFFICIAL INTELLIGENCE. We beg leave to refer our readers to the Gazette for the list of Government appointments, and for the long string of Government Dis- a the public need only glance down the long lists of election returns in the columns of the newspapers. A CHILD’S CAUL FOR SALE.--In consequence of the approaching +% Deluge, as prophesied by Lorp Maipstons—when a!l such articles will rise con- siderably in price —this Child’s Caui will be sold a Great Bargain, for the moderate sum of £50. An early application is requested of the numerous in ere demands. For further particulars, apply to Jenemian Dippier, Esq., Diddlesex Chambers, Diddlesex. INSENSIBILITY TO FAMINE. on oy many poorle who do not know when they have had enough ; accor IR FITzROY there are also many—so many as to include the majori St me te sine ho cannot tell when they have had too little. Lorp Dsxsy’s Solicitor- i has made this discovery, and imparted the new-found truth to his constituents of East Suffolk, whom he i addressed at the hustings : “It has been said that people at large, before the certainly not quite in the iti These good things, ac to Sen goac auaawenciag. Bes thoveleer eagiaial a8 gone on increasing. But the ory Bread!” which, as your friend Evciip wodld absurd, if cheap bread means abundance: if it means scarcity, as it does if oy Keiix. So much corn ‘has been imported, so much less many more mouths ‘to feed, so much less bread for each= case of our learned friend. Well: have not esten so ii Fs rid athae food we rejoice im. ‘enlarged our as they were to b: we ha f illusi the fact, that he has himself been beg haw goer to impress the susceptible subjects of East Suffolk with a Bat if Free Trade js 2 dclusion, why should the iu eisa deceive us? How cruel of them ap fee our If we imagine we have a Lotus in the big loaf, humour the national mania, allow us to continue in the enjoyment ofit: if we are crazy, nevertheless you see it keeps us quiet. 4 i Newport against Rimini. At Newport the other day, the papers relate, the ceiling of a large room fell in upon four hundred Mormonites, not one of whom was hurt. The Latter Day Saints say it was a miracle they all escaped; other persons, who pretend to be saints, would declare it a miracle if any of them had been killed; but no doubt the wonder above mentioned is as good a miracle as can be ted of by any Saint of the Latter Day— whether Januanius or Joz SmirH. HOW TO BE NOT RECOGNISED BY YOUR CREDITORS. Barue in the Sepenin, and upon emerging from the water you will be quite a different colour, and so terribly altered, that not — shar, ighted creditor will be able to recognise you.—dJ. IDDLER, Esq. Golden Prospects. Owtne to the expected influx of gold from Australia, it is reported in the best informed circles that Gold Stick will ultimately have his wand of office composed of the precious That metal, however, will be less precious than it is at present ; and the rise in comparative value of the secondary metallic substance, will render it, by and or a much more fortunate lot than it is even now, to be born with a silver spoon in one’s mouth. NEW START OF DERBY AND CO. Tae Dersy Firm appears likely to re-open shop after the election, depending, less like a Protectionist than a Free Trade establishment, on “ Small Profits and Quick Returns.” Papal Pireworks. THe beast ge cof have bens, at the it ree se yon od a technical abilities in the composition of squibs, or rath Snes, fie eo i which alpha, roel predonini,a ich, their extremely incen nant more than mere treworks, if not appventiing to nature of infernal machines.

Page 49

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL 45 HINTS TO YOUNG YACHTSMEN. 8 the yachting season has com- menced its brilliant course, it becomes Mr, P.’s duty to give a fillip to the aspirations of of then who Aer aera, wil cal of them who fas ears, hear—Mr. P. promines himeelf no ordinary mo) To find the means ag beerabewe pty 4 Pp ent, don’t you interfere with it, by trying it-en elsewhere. You may so + 4 being shy about an application to him, oceasionally. But, becautious. The myth (look out that word) of the Wandering Jew too me ie the restless activity of the at Hebrew intellect. Many a pleasant fellow’s ife has been spoiled by the infusion of the “ Semitie element” (see Life of Bentinck). ps, after all, the sea is the best field—if it cam be called a field —for your young ition. You were born for the water, you say. So are the swans. also is another class of birds—but pass that by. You are bent on being a Yachtsman. Well, I don’t blame you for the ition. You are too old to enter the Navy. And, if you were not, your worthy father’s opinions are very liberal. He wouldn’t get an appointment from the present people, I can tell you! P ou have bought the Buddle, and you have been elected into the Argonaut Club, after a little manceuvring. You were opposed, first of all, by the machinations of Frrz-Orrat, i I don’t applaud Fitz-O, I agree whom yeu sulkily describe as a “ used-up exclusive swell.” : i keep the flag (which I implore you not with you, that it is wonderful how he manages to } to a “bit of bunting”) flying im the Diddler. I can give no satisfactory tion of his leaving the Heavy Baboons after the Derby of 184—; and I wish I knew the details of his rumoured scene with his skipper (whom, by the by, call the “master” for a year or two) outside the Isle of Wight. But never mind him; he has not hindered your getting in, an he would give his ears or his pedigree (both of which are of respectable length) te have your banker’s aceount. Then, don’t embroil yourself with any of your club. Don’t get into corners of billiard-rooms at Cowes, or elsewhere, and sneer at the Committee. "t_be always niggling at the Regulations, or making absurd animadversions on the rules relating to the star tack giving way, &c. In fact, let me first of all warn you not to begin by being 400 nawtical. Rome—Hupson’s house at Albert Gate—were neither of them built in a day. You can’t make a name ina day: except such a temporary mame as you could make by sewing m cress in = form of letters in a garden, wnt sprouts up and passes away before you can say JACK BINSON. in these pages, occasion to reprimand a youth who startled a whole company of saying that xo square-rigged man could sail a fore- ter, This was in the London in port, when I was visiting the dockyards officially, with the excellent Sir TounpeR Boms, K.C. B., and the effect is still fresh in my remembrance. There were many naval men there, when this dogma fell from the l'ps of Gostine (of the firm of Frorr AND Gosiing). The poor boy never could get over the effect of his speech, and has since married a widow with money. down great and taken to farming. Be slow, my son, to general principles. Be long before you affect the very familiar use of nautical phrases. I would pence hear you pronounce t shnddingeniia iving “‘studding” its two syllables in full—than hear you glibly talking of “‘ stun-sails,”’ confusi: full— them ho y with the fying ma I prefer that you should, on visiting a man-of-war, 8 deliberately of t castle,” than that you should saucily bring out “fo ” like an old boatswain, when you could scarcely discriminate between its position and that of the poop! I have been informed that when Lorp Mupp1e visits ships officially, he has been known to mis the binnacle for the jolly-boat, but remember that you are not a Lord of the Admiralty, and that no such ignoranee will be excused in you. Long Vacation. A PROMIsING young Solicitor of Carey Street intends going to Prussia, to be présent athe experienc guing om ere wil te aed gun aie Mi s & fow notions as't0 Sharp Practice = ee ee STARVED OUT BARRISTERS. We understand that Messrs. Brrerizss and Dunur have sent in claims to compensation, for the loss they will sustain by the abolition of the Dae sec equiring “ Counsel’s signature” to the pleadings in the of Common Law. declares this arrangement ithe bread out of his mouth and the tea ou! ° =n | Government. In md fees he ever received—he quotes passion- y the of Macpurr as to the sum- mary treatment of “all his little ones”—his Pat off at “one fell Sweep?” ond, indeed, it i cut off at “one swoop ; , im it is to be feared that the effect on the mind as well as on the larder of the learned gent. will be truly deplorable. There has been some talk of a subscription, which it is said will be headed by the laundress, who has offered to impale on the shrine of benevolence the amount of her last week’s washing bill. DUET FOR THE LAWYER’S OFFICE -‘AND THE PUBLIC-HOUSE. SHOULD institutions be or which, time out of mind, Our Srpveys bled and Hampnens fought, In the days of auld lang syne ? Sing auld lang syne, my friend, auld lang syne, We'll make a pretty penny yet, Of auld lang syne. And sure you’! chuckle o’er your sto As md I o’er mine ; , bas We both may well be cock-a-whoop For our gains of auld lang syne. Sing, auld lang syne, &c. Whoe’er | two must wi himnim«@.. " the da: Gedtladen a syne. Sing, ot leas syne, &c, wi, Then show’s thy purse, my worthy friend, See, here’s a of mine ! Though somo a.lstle ines anay spend Than they did in auld lang syne. Sing, auld lang syne, &c. Influx at Lunatic Asylums. As there are to be two full moons this month, it that all homcoeopathists, and others may beexpected hists, labouri deri!lasions—Protectionists, perhaps, inclasine ~taill hae bean tuiee-en.sned.on eoual,

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PUNCH, OR .THE LONDON CHARIVART. sa iW / Ng WIL: “ny > y) Vij?" = Ss my. “iray STARTLING EFFECT OF THE GOLD “ DIGGINS.” Reduced Goldsmith (loq.). “Now THen, Here you akeE!—a Hanpsomz GOLD Snurr-Box anp a Ha’portH or Snurr For a Penny!” {\\\|| awe ow . 1” 4 —y STANZAS TO PALE ALE. Ox! I have loved thee fondly, ever Preferr’d thee to the choicest wine; From thee my lips they could not sever By saying thou contain’dst strychnine. i I believe the slander? Never! held thee still to be divine. colour hath a charm, Although ’tis true they call thee Pale; And be thou cold when I am warm, As late I’ve been—so high the scale Of FanRennert—and febrile harm Allay, refrigerating Ale! How sweet thou art !—yet bitter, too; And sparkling, like satiric fun ; But how much better thee to brew, han a conundrum ora pun, It is, in every point of view, ust be allow’d by every one. Refresh my heart and cool my Light, airy child of malt and hops ! Tithe akin the sides the chin the oh e skin, the sides, the e cho) And burst the terand off the coat, ri Like stout and porter—fattening slops ! For me t Una Voce Poco Fa. Te other day, Lorp Maipstowez on coming forward to the Westminster electors for having thrown him out, or rather refused to let him in—though he would have let them in if they had done otherwi that he was unabl to say anything, as he had “lost his voice.” Now, as a thin cannot be lost until it has been found, and as we never that Lorp Maipsrone possessed a voice in Westminster, we do not see how he can have lost it there. Of course, as he had nothing to say on the hustings when the result of the poll was declared, he could only as a “mute” assisting at the funeral obsequies of Protection in Covent Garden Market. A SERMON FOR DOGS, THE dogs of Constantinople are among the most interesting creatures of that most famous ‘city. It requires a sharp look-out on the part of the night-walker, not to be attacked and devoured by them; but that is little. There they are, in their dirt, and mange, and nastiness—the pets of the pious Mussulman who harbours and comforts them. However, the spirit of liberalism—the spirit that has killed the merriment of once merry land, making us a hard-dealing, cotton- spinning, dear-selling, cheap-buying nation; the spirit that, according to the Imaums who preach from the minarets of the Herald and the Post, has caused to be thrown out of cultivation thousands and tens of thousands of acres of land that was wont to be rich and smiling with golden corn—every rain of which now comes from the foreigner—the British farmer in lessness growing nothing but its way to Stamboul, undsel and poppies; that spirit that, forci fas plucked the solemn turban from the head af the Turk, clapping in its stead the fez woven and imported from unbelieving Leeds; the spirit of innovation that has torn the wide-flowing robe and the volu- minous bag-like trousers from the yous ussuiman, and now buttons him tight up to the throat, and thrusts his legs in shameless trousers ; that spirit busy among the time-hallowed dogs of Stamboul—the curs almost sacred in their vested rights of food and ging. A short time ago—says the Globe—the number of dogs in Constanti- nople was so great, that three thousand of them—many of them, no doubt, torn from their nearest and dearest friends, with no more tender- ness shewn towards them than a Virginian slave-merchant exhibits towards his two-legged chattels—three thousand of them were conveyed to an isle of the Bosphorus, with provision to /ast three days / On the fourth day, the Imaums the minarets, and exhorted the dogs to patience and resignation ! Do we take this story as the grave relation of a grave fact? Not we. No: no; the editor of the Glode is an incorrigible wag; and has only invented the tale as an illustration—another waggery—of the condition of a rt Protectionists (if there be so many ?) at present in Eng But let us assume this dogs’ tale to be a true tale; what was the true peroration of the Imaums’ sermon to the dogs? Why, the ve sermon that those Imaums of Manchester, CoppEN and Brieur, in their sarcastic hard-heartedness preach from their minarets, the tall chimneys of Cottonopolis. Consider those hapless, undone d the English farmers. Their cries—to any other ears, save ears filled with cotton-balls—are terrible. They have expended all their capital: for more than three years—poor dogs!—they have existed upon that; and now do the Manchester schoolmen—the elders of the Manchester Jacobin Club, as NaPoLzon DisRaELI so aay calls them—now do they, in their hard-hearted sarcastic manner preach, as the Imaums preached to the ousted dogs of Constantinople—“ patience and resignation.” — But there is a term, an end to patience and resignation. “We have eaten our three days’ food—(lived on our principal for three years)” —howl the dogs; “and we are wash Meher :” And then Imaum Cospen ascends the tall brick chimney; and after crying “ Allah, Bismaliah: there is but one Manchester, and Cotton is its profit,” then does CoppEn preach to the famishing multitude; and his peroration is of these few words :— “Dogs, EAT ONE ANOTHER!” There. Punch, in the handsomest manner makes a present of this illustration to Sia Fitzroy Keuty, Solicitor-General for the Corn Laws. The thing is as false and as bad as it can be; but therefore carries with it the best recommendation for Sm Fitzroy; for is he not a man who would bleach a blackamoor into an Albino, and turn the soot of even a Manchester chimney into Alpine snow ? or,—if the thing were put in his Government brief—by his very mode of handling it, change Alpine snow into cotton-chimney soot? > Sister Seats of Learning. SHovutp an inquiry respecting the system of tuition pursued at Maynooth take place next session, its results will perhaps be interesting, as compared with those that may be elicited by the University Com- mission. They will probably show that there is no more objection to the endowment of ooth than there would be toa rent to Oxford : and that a graduate of the latter seat of learning and yism is ad- missible ad eundem at the former.

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‘UO ‘SLV@OUOV Adda AHL MNO A ia = IF, a SS Seti; WSs Aim cmenciecueeene lOO oe « AUINNOD 4HL,, WOW wove YNIWNOO 7) ne | a _____ ee

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| | PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI AN ECONOMICAL ESTABLISHMENT FOR YOUNG GENTLEMEN. HERE is a very general demand ‘for the repeal of the taxes on knowled which article, however heavily burden with — is br a —_ as people commonly suppose. eas there is a locality in the north of land, wherein knowledge ap to be obtainable on terms which, if not reasonable, are unreasonable only from being absurdly cheap. An adver- tisement in the 7imes announces, that at a ‘certain gentleman’s “ Academy ” near Richmond, Yorkshire— OUTHS ARE BOARDED, Furnished with Books, and INSTRUCTED in what- ever their future prospects may require, for 20 and 22 guineas a year. No vacations unless desired. Cards, with references, to be had by return of post, and ——- —— will call upon applicants, after the 11th, in London. To be sure, there is a certain ambi- guity in this advertisement. When it states the terms for board, books, and instruction, unconditionally, in whatever the pupil’s future panes may require, at 20 and 22 guineas a year, we are in doubt whether it means 20 + 22 guineas, or twenty guineas for one class of students or course of teaching, and twenty-two for another. As the future prospects of some pupils may require instruction in ommi scidili, the more pro- bable conjecture should seem to be that 42 guineas are intended; though in that case the figure might as well have been stated at once. But forty-two guineas would be cheap for a curriculum which would possibly include the rudiments of the ancient and modern languages, of mathematics, pure and mixed, and of the moral and plrysical sciences. If from 20 to 22 guineas be what is meant, we can only say that such a price for a year’s food for both mind and body is a miracle of cheapness; but we consider that the age of miracles has ed, and especially—after the publication of “ Nicholas Nickleby”—of such miracles as this. , , As the principal of this Gymnasium “ will call upon applicants,” we would recommend eons whom i. pag bones hi this sfitention, to interrogate him rather particularly with re © the quality o pro- visions for the santa tal mental nutrition of his juvenile charges, if the nature of those arrangements is of any consequence to the parent, uncle, aunt, or guardian concerned. As this may, in some disgraceful instances, not happen to be the case, we think it would be as well that cheap Yorkshire schools should be fiable to inspection, as well as nun- neries and all other private institutions in which the well-being of any persons—young or old, male or femaie—may be under the control of other persons, subject to human passions and frailties, and therefore, though perhaps highly respectable, not implicitly to be trusted. REAL HUSTINGS ELOQUENCE. Te noblest—although somewhat of the shortest —speech made during the elections was the speech of Mz. BrnzsrorD, late major of the Lancers, late whipper-in.of the Tories, and actual Secretary at War under Lonp Dexsy. Suan, the silver-to ed, stood upon the hustings of North Essex; and as he was much hooted, Benzsronp mildly called his opponents mere rabble. Whereupon said rabble hooted again.” Whereupon Berzsrorp meekly observed— “T appeal to the frecholders, to the landowners, and to the clergy of North Eesex, who I am sure will return me in spite of your brawls. (Great confusion.) Z you from my heart as the vilest rabbie I ever sano.” Bexesrorp throws himself like a Tory and a Christian upon the Clergy, and then denounces his men and brethren as “ the vilest rabble” he ever saw. We call this large, full-mouthed eloquence. If a dust- hole could s could its utterance be larger or more choice than the utterance of that deep-chested late lis gc —that large-hearted Secretary at War of the Tory Cabinet? The rabble! Very good indeed, ex-major. men are rabble, because they have no votes: and having no votes, how brutal must be their voices? The beasts! They are so low in intelligence that, we dare be sworn, they hardly know a big loaf from alittle one. Splendid Act of Butchery. m THE Sun relates that a certain Mz. Hann, a famous swordsman, the other evenin iis is the largest mutton chop we ever heard of. at a blow. at Saville House, Leicester Square, cut a sheep in two| Court ‘THE SUBSTITUTE FOR PROTECTION. SONG FOR THE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY, *T 1s all up wi’ Protection ; so let’s be coxitent, It wasn’t much good but to bolster up Rent; A ton of cheap guano ’d be werth more to we Than all the Protection as ever could be. But now for our we ’ve.got for to #00 To them Lobos out. there by Peru. For the stuff, by i a long price we must pay; dnd then tee’s th torriseh, boston to uakey: far for manceuvfe’ah! why should we roam? en we ty at honie, ich to waste as we do is'a e anid a hen we might rejoice‘and be thankful I went up to no long tithe ago, ene fo th Thame for reese low a a on the as we Tor the look ¢' the aioe oad Unoeiee thn weal Thinks I, this here river, so yoller'as flows, Ts no pleasant to have under one’s But wi’ a few cartloatts on’t over'a field ra Loramassy, to think what a crop ’a would yield! And here ~ be lettun# stream like that there, As might fatten the earth, only pizon the air, You might turn the best part o’ that flooid to bread, And you gets nothin’ out on’t but fever instead. A brook by my farm-yard runs pleasant and clear ; I might make un exactly like this river here, PN cael ee hd are rer 1 the good o’ the pigsty and stable away. The riches each poor country clodhopper save: You allows to bee ted ght up by the a Save a potion as don’t goo 80 far as the sea, Which you swollers yourselves in your beer and your tea. Ammonia, and such like, to plants is a treat ; But for my part I must say I don’t like such meat ; I'd rather, myself, from such ties refrain, Till in Natur’s due course they be changed into grain. But had we the stuff of the Thames at command, What a boon it would be and relief to the land ! We farmers should find it of far moor avail, Than either fixed dooty, or up-and-down scale. If I’d as much on it as I could employ, My buzzum *twould fill wi’ peace, comfort, and joy ;} And the Gockneys would also be joyful and gl If they was so well rid of rubbish so bad. The best way to smooth all our diff’rences down, Would be giving to Country the drainage of Town; To both at the same time affording relief, Of either ’twould banish the sorrow and grief. Some help of this nature would be our best boon— you asks for Protection, you cries for the moon— So now give Disrarii and Dersy to know hat manceuvre ’s the best thing that they can bestow. DEATH OF “JOHN DOE AND RICHARD ROE.” We are told that on the 24th of October next, these great characters —great in their fiction and falsehood—will cease, even as lies, to exist. A statute of the last session enacts that “ Instead of the present proceeding by ejectment, a writ shall be issued, directed to the person in posession ofthe property claimed, which property shall be described in And is law to be made a thing of reason! justice may take a chandler’s shop, and with her half-minute strokes. by Pg on or Levy JACOBs.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON. CHARIVARL. THE DAWN OF ART IN THE CITY. Tue City of London has always been on for its — —in regard, however, r cette she ipas pee, W haunch of venison, and such ik aiters,, por = to hae 0 ing an Sculptures It f tree that these two arts are combined in the statues of Goce and ; but neither the City giants, nor the image of old Mr. Becxrorp at Guildhall, will bear a judi- cious comparison with the “*Laocoon,” or the “ Betve- ii DERE APOLLO,” or, indeed, with any tolerable High- lander at a tobacconist’s door. The Mansion House is even worse off than Guild- hall for sculptural embellish- ments, having absolutely none, but lodgings to let for sixteen, in as many niches, which the architect of the building, with a view the goddess of enormous ite ; and, at any rate, one of the niches should be to Timez, old Tempva, . “Thsee fo'a tol; Sionc et Patines tan intester of Saleh ere is a o' interior Paul’s with appropriate paintings; and ARCHDEACON HaLE bas prope that these consist of illustrations of sacred history: so as to render the whole interior of the cathedral a pictorial Bible. A very idea this, par- ‘ticularly since, in the present state of national education, such a Bible is the only one that a very considerable class of persons can read. _ In preference to the ARCHDEACON’s age ey may be inclined to recommend that the pictures to adorn the inside of St. Paul’s, should, like the productions of medisval ceenon-geintens, illustrate the ecclesiastical tone and cha- racter of the age. To correspond with the saints a ar goa sible attitudes doing impossible things, as delin by the veritable pre-RaPHAELITEs, it may be thought that the pictorial decorations of our metropolitan church should represent clerical pe and persons in the positions, and discharging the functions, which they actually stand in and perform. For instance—if the artist could manage such a thing—a pluralist might be pourtrayed attending to several livings at once. A fresco might show a Bishop, assisted by one or more subordinate cle en, celebrating a “marriage in high life,” on the one hand; and on the other, a single curate joining in holy matrimony a score of couples of the inferior classes at a time. A second might display a would be patron of a living buying a next presentation: the existing incumbent in the back- ground, an octogenarian, depicted in the ancient allego- to their future occupation, | rical way, with one leg in the grave. hird might set left in its interior. But now | forth the cae of a Tractarian or Puseyite, on his the Committee for General Purposes, desirous, we suppose, to vindicate the | journey to Corporation from the charge of caring more about the knife and fork than the chisel, has suggested to the civic body a scheme for supplying the vacancies. We | ever truthful, would be can assure our fellow-citizens that we shall have much yom in suggestin ntlemen who 8 subjects for the exercise of artistic skill on the part of those me, Still, on the whole, perhaps, such representations, how- too absurd: though less absurd than wry-necked, bumble-footed saints doing incredible thaumaturgy. It is therefore to be ho , for the en- be selected to fill niches in the Temple of Fame, by filling those in the Mansion | couragement of Art, and the cultivation of public ideality House. We cannot devise so many as sixteen all at once: but we that one of the statues should certainly be that of HetrocaBatus. should say | that ARcHDEACON Hate’s scheme will be carried out, and Another—if | that. the Dean and Cuaprer of Sr. Pavt’s will contri- we may be allowed to enrich Mythology with a new deity—should be Buxrmza, | bute thereto with unwonted liberality. MISS VIOLET AND HER “ OFFERS.” —_+——_ CHAPTER XIII. O! if I were writing a sentimental story about somebody else, what a beautiful page I would try to compose here, showing what her feelings ought to have been after the event described by papa in the last chapter. Only, then, I am not a heroine. I am certain, for papa has said so (and he is always right), that 1 must have given ALBANY cause to think I loved him sincerely, and I felt very grieved that papa did not see his way to giving his consent to our marriage. But if I could have seen, at the time, the dear kind letter which made my last chapter, and | had known how papa was planning and plotting for our happiness, _ I should have cried for joy ten times as much as I did for sorrow. | Times for him, without ever 2 ds: | your work, my iron-hearted sire, my lip may writhe wit I felt so sure that all would come right, from the moment papa had thought it worth his while to understand AxBany, that I went about the house as cnasetally possible, and every day put Eau de Cologne into papa’s handkerchief, —— the shells off his eggs, and dried the ooking up mournfully, an saving, “ Behold a smile, but | my wounded heart languishes into premature interment.” Indeed, such a speech would have been beyond my powers; but papa read it from a nny but popular romance of domestic life, a number of which he ound on the rug in the breakfast room at Brighton, and politely returned, in the tongs, to the indignant subscriber and housemaid when she brought in the coal-scuttle. I think it right to quote it, because doing so shows that I know what ought to have said here, if | were writing for popularity. _ But when I say that 1 soon had another offer, and received it civilly, what ever will be thought of me? Patrons of popular literature will turn away their faces in contempt. Another’s vows, another spouse, while Hope lies crushed in Gloom! away, avaunt, [ won’t, I shan’t, go, harrow not the Tomb. But it is true, and what would make the fact still more valuable to a declamatory young lady, the offer was an aristocratic one, and therefore one which she would, of course, have trampled upon with increased bitterness of contempt. Lorp ANTHRACITE proposed tome. —_- _ Lonp ANTHRACITE is a middle-aged man, by no means rich, or influential, or notorious. He is an excellent, easy-going, kind-hearted person, whose father mortgaged, to buy horses, nearly all the property his grandfather had not mortgaged to buy voters. Consequently the present peer’s establishment is a simple one, with which he is simple enough to be content, and has neither sold himself for a rich wife, nor his proxy for “something from those fellows”—I hope I am not unlady-like in using words I hear, a. from gentlemen who ought to know how Governments should be spoken of. His Lordship has very few relations, and I think the only one he much cares about, is a widow cousin, who was once a beauty, and, on the credit of past glories, gives herself many airs. She has managed to obtain apartments at one of the country Palaces, and may be seen at a window on the days the common people are let into the gardens. She evidently regards them as trespassers, and almost makes faces at them if they venture to look up at the little forests of hydrangias and calceolarias which cover her window-sills. Lorp ANTHRACITE was once her suitor, but was — for a half-caste Croesus, who died from a deter- mination of brandy to the head, leaving all his money to the Jesuit priest who had converted him. The widow returned ee India, and found it difficult to get another husband, so she forgave Lorp ANTHRA- c1TE, but he would never renew his offer, and contented himself with paying her for years twice the attention of. any fiancé. He was—and is, for I have not interfered—perpetually driving down to the Palace with grapes, strawberries, and peaches, at seasons when the price of one of the baskets he buys would keep a quiet family for a fortnight. This is his only a I believe, and he is punished for it by her capricious- ness, for, in his presence, she will often give his beautiful fruit to her monkey or her page. But he never seems vi with her, and if, on arriving at the country Palace with a pine-apple, she should send him back to Covent Garden to change it for sixpennyworth of oranges, he would be rather pleased—not that he is in the least degree a silly person. When Her Magzsrty was about to open Parliament, Lorp ANTHRA- crtz (whose quiet, old world stories papa likes very much—they seem to have more reality than the smart anecdotes, with bits of French in them, with which dining-out gentlemen pay for their di in these days), knowing I had never seen the ceremony, obtained tickets for his cousin and me. I was delighted, and papa declares that I actually “fidgetted” to get him to the House of Lords by twelve o’clock. There we were to meet Lonp ANTHRACITE and . Lats Gore Banete. He was punctual enough, but she was not, and after waiting an hour, and seeing all the Peeresses go in, a note was t him, in which Mrs. Lat Gone informed him that the day was ly too hot

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for si and she hoped he would get tickets for the prorogation jie . looked more angry than I ever saw him eee ay ate I could noosa he aah) eaatetetite % put you into your place,” he said, “ but if is a bore not to have somebody to tell you who people are—it is too bad of Juni, almost, very delicate—ah ! there is the Duchess or “Certainly, with the pleasure,” said, a minute afterwards, one of the kindest most cheerful voices I ever heard (to be sure, one would have been actually disappointed if any other kind of voice | el had belonged to that sunshiny face), “and I am only sorry she cannot sit with me. But I will take care of her, and I am glad to see,” she ded laughing, “that you have condescended to find out at last that there is somebody else in the world besides people who live in Palaces. My dear,” she continued, taking my hand as I was presented, “we are late, I mean you are, so we vdonddh et yo you go and robe,” she said to Loxp AnrHracire. Papa nodded to me, and the Duchess took me through halls and corridors, until we reached a splendid room, fall of colour and aephine 3 and a perfect crowd of officers in uniform, glittering cuitasses and waving feathers; beef-eaters, with their wonderful ruffs; theatrical-looking pages; noblemen in scarlet robes, barred according to rank; two or three judges (who laughed more than anybody), and a few ladies splendidly dressed, but nobody had such diamonds as my conductress. The throng made way for her instantly ; she had a look and a smile for everybody—and we passed through a beautifully carved doorway, and were in the House of Lords. Of course I had seen the chamber, but the seeing it empty or with a dozen carelessly dressed gentlemen scattered about it, is quite another = seeing it applied to the purpose for which I am certain it was built. Mn. Barry meant, (and I wonder he has never had the co to say so) that the Lords should meet in one of their com- fortable libraries or refreshment rooms, and that the “‘ House” should be kept for the Queen and the ladies. The gilding the coloured glass, the frescoes, the statues, the heraldry, and all the rich and glittering ornament at once fall into their place in the picture, when the body of the chamber is filled with ladies, and the gor eous throne-work becomes a mere background to the of the y of England. However. these were after thoughts, ior, at the moment, I could only think of what was going to be done with me. Such a polite gentleman (and yet his tone was a little peremptory, as if he were accustomed to deal with unreasonable requests) came up, and showing the Duchess a seat on | the benches to left, looked at me deubtfully, as much as to say, | “Surely Lavy Berrua’s hair is lighter than that.” **T want you, Six Trsentus,” said the Duchess, “to put this young | a | into the very best place in the whole House, and I am sure you

» ** Not a Peeress, I think ?” said the pationen, bowing. “ Not at present,” said the Duchess, demurely. “ Tn that case, this.way,” said the gentleman ; and he conducted me to the right of the Throne, and below a compartment, in front of which forms of the civilised and uncivilised world. There were several rows of benches, full of untitled ladies, and they looked at me as we ladies always look at a + with the expression which says, “ There is no room, or if there is, 1 am not going to make it for you.” But Sim TIBERIUS was peremptory, and a most vinegar-faced dowager was obliged to put up with only about as much room as was necessary, instead of expanding over three times her rightful seat. The Duchess came over, saw me comfortably placed, and said that we should meet after the ceremony. ; The vinegar-faced dowager examined me haughtily for some time, and then said in a grim voice— ** Who was that lady P” “The Ducusss oF Liancouten,”’ I replied. _O dear, how she softened! Had I never been there before? O, how nice, as she could tell me everything. Those seats opposite were for the Peeresses and their families; these, for untitled people. The judges were clustering, I could see, in the middie—their wigs like a bunch of mushrooms. A row of noblemen had the front places all round. That was the Duke: how well he looked. Those dukes up there? No, my dear, those are the newspapers—I mean the writers. That is Lop Jonzs, whose wife ran away from him, and there is Lorxp Saurrn, who ran away from his wife, isthe Luxe or Hzcua, celebrated for logical powers and red hair. There is the Paemier—no, there, with his ~_ to his eye, meditating a joke, I dare say, on somebody. The nobleman with the curl is Lorp MESBURY ; he is bending to the Austrian Official in blue. That is an Oriental prince; he murdered with his own hand sixty of his uncles and aunts—I am in great hopes to meet him ata party next week—look at his emeralds! Ah! the guns—how punctual the QuzEN always is! _ And then came the procession, and the imposing group into which it formed itself around the Sovereign, making with its accessories a whole constitutional history of England, told to the eye and illuminated. And then the formalities, the stately Speaker of the Common with his black-coated constituents swarming behind him, and his prow but courtly address on their behalf, And a ing Chancellor, ting the speech to Hen Masesry much be’ ALBANY resen will look when he does it—and then » clear eens Senvery by the is reading the QueEEN, who leaves you the im ever, he received my answer very good sent me some extraordinary nectarines, of Mars, Lat Gone Banciz.

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B Q | : S = i $e aoe: Silene sali desu ebilinaien ailhaetee,

has again shone upon the hustings. He voted for Free ‘Trad - =~. denounce Protection, will Six Fitzroy, asks the orrence of measures W! he could not some personal inconvenience.” Catch a weasei asleep. will keep awake to run off with the ermine.

A DOUBTFUL POINT. was caught by the following passage :— the small amount of stability guaranteed us by the now; for if Matmessury’s F ‘ i U FS i as FF i SIR FITZROY WEASEL KELLY. Frrzroy Ketiy—the brass-plate to the door of Downing Street— ZI Spee sen sarees hp Saas. ‘And then the farewell by , and the closing and intermingling of the most variegated : <5 es 2 PY ee ‘s measure of e, and now denounces it. Of course: our Solicitor-General holds a brief for the Cabinet. If, however, igen pena: should omic “ As on a former occasion, continue to his office, and wait for some judicial C A ‘ I dignity to drop. Five or six years hence, it will be time enough to proclaim his ab- were some bishops, and behind them glittering attachés, in all the uni-| » of hich at the moment without incurring Will Siz Fitzroy continue to. ne ie office? Of course he will. And Sim ROY is precisely the weasel that Looxine over a file of the Zimes newspaper the other day, our eye “ T consider as great Oriminals those who, by personal ambition, would compromise These, gentle reader, are the words of Paestpent Louis NaPoizon, pel Bh a oe to a anes Assembly Bag its may Br ovem : ir quo we think, is rather opportune if Lorn Mataxssunr's "Extradition of Foreign Crimi riminals Bill” had passed into law, it clearly might have been questioned to send him back again.

Our Dog Day Number. readers this week would have been attended with some been surmounted by the coolest im

last Wednesday no less than 18 penny ices! He

away ever since, Wa bed ene pee in consequence of the heat, of presen’ wit: A number of iced Punch ; but having to go to press rather before publication, it occurred to us that the weather might change in the meamwhile ; and besides, the refrigerative process difficulty, which could only have of whether, in the event of the above speaker seeking refuge on our shores, we should not have been bound, upon his own “ considering,” ting our Diseustine Feat.—An Irish Barrister eat in Hungerford Market has been melting

oat gi io

AISNE TY RRL A TE Ae

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PUNCH, OR THE \Y = \\S Soom WK SS : A\\ PLUMP NS | GCAMMON - ca THE “REAL SS " oF Ue, NS | PEOPLE 4 & eel (ASS See 7 ‘a va > q 7x > . PAs \ é = * > e ti ‘ae > ~ bi INR 7 _——— “tll I ‘a E INTERESTING SCENE DURING THE CANVASS FOR MR. —, NOT A HUNDRED MILES FROM —. Wife of Free and Independent. “Ou! ain’? HE A HaFraBLE GENTLEMAN, Tummus ?” Free and Inde WARN’T ABLE TO dent. “An! gust AIN'T ’UN. aY MY Rent T0-MORRER!” & THOSE WHO RUN MAY SMELL. * — I sHoutpn’r Wonper 1F I Tue last strain broke the camel's back, the last mouthful the last “ twopenn’orth of settle suffocated the alderman, and - of blue- —a noxious congregation of from certain gas-wor likely to prove fatal to that old nuisance, Father mes. Some ; with anne hardened beat a ater Sean or fluvial effluvia, as (Ta : o : tame of thal redolat matte bring’ bac weet have been taken which threaten to have a pes ag aot an immediate effect on the degraded old river. If “ biue- jack” may be interdic why may not. canine i B | also py ex why Id ¢ i m | regard as “a less necessary cat,” the feline thrown in from time to time, to give what may ‘ can to the liquid which Rao 80 Man ables We have aldermen undertaki i to. put sorts of im Soptstioe taeda mae ee can there be a finer field for the exercise of those levelling propensities than in attempting to put down the Thames? We should hardly be rpm to quarrel with civic ambition. if it were to take the bold direction of an effort to set the Thames on fire, and thus rid the metropolis of a pest that has always been in the worst possible odour with the public at large. A LONG PULL AND A STRONG PULL. Tr is said that a German is contemplating a swim across the channel from Calais to Dover. _We recommend him to turn his thoughts, before it is too late, into some other channel, for we suspect the British Channel will not supply to hi the tide {that leads on to fortune. Perhaps the German heard the old song of “ The ducks and the geese they al! swim over,” and he may be of opinion thaf, as a goose, he is likely to accom-- plish the passage he contemplates. It would be very awkward if the sea were to turn rough when he had proceeded a few miles on his way, and it must be rémembered that Neptune is a smooth-faced hypocrite, whose placidity is not to be relied on for a single hour. 4 FREEMASONRY OF THE Wonrtp.—Sympathy, CHARGE, LANDLORDS, CHARGE. As the ery of “ protection” is always being addressed to us by the landlords in general, we think we are justified in calling on the landlords of hotels, in these days of. locomotion, to favour us with “ protection” against that disagreeable species of taxation to which we are exposed, in the shape of fees to the waiters and servants of their establishments. We intend to agitate for a reform of this abuse by insisting on the including of these charges in the bill, and we have resolved that “the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but the bill” is the watchword we will ring, as if all his bells were going at once to the same tune, in the ears of every hotel-keeper. In many instances the reform has been already carried out ; but we are determined. that it shall. be general, and that the anomaly shall cease of an addition of 4 ee per cent. to the price of a mutton- chop, for the waiter who hands it to us, or the addition of an equal per centage to the cost of a bed for a mam, fe the benefit of the chambermaid who has had the making of it. The purchaser of a pair of gloves for three-and-sixpence might just as well be expected to hand eeg additional rye to the as who = . paper, or the passenger in a og oped omnibus might with equa reason add a penny to the fare, for the conductor who opens the door to let him in and let him out again. hie We bave some idea of appointing a commission to inquire into hotel abuses, and we know of none so objectionable as the abuse a traveller receives either y or covertly from isfied waiters, who have been dependent for their remuneration on “what the visitor pleases,” and whose pleasure has been shown in the practice of a rigid economy. A Babe at a Bull-Fight. Tasers has been a grand bull-fight at Madrid, in aid of the poor! The Quzen saw the fun, nag pnaeirl with her, the baby Princess OF THE AstuRIAS! ildren are often wet-n' by she- gout ; but it does seem a little odd to bring up a baby upon bull’s AN ALARMING SACRIFICE! - MatTRIMONIAL “ sacrifices” are by no means newtovus. Almost daily are we ee of somebody or other of our ‘acquaintance havi ‘thrown himself away,” as our informants phrase it, 6n the Hymen Altar; and with the feminine converse to this. our ‘ears are scarcely less familiar. But the following instance we certainly were unprepared for, a = all a mma it - = — ali We stumbled on it lately in one of those interesting sheets, the’ Supplements — with an address as voucher, it stands authentically recorded us :— ia G ACRIFICE.—FOR SALE, in consequence of a slight domestic difference, avery superior and well bred gelding, new Newport Pagnel cart, and plated harness : also a thorough-bred hack, with bridle, saddle, and clothing. The “above tleman a hundred guineas within the last two months, now be refused. Of “domestic differences,” we are, perhaps, not utterly unqualified’ to speak, but we must confess that the above quite passes ‘our’ experience. We are morally convinced, indeed, that our darling Jupy: could never so inordinately “differ”? with -us, as to occasion the necessity for our clearing out our stables in sucha horribly wholesale }' way as this. It really reminds us of Hercuies and the Stud. And to think that with these tremendous consequences, the “ differ- ence” in question is absolutely reckoned “ slight!” . Sincerely doawe: pity the unfortunate “ gentleman” who, by painful comparison, is foreed to say so. If this be a specimen of his “‘ slight domestic differences” a terrible problem at once suggests itself, which the marital ‘mind: }: instinctively shudders to solve ! sitter ag buat j cost a no reasonable offer will’ ed ores Pity for Protectionists. A somes. Lady, resident in Dw of the chief towns of Hg county, observing some mtiemen, we seven’ , te ew phy SP stone, and being informed that they were i remarked that “she was sure they edb be very much Facet ye hot weather.” Printed by William B , of No. 13, Upper Woburn in the Parish of St. ick Mallett Evans, of No.7, Church Row, pen er iy ay peg ba omer = ar a and Frederi: Office in Lombard Street, in the Precinct of Whitefriars, in the City of Londo», and Published by them at No. 8 Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride's in the City of London.—Sarvapar,

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARTVART. A PLEA FOR HERNE BAY. E used to hear a great deal about the “Annexation” of Texaa; the “Union” ce was the 8 excitement, but though are passed, we see, “ ng in the future,” the probability that some day hear of the proposed “Annexation” erne Bay,and the Union that, watering-place with the ren of England. At present, the Bay and its inhabitants remah ones from the res ellow subjects, an there is & plida; : | | = 26 —— { (| IL is i ,\ a > 14 { forced upon the set the by the apathy of their fellow countrymen, is becoming every day more tolerable to the former, and they are beginning to delight in a wil “Cipusivenes, which causes -them to discourage all approach to their shingly and jelly- shy shore. t _. if a steam-boat does Residentalty ‘put in” with a few voyagers, it is met, in the first place, by a spirit of Protectionism and high prices in the shape of pier dues, which almost amount to probibition against the landing of passengers. We regret to perceive that this state of isolation is “telling” frightfully upon the inhabitants of Herne Bay, and giving a sort of Yahoo-like wildness to a race once remarkable for gentleness, Nature is still beautiful; but Art is falling under the hands of barbarism, and the handsome buildings that have been extravagantly put up are being knocked barbarously down again. The Kent Hotel has bad all its rooms and rafters taken out, its entrance-steps carried away, ite pests demolished, pad shee of ite ay thy are still siendin as a she’ a stud of goats, which, in g , seem to form the chief wealth of the The one policeman, lace. Savers. has gone most rapidly forward ; for, though Jast year only an ordinary constable, we found him this year in full superintendent’s uniform, having we suppose promoted himself to his present elevated rank, for his own—no doubt—meritorious services, The only Government officer is the postman, who has added to the poraait of “ letters ” the dealing in fish and fruit, when there happens 0 be any. THE ECCLESIASTICAL EXTINGUISHER. Amore the various uses to which a mitre may be applied, one is that of an extinguisher. It is supposed to have been invented and made partly for the e of putting out New Lights of a delusive nature: ecclesiastical Will-o’-the-Wisps. People, therefore, naturally wonder that it has not been promptly oped down upon the candles which the Puseyan Methodists are in the habit of burning in broad day: and many imagine that it is an instrument unmanageable, without much trouble, for that sort of operation. The fault, however, is not in the mitre itself. How readily it can be popped over a burning and sb ining light, at its proprietor’s pleasure, may appear from the subjoine paragraph from the Globe :— “FuetTHer Mowirion or Mz, Grapstorr.— Mr. Guapstows, who has accepted the pastorate of a Free Episcopal Church at St. Mary’s, Torquay, was to have preached Senaeeas fits as atzsor tise cs sheet canning tan hay Ss decision of that Court.” se, ; But the Grapstonse candle here in question is the Low Dip, and not, as its name would imply, the High Oxford Mould. A vulgar glim like this can be tmceremoniously doused; but the other can only be a not to shine—or begged to remove itself and shine at Frome, or elsewhere. It is a genteel em were patronised largely by the nobility and gentry: a superior article—many degrees above the Thirty-Nine—in vogue with the superior classes. It is also @ candle that throws a fine lustre upon prelacy: and is to be gingerly snuffed by and not put out. ‘There is one sort of candle, probably, that Mn. Giapsrone’s ben te A the Bishop won't let Mr. Giapstowe shake him off— would be disposed to suffer him to burn just now; a small taper, to be "eat of their Ni d Th borne by the reverend without his boots. And equivalent very right of ¢e sed, | infringed when & highway P tleman Stan te aoa hove humiliation, his mouth is to be stopped—no matter if closure shall involve starvation. Fi " "h i established loaves humble food which What then is Se ire and is fain fishes, is fain is prevé about the town in a white sheet we are said to be itted to this or an its ‘or Mz. Guapstong, having resigned to support do eat—but he may not. himself on the more told is the birth- 80 grievously g in the Queen’s LAMENT ON THE DEA‘ JOHN DOE AND Grind guitors’ bones for la No more shall Ricuarp ho ose who have a right to No more shall Doz by, The lawful owner of a Continuing hostility Until for him who “ But thongs I mourn thee, Doz e ‘ oes who On your Heal T ine By shamefal eg O Still left us in the frig! “ r ” d Thro all but But all p be old RICHARD RB By a Junior of Forty Yeurt the feld trom for costs’ takes,” at 8 let them been bro coi the sum total into last there's nothing left to take. Rog, in conscience I confess, more, none have deserv’d it less : Hoe lig ro ate would ew away regret, ‘or your ruined victims in eve The list of babkra’ aa least, nor bat there are real ills, htful shape of real lawyers’ bills : attendances ” our senses still amaze, ers’ breed aided ald hella dose | Gazette ; wd, and teach them then to know ; ht to it by either Doz or Ro. d legal fictions, by shams and humbugs vast, which you have been long the types—not Sham pleas, sham issues are B quite the last. a misty haze. € monstrosities are surely p oer to go, For what imposture caz survive Jouw Doz and Ricuagp Roz ? A GREAT MISTAKE IN THE TIMES. Iz is not often But a remark a trary to fact, nay, so inconsistent with our assertions and arguments, that we are com Ina notice of the annual agricultural gathering at our contemporary said :— inaccuracy. MecuHi’s t that we find ourselves at the other day in t npell ious issue with the Times. journal, so entirely con- porary’s own previous to point out its “Mr. Mrcut does for his crops what the Water Companies of London attempt, but do not succeed in effecting for its inhabitants.” sid What HI does for us cro Times to be the distribution of jay in supplyi that i T the Wickes Companies 2 Mz. Mecut manages it—for the Lon is anteriorly explained by th manure on his, Jand, ie PE he pot tg with o—though not qui condabtes, so cleverly, perhaps, as Protectionist Election A1n.— Obvious. Catch. jig hes eco: r Te 4 And high we ’ll buy, and never “ sell ” ’ee! AN EXCELLENT PRESERVATIVE FOR OUT-DOOR WORK. Tre your door-knocker up with @ kid glove, and lay down straw in from morning till front of your teks you will have an organ working away outside Provexs BY Da, Puszy.—When you are at Oxford, do as the Romans d 0. Untrorm Fra having served in the up.—The unifokm Lovis Narotzon wears, he néver French army. VOL, XXIII, G

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dt me = aa (7 tdZ ae ae 2G Cae aw. ~~. Y} My WH BY I, /} Uf Vi f] my i } f yy j i) gna ai Late ‘| Mink il ull « THE POOR OLD KOH-I-NOOR AGAIN ! 1, Tae Kou-1-noor. 22. Tae Dotcu Artists. 333. Tus Requisirg MacHInERyY. 4. Tue “Dook” MANIFESTING GREAT INTEREST IN THE Precious Gem. 555. Emment Screntiric Mew watcHIne PROCEEDINGS, THE KOH-I-NOOR CUT AND COME AGAIN. Everysopy knows that “ All that Glitters is not Gold,” and it had been suspected by some that the reverse of the ory may be true, and that a diamond which will not sparkle may, after all, be no diamond. ‘The Mountain of Light behaved so obstinately during the Great Exhibition as to have worn a gloom which nothing could dispel; and it seems since to have struck the parties interested, that a precious stone which can shine and won’t shine, ought to be made to shine, even though a painful operation should be requisite. e hardly know how to describe the nature.of the operation, unless we compare it to the removal of cataract from the Mountain, so as to bring out the eye of the Koh-i-Noor into a state of brilliancy. Numerous consultations were held over the case of this illustrious patient, and it was at length resolved that the Mountain should be taken to the operator—because, we presume, it was not convenient for the operator to go to the Mountain. Previous to the removal of the patient several opinions were taken as to the possibility of performing the operation without a fatal result, and Prorgssor Tennant was called in, who consulted with Mr. Mircuet.; when, after considering the conse- quences involved in the principle of Diamond cut Diamond, these savands ultimately reported on the experiment. They thought the operation would be attended with serious danger to the patient’s side, and they refused to answer for the consequences of any lateral cutting; but, after looking at the gem on the right and left, they admitted there was something to be said on both sides. This was so unsatisfactory that the friends of the Koh-i-Noor determined on getting “other advice,” and Messxs. Garrarp, the silversmiths of Panton Street, were instructed to “call in” anybody they thought proper. They imme- diately sent to Amsterdam for two Dutchmen, on the principle, perhaps, that when a difficult process has to be performed, the exclamation, “If I do it, I’m a Dutchman,” is a common form of declining the responsibility of undertaking it. The Dutchmen, with the characteristic audacity of their race, pro- nounced the operation possible; and, fortified by this opinion, the ties had, for the first time, the spirit and liberality to order the ‘requisite machinery,” — of “a small steam-engine,” of from 0 two to four-horse power—a force Lomengy between that of a Blackwall ’bus and an o coal-waggon. The putting up of this trumpery little machine on the premises “under the direction of Mr. Josnva Fiexp, of the firm of Maupstay, Freip, anp Son,” was, it seems, a most elaborate business, and excited the interest of no less a perso’ than F, M. the Duxe or WELiINeTow, who went back- wards and forwards several times to see how it got on, just as we ourselves, in our very young days, would go to and fro times to a neighbouring court to witness the progress made in the construction of a grotto on oyster day. As the culminating point of interest would of course be the introduction of the light in the latter case, so, in the former, the placing of the Mountain in the i was the ceremony that chiefly attracted the Duke, who was “ received” on the occasion —and on the mat—by the Messrs, GARRARD. : é The important opens was then commenced lacing the illus- trious patient on a bed of lead, to which it was carefully confined—lest it should wince, we suppose—and the Duke with his own hand the gem in the position necessary for cutting. A small portion of the body was removed, but this was thought to be as much as the cout safely bear on one day, and the operation was Meseninanek to be resumed at intervals for some months to come—the Dutch operators remaining in attendance on the patient during the whole period. We suppose it is absolutely necessary to make such a very long job of it, though it might occur to the economist to ask the question whether the Deishnan might not just as well “cut, and come again” should they be wanted ? . ‘ After all this fuss had been made, and = ¥ B wag) to, a discussion arose as to whether the patient really is itself after all—whether the Koh-i-Noor is the Koh-i-Noor ?—a query that seems to us a little like taking off a man’s leg, and then proceeding to ask whether he is the individual in whose case amputation is required. It is ) when a beadle thrashes the wrong boy, but it will be too bad if the savants, and the Dutchmen, and the Duke, have after all, got hold of the wrong diamond. : : as ba re The account of the operation on the Koh-i-Noor is varied by a short off-hand allusion to a misfortune to Mr. GaRRarp, who “ fell through an aperture,” poor man, and broke his leg; but we hear not more of this, and the account of the «gp ye on the KohiNoor pro- ceeded with, Ma. Garsarp might, st seems, have been broken to pieces, and Jeft to collect himself as he best could, without canting one-hundredth part of the sympathy that would have been clai by tee y sed for the Koh-i-Noor if it had sustained the smallest ible damage. “i the operation on the Mountain of Light is to be a work of several

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 55 months, we shall of course be fayoured with a regular series of bulletins, but we hope we shall not be stigmatised as brutes wholl insensible to the beauties of the Koh-i-Noor, if we admit that we s hear with more pleasure of the restoration of Mz, GapRapp’s leg, than of the favourable progress of the diamond, . A RABBLE CATECHISM FOR M.P.’S, Respectfully Dedicated te Mason Beresrorp, M.P. for North Essex ; Ex-Tory Whipper-in, Secretary-at-War ; with every possible etcetera, Wuat is rabble ? Rabble i Ge isa Q. Bi r P I eee aa . Of what are they ordinarily composed ? - Mud, tempered with ditch-water. Sometimes they are made of scrapings ; they are sometimes found of pure clay. Q. Are you aware that all men are said to be made of dust ? 4, There is, I believe, a popular error to that effect; but the fallacy does not obtain in good society. A - you aware that Apam signifies, in the original tongue, red ear ; A. Possibly. It may, and it mayn’t. Don’t know. Q. What is your duty towards the rabble ? A, My duty towards the rabble is, from the very bottom of my sant (wherever that may be) to loathe, detest, hate, and abhor em, _ Q. As everything has —— in the condition of the world, what— in your opinion—in the e of creation, is the proper place of the rabble? Take, for instance, an individual. One of the rabble ? A. I think #¢ holds— Q. It? You will be pleased—though with some violence to the prejudices of your birth and education—to speak of the rabble as persons not as things. p A, Very well; from the bottom of my heart. Well, then, 1 believe that one of the rabble is a—yes—a sort of link between an ape and a contented labo think, read of apes that chop sticks and ion of creatures that hiss and hoot. Exon rer. I have, draw water, and walk upright on two legs; I have no doubt that moral anatomy would establish the analogy. No doubt of it. Yes; one of the rabble is a link between an ape and a labourer—a contented labourer. m Q. Has the rabble any voice ? A, Certainly not: it is the want of voice that is the rabble’s Se ee want. Q. No voice whatever? A, None: that is—no articulate voice. The rabble can hoot, and hiss, and groan, and gabble; and that is the reason why every gentle- man, from the very bottom of his heart, is bound to despise it. Q. But supposing that the rabble could, by Act of Parliament, for instance, obtain voices—they would then be rabble no longer ? A, Certainly not. Just as a porwigle when it grows toa frog, and comes to its croak, is a frog, and no longer a porwigle. Q. The rabble, having no articulate voices, you conceive it to be your bey duty to hate, and, from the bottom of your heart, despise them A, Ido. Q. But, having obtained voices, the rabble would then be to you— A, Every one of them a man and a brother; that is—at Election times. Yes; from the bottom of my heart, a man and a brother. A RABBLE CATECHISM FOR THE RABBLE. Q. What are you? A, One o’ the rabble. Q. What makes you of the rabble P A, Nothin’ makes me; got nothin’; that’s why nothin’ does it. Q. What is your place in the world ? . A, Got no place by rights: only what the gentlefolks is so kind— heaven bless ’em!—is so kind to grant me. Q. What are your duties in life ? A, My duties is to pay duties on ’bacca, and on whatsomever there = be put upon—tea and beer and so forth—and ax no questions. . Have you any voice at elections P A, Yes; when I hollars, Q. But you have no vote ? A. In course not. ’Cause I’m one o’ the rabble. Q. And as one of the rabble—what are you to expect from the| f gentlemen who ose themselves—for the benefit of the country—to be Members of Parliament ? A. Lam to expect, and not a bit to mind it, to be despised from the umn. 2 seaabiaie Q. Were you created for that P 4, Iwas. As badgers were made to be baited, foxes to be hunted, and to-be beaten to bits—so was the rabble made to be despised by Members of Parliament, ’specially when) majors, from the MISS VIOLET AND HER “ OFFERS.” ———— CHAPTER XIV. I nave been heartily vexed, and there is not a soul upon whom I can throw the blame, except one dear old soul, upon whom I would not throw any for the world—Aunty Ratcuet, who came to stay with me during papa’s absence at an election. I wanted papa to “ pair off” with Mr. PLUMPERTON, a icular friend of his, who was going to support the opposite candidate: but Mx. PLumpertow said, laughing, that he could not agree to this, as his candidate’s committee had written to beg that no voter would pair, unless he had broken his leg, or was too ill to go down, in which cases he might, as he would then clearly rob the other side of a vote, giving nothing in return. Papa said that the committee’s —— was as sharp a piece of Old Bailey attorneyism as he had ever seen; and he was quite glad it from the Exeter Hall y, as otherwise mere worldly people might have thought it scarcely honest. _ While papa was gone, an opera-box was sent him, which I gave to Aunty. e, in her good nature, immediately thought of some people who never been to the Opera, and upon whom she thought to confer a marvellous treat. The Girrinesss live at Rotherhithe, and I believe they are very well off, and, acco to Aunty RatcHet, very comfortable, as indeed she said—after the box had been sent away— anybody might see, who would go to Rotherhithe on a Sunday after- noon, and observe Girttines, with his coat off, smoking a pipe-at the parlour window. au j “T suppose, Aunt, dear,” I said in some perturbation, “he knows he must go to Covent Garden with his coat and without his pipe?” “He? Vity, darling! Catch him out of bed {after ten o'clock! But he will send his wife and daughter, and I suppose Marcaret’s intended will escort them—a very genteel young man, something ina lace house, I fancy.” i So I thought no more about the matter, and on the Saturday evening for which the box had been sent us, Aunt Ratcuet and I quietly - do ; I B3 | and she to listen to a ae poeta crashes easure the thing can experience, provided the book is one tan ery over & good deal. And as anybody who can write at all can write afflicting scenes, there is no difficulty in selecting a book to Aunty’s taste. We had fairly begun, and a shocking scene—a wife’s death by consump- tion, with savage bailiffs in the house, and poor little children crying for in the m just started our first flood of tears, and we were coming to the fi 's destroying himself, when a i carriage stopped at the door. | teens 3S was. naps, sad Sacied ont 30 seoetre ims tee stairs, just in time to make it impossible for the servant to say we were not at home to the Grrrineszs. Up they came, Mus. Girrines, and

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56 ~ PUNCH, OR THE LONDON GHARIVARI. Miss Marcarer Grrrin house, whose Hatt bak sti a and the from the c “ — developed so rudgabout, But I a thet the ITTINGS dev Co samen. 8 y € present of the box had been one of bewilderi ificence, that neither she, nor Mze, nor Mz. Sam Point (who was here introduced), had ever been to the Opera, and that come round in the ho of finding us at home, to beg that Miss Viouet (it was of no use, she knew, aking Aunty) would go with them, and put them—as she worded bag right way. They 4ad found us, and now would I be so very And then Aunt Ratcuet, i of instantly and emphatically declaring, as became her, that such @ thing was impossible—that I was too ill to leave the house—that in a quarter of an hour I was going to | Mario be fetched to a party at the ARcHBIsHor oF CanTERBURY’s—or that my father had written to me, co me, under pain of his per- petual anger, to wait his arrival, as he some painful news for me— or all three excuses together—must look first at me, and then at Mars. Girtines, and then smile, and then look at all of us, and finally say that she knew 1 was very fond of music, and there was nothing to | « keep me at home, and that she was to see young people pas Bs themselves—O, I could fare walled” the needles out of her knitting for her, I was in such a But what was I to do?—the r Mus. GitTineGs her case so ces pee and, though had never seen her before, she was an old friend of Aunty’s, an T could not tell her I did not want to make acquaintance with the fature Mrs. Sam er or her fiancé, and there was nobod: oie withou me—and, in short, thongh t, as Aunt gave up her dear nov a murmur, I ought not to ‘ibnatured—and I assented. If they had been going to be cast into a den of lions, and I had been a Miss Van Am h, the ery of joy they all set up at finding a protectress could hardly have been heartier. “I must dress, Aunt,” I said, “‘ but I shall not be long.” “O, I’m sure, Miss, you’ll do quite well as you are,” said Mr. Sam Port politely. “‘ Any change would be a c for the wus, T should say.” However, I oy Sy and sent for Aunty, and instead of scolding her the least little bit in the world, or letting her see my vexation I only made her apprise Mz. Point that his splendid blue stock, an all its spots, must be a sacrifice to operatic despotism. He fought hard for his finery, it seems, and I was ready by the time Aunt had persuaded him into a white cravat of papa’s, and even that foolish, red- cheeked, petulant Marcaket supported him in his obstinacy, and “thought it a great liberty on the part of the keeper of a theatre to dictate what people should wear.” wever, he put his glories care- fully into his et, and we went. I the =~ very quietly, and was very firm about sitting in the of the box,all the evening, alleging as a it was a very good one—that the scene was new to the others. The Prophéte was performed, but after the first ten minutes I saw they took little interest in it, and Mr. Port frankly said, later, that it was all very fine, but nothing to remember, and oe him something he could understand, with tunes that he could whistle next day. Di ManrcGaret remember how the Snambla had been done at the Wells ? That was music, if you liked, and when the Snambia dropped her candle- stick into the water, and the bridge broke, it was so natural-like. Marcanet, the red-cheeked, assented with almost a spiteful s. She seemed anxious to depreciate everything, and was clearly out of humour, and I was the cause, and it would be affectation to pretend I did not know why, She was very smart, and her cris hair, though not very fine, was el f out, and her brooc was immense, as were her bracelets; she a) pe many ribbons of bright colours, and she was or showy. I was quietly dressed in white, with my hair plain, with ly an ornament. And yet she managed, though carling, bet clever, to find out that I looked better than she did, and that Sam Pont was also finding out the fact. She perfectly snubbed me, and was downright rude when I ventured to tell her what parts of the Opera were considered finest ; but when I looked away, she was constantly studying my dress, and I was certain that she was mental memoran it. But this was nothing. An ill-bred girl from Rotherhithe was not likely to put me out of humour.. But Mr. Sam Point became actively disagree- le. After the first act, he found out the refreshment- and con- ceived it his duty, between every act thenceforth, to send confectionary, with ices, jellies, wafers,’ a q them upon.us with the air of an old-fashioned host doing the honours at dinner. To all my refusals he was quite deaf, and almost forced the Game's Se Bee er ; and then a i im in regard to my objecti sulky, and wait 2b few GARRET was demanded wards ahd the country cost tingly me in conversation at the door. Ba con’ He stumbled back to the i But Margaret Grrtmes was But he deserved all he may have unnecessarily disagreeable. p | evening FOOL! FOOL! FOOL! ame week ose €t Sap Tes enter the army if req seems to us something rather in ting one who has bee ** life of the ring,” to make the death of body ; should ha might have been his “clownish would think of dragging Barry from the ring at him into the ranks as a private, and withdraw capacity? If his services should ever be i him from d|see him on one of Batry’s horses, as his ¢ to glory by HAL WIDDICOMBE. r, th thevgh country clowns may make very militia-men, Paris and London clowns should be exemptfrom all military duty. We can imagine Barry called upon to take part in a day’s drill, and ess the well-known Astleian question, “‘ Does your mother know you’re out P” to his commanding officer. THE INCORRIGIBLE RIVER. Ox! attempt not to sweeten the feculent stream, a — that — oo nn drains ; ' 01 ransparent as crys ew seem, All the soluble filth in that fluid renal” You may strain—you may filter the Thames oo 70 will— And brighten the slush of that great open ; But the salts of ammonia will hang in it sta And you’ll get, after all, a detestable 4 Complexion of Politics. No great change in the relation of parties has resulted from the election. The consequence of the Dersy Ministry’s having “ = in the ang dae, is cooly thht mest Of them have late 4 7 sunburnt. How to Frx Tan.—Give him plen Sanh ge vee ot = “ preserved meats,” and you will easily

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i x Mh > 7 ip yl nee (ah) See off ‘| H ty iy ANU I nh B | AK : es I: ran Apa Hii WM Int i ei ase | ! j i. | Ny Ms || ae ih vr aaee jas. fi AY | Ht if sf ; r t ih ii it oe ULe Uh " 7 ; a 7 | a | ie SSS ——_— uly Ip y ’ (i iM | ff al ws Me oe | Za Ul) oP; al go | et oi *. 4 4 igs I a i a , (ie WW it ‘lie A GOLD FIELD IN THE “ DIGGINS.” Jury 31, 1852,

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PSST IO ESR TASTE PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVART. A WAG OF THE COUNTRY PARTY. THE BETTING-OFFICE FREQUENTER’S VER i FROGI ee Am.—" She wore a Wreath of Roses.” oc amas| «— Suruarite kare p in 2 night we _ a case of great abil knowingly his hat was in a pooner lige~4o nore his curls of jet ; the attention ‘ Publics he ented, econ pat PR . R Cards ya ave Cc ry many Weep gO}, which occurred the other To ease them of their “tm.” day at ingborough, I saw him in his on the occasion of wie bg cippre ibtfal now), North N en to his om, shire election. this His admiring chums would bow should have A betting-book he’d oe a When saxt this youth | sew; markabie, 8 And hourly he was lounging tectionists, who formed Some Betting-Office door : the electoral > Or treat to stable-bo thought proper to amuse a “weed” between his lips —— listening to their discourse and jeering the m “ events” « tips.” : tude of non-electors— He me then he stood to win otherwise, till suffrage-extension shall have rendered them respectable voters, “the A fi’ pun’ note or two, rabble.” As Protectionist jokes, if they could be carried out, would be jokes very Upon a “certain” prophecy— much at the said rabble’s expense, the subjects of these pleasantries were, as may Poubt if % came true. be supposed, considerably irritated thereby: when, says a morning contemporary,— sil la i once again I see you “ At length, one of the voters, a and professed to fraternise . a wit te crowd, praised the “big loaf cout sad aah tea amen plump for FrezwrtLtam, No betting-book is there : Arrived at the polling booth, he bawled out with needless ostentation ‘Srarrorp (Derbyite) ones The prison scissors close have cropped and then, turning round to the crowd, he ted them with a horse-laugh. The patience of is once luxuriant hair. bystanders was now fairly gone, and a pebble struck the farmer’s head” — : They tell that “cleaned” completely « out,” But, we are happy to say, did not break it. The casket containing ing such peculiarly closed his short career valuable teaasuiee "oo tobe enclosed in the cranium of this youthful agriculturist, ang with his master’s till, is doubtless of a s h sufficient to resist considerable violence. But the gift, or en drew near. specialty, of this rural genius should be turned to account ; ’ ore, we I see him he Government propose that a subscription should be raised for the purpose of providing him with His passage out will pay : a handsomely decorated horse-collar. By grinning through this at fairs and wakes, And at some | po settlement, he may afford innocent amusement to his fellow swains, and be rewarded, perhaps, He'll spend his Settling Day. peg bay wt y my po Beg wy 9 aye be preferable to noes ” —_ on us) ; for, as perhaps he has found, grinning on the wrong side of politic is apt to be ed by grinning on the wrong side of the mouth, This youth is : a Doubtful Victory. as yet un.nown to fame; but we will furnish him with an introduction, if he wishes} ‘as “America” has this year been beaten by British it, and will send us his name, that we may publish it together with a proposal for | sailors. But on this occasion she was manned with British subscriptions to get him a horse-collar. sailors too, THE COUNTRY GOING TO THE DOGS. To the Rieut Hon, Toe Cuancetior of THE ExcHEQueR. Ax you fond of potatoes, Disraz.i, my boy? * Broad beans with your bacon, say, do you enjoy ? Does your taste lean to cabbage !—d’ye like garden stuff ? At Wreonnbe you ’re likely to meet with enough, Your friends, my dear Ben, I presume you ’re aware, Have a union of thirty large parishes there; In which such abundance and plenty there reigns, That not one “able-bodied” the workhouse contains. Now the big loaf the mouths of the labourers stops: There are not enough inmates to eat up the crops Of the workhouse green meat in its garden that grow, And the Union’s accordingly selling it low. At Camberwell, too,—you will hear it with groans— They haven’t a pauper to break up the stones, And are going to advertise—such is the fact— For hands by whose labour the flints may be crack’d. And these are the fearful results of Free Trade ; We shall soon have no beggars, I’m almost afraid ; And unless the sad prospect: before us deceives, There ‘ll be even a great falling off in the thieves. A Pretty Safe Prophecy. Ws do not y put ourselves up for prophets; but, judging from the of the present elections, we think we can safely prophesy that the mys of the something which is “looming in the uture ond a doubt. It is the dismissal of the present Ministry A REDUCTIO AD ABSURDUM. b... telowiag ee ae So shuattty to which the ice of! otel servants—inde of the regular paren be ened: We take a ciadwich ab the "salijest tions, for, of course, every servant who has had a hand in is entitled, as much as the waiter, to get a slice out of it. Scullery maid, fo the saucepan. . jeg em bebe yon Nye e ‘; e e a Raper neag hy it into coffee-room Head waiter, for ing ittoconsumer . of our preparing it ocoooooces ROP et et nt et Gy Se a = University Intelligence, as Shortly to be Reported. OXFORD. In a convocation holden this day, the honorary degree of Doctor of OST Civil Law was conferred on the EREND MonsicNore | Bampretyo, Arcusisnor or Lozerro, latere from his Holiness the Por. The Reverend Fatuer O'Rourke B the English College at Rome, Doctor of Divinity, was admitted The Pontificalis (late Kegius) Professor of Hebrew, commenced his course of Lectures. THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TWO MINISTERS. Wuat is the difference between Lonp Joun Russet and p The difference is simply this: Russe.t gave us Corn, and gives us Chaff. A pmereh om TH Human Form.—A man without a breeches

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ae ga Far ll a Aan AREA ns oe pg Td Oe ; i H H + 2 4 % ae eve Sete. 0), yi. ce ila 0. mo Ca a ; Gr eaeIAR heer ty aC FTE erent es eet ASIANS PRAM Ath 4 = DE RR aeneeeneues eaeneetiens 62 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. a ik ws 4 j aun an , 7 . ‘Ti dl f} Ney) 4s “9 y ‘, PERILS OF PIC-NICS. Mr. Pipkin M\KES A VIGOROUS BUT UNSUCCESSFUL ErroRT TO SECURE Water Lity.” THINGS AND PERSONS THAT SHOULD EMIGRATE. Tur present rage is Emigration. If it goes on at this rate, there will be no one but ourselves left in England. ‘he great pity is, that some of the best people in England—all the labouring classes—the persons who enrich the country, are leaving it. ‘lhe producers are going, and we shall have nove but the consumers left. What then are we to do? for we look upon ourselves, partly, as consumers. If there is no market for our jokes—no one to buy them—not one happy soul left to laugh at them—it is clear Mr. Punch must starve! or go into the workhouse. It is under these starvation-looking prospects, that Mr. Punch ventures to lay down certain rules and regulations as to the Persons and Things only that should emigrate. He divides these rules and regulations into two classes—social and political. Of the political, he recommends the following to emigrate as soon as pos sible :-— Tue [nish Bricape to emigrate to Rome. They dono kind of good in England, are only in the way of legisia ion—whereas they might be | heard to great advantage in blowing the “ Pope’s Brass Band” in the | to leave t Vatican. _ Tus Prorecrionist Farmers, who are always declaring that it is impossible to get a living now in England. As they cannot live here, why don’t they try to live elsewhere ? ALL THOSE PensioneRs ON THe PzNstonw List who have never done anything to deserve the money they pocket every year. Of course, when —— are recommended to emigrate, it is understood that they are e money they annually receive behind them. Att tae Youneer Sons or tHe Nosiuiry, who have not been pushed into the Army or Navy. As it is indispensably necessary, it seems, to have soldiers and sailors, they may as well be roblemen as | not, so long as they fight well, and do not run away. But all the younger | AGRICULTURAL SWEATERS. Mr. Mecat, at his annual agricultural réunton, complai that the farmers did | ittle or nothing in the way of education | for their labourers. He urged that before much good could be done, much bad must be one, and he =~ “ drainage o s” as being equally necessary with “ drainage Pn We think the farmers practise tne art of draining heads pretty freely upon the labourers, if not upon themselves, for they certainly manage to get as much sweat | as can be obtained from the brows of their workmen. Monody on Protection. Protection sore long time we bore, Seditions were in vain; : But now his friends have given him o’er, He ’\| never wake again. EASILY PLEASED. Srrce the election of the Honourable | Member for Youn, and of the Honour- able Member for Bucks, the Scotch people say that the House is all a house need be |—it contains “ both a Butt and a Ben.” Meteorological Intelligence. We see by the country papers, that | very violent storms have ly been pre- valent throughout the kingdom. From our own special sources of Intelligence (we use this substantive in its intellectual sense), we are enabled confidently to | state, that the storms in question were | merely the Storms of Indignation with THAT DsRLiInG which the Protectionist candidates have | everywhere been received. “ sons, who are waiting for Ambassador-ships, Secretary-ships, and Attaché- ships, and other kind of Ships on which ‘here is no fighting, and very little work and very handsome pay, should emigrate as quickly as their debts will allow them, and see what they can do to earn a living in another country. With the Younger Sons of the Nobility, Lonp Manyers might also go. He has such a love for every thing in the shape of a nobleman, that he should emigrate by all means with the darling objects of his affections, and seek some land that flourishes without “arts and science, Jaws and Jearning.” Lorp Marpstone should accompany Lorp Manwens. They are the two = poets of the present Ministry. As he has prophesied that the Deluge must come, we should advise him to get out of England as fast as he can, unless he has a particular desire to be | drowned in it. Lorp Matmessury might take the same hint, as he has done every- | thing to lower the character of England, and consequently is no longer worthy to remain in it. All Youne Guarpsmen, who, poor fellows, have nothing to do, and amuse themselves by running into debt and gambling, and pelting harmless persons with peas and flour and rotten eggs. CarpiInaL Wiseman—for obvious reasons; for we are sure his emi- gration from England would be hailed by all classes me perhaps, his own) with the greatest delight. Let him goon a voyage of discovery for some happy, papish country, where he can grow, after his own fancy the “ little Paradise,” which he has not yet succeeded in planting round Westminster Abbey. All Puseyites—Bennetts—and those pendulum-clergymen, who keep vibrating between Protestantism and Popery, had better follow the Cardinal’s worthy example. They only breed dissension and scandal by ene in England. They had better join the Pope as soon as possible. Of the social class, the following might take the hint which we now generously give them, to leave the country as soon as their affairs will

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THE PINCH, OR * eet erer *) 27h Disciple of Old Isaac. L ONDON CHARTV ART eli ye « Lid ie 1 7,” K' wiaieY “THis WouLDN’t Bs a Bap PLace Ir THE FisH WOULD ONLY BiTE, AND IT WasN’T FOR THIS CONFOUNDED Wasr’s Nest.” | permit them. Their emigration, we are confident, would be attended | | with the greatest benefit to everybody. All Sheriff’s Officers. All Income-tax Gatherers. All Punsters and Conundrum-makers. All “ Wallflowers ” at evening parties. All Widows, as being a cangerous class of the community. All Linendrapers, who are always coming out with ‘ Failure,” or luring customers into their shops to be the victims of “ A Large Sacrifice.” All Quack Doctors and Advertising Professors, no matter ot 2 ge in the hair-cutting, or corn-cutting, or saltafory, or tonsorial, mesmeric, or electro-biological, or any other empirical line. All Persons who propose Toasts, and Sentiments, and Healths at convivial parties. All Persons who give imitations of Actors. All Persons who take you aside to tell you “ heard yesterday,’ All Mateh- making Ladies, for their officiousness in making matches would be of the greatest value in the colonies and India. All Young Men who smoke before the age of fifteen, and young ladies who wear ringlets after the age of thirty. All Cabmen and Omnibus nductors, who have been fined, or sent to hy wy ‘for change of hair”? more than six times. | Fast Young Ladies, who drive dog-carts, and row, and smoke, - a the cornet-a-piston, &c. &c. “Al Old Ladies who keep more than two dogs, or the same number of a funny thing they mri Mothers-in- i“ without a single exception. All &. &, &e. & Of the Things that should emigrate, we propose the following :— The Statues and Monuments and so called Fmbellishments (the names of which would be too numerous to mention) of London. What is left of the Wood Pavement. The Railing round St. Paul’s Cathedral. All Betting-Offices and Public-Houses, where the “ Latest Odds can be seen within.” We think, when the above Persons and Things have all emigrated, ‘An Alarming | that London will be so greatly improved that no one will recognise it as the same ugly city; and that, as for England, it will be one of the —— places an Englishman could wish to live in. Let the migration commence by all means next week, and be carried out (of | the kingdom) on the most extensive scale ! The Downing Street Deluge. Ir is understood that the Kari ory Denny being well assured, from the election returns, of the catastrophe predicted at Westminster by the small-beer poet Matpstong, will make the earliest preparations to meet and provide for the Deluge that must come down. Among | other matters of the sort, will be the creation of the CuanceLion oF THE Excuequer as a peer. Mu. Diskaeii has not quite settled his title; we understand tha’ the Right Honourable gentleman hesitates ‘between Baron Ham and Banow Japuer. AN EXTRACT FROM OUR POLITICAL DICTIONARY, yj peso is ag 4 of i ~ Pra) tro of t must from (thus rical), from the popular notion that every Member of Pasliemont is more or less 2 Quek. Protectionist Unction. (ADVEBTIOEMEST. ) It is not generally known that Ministerial tlemen, in going to the Country this summer, were provided wi a pleutiful supply of Goose Grease, warranted to impart that snalinen to the Tongue so efficacious in appealing to an Agricultural Constituency. Sold by Densy, Disragui, ayp Co., at their depot in Downing Street. Tue worst Featunes or sw Hoxticuituna, Suow.—Old Man, and Grog Blossoms. Six or one anv Half a Dozen or THe oTven.—“* The Tories’ Difficulty is the Whigs’ Opportunity,” and otce versd,

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64 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. DOUBLE DEALINGS. ‘ Devoren Protectionist of my acquaint- ance, Mr. kh, who is also a most poy are Free Trader, — o-. thing of a poetical tu as twiste some of his friends’ late hustings oun into the following ditty. ‘ossibly, Mr. Punch, under your if may ile the sorrows to get it by * Yours truly, “A Exar Traver Like Onnistoruer, & ECTIONIST LIKE THE CREED OF THE DERBYITE, Brotuer Exectors, The Wttlé aécount you'll have from me As clear as mud is going to be, } put any question you like to try BL d I wish you may get areply, ise bun: Dizzy, and glory ! For the poor man’s loaf I shall certainly vote, =e And I wish it may stick in the poor man’s t 8 5 And all “the old women” may drink“ cheap tea,” And visibly swell, if oy please, for me, Sing Dexsy, Drzzy, and glory ! 1 want cheap sugar, cheap beer, cheap law, For “ the vilest rabble that ever I saw,” And I’m all for the people, or rather “the mob, Whom I loathe and scorn,” like a bit of a snob, Sing Dersy, D'zzy, and glory! I’ll make you respected all the world round, For each floor’d Briton I'll ask ten pound, And press for a “ compensation ” meet, And fall on my knees at Nexo’s feet Sing MaLMesBury, Marner, and glory ! I go for reforming every abuse, And I think Reform is the very deuce, And 1’)! never restore the tax on grain, And I swear Free Trade is ruin and bane, Sing Dersy, Dizzy, and glory. All men shall! follow what faith they choose, And we'll sack the chapels, and brand the Jews ; And no one shall suffer because of his creed, So vote for a DisRae.ite indeed, And sing Dersy, Dizzy, and glory ! MOSSES FROM AN OLD CATHEDRAL, Twere has been a very pleasant book, by a very pleasant American writer, published here under the name of Aosses from an old Manse. Is there not something smacking of graceful old sentiment, and a certain pious stillness in that title? One can interest oneself in the routine of a quiet imaginative life in an old Manse very well. But it is our benevolent nature, reader, to see in everything— literary and other—the possibility of some good being done to our respectable countrymen. This is no affectation, BLoca!—We never contemplated in the green solitude of the country some quiet white) lake, without thinking how nice it would be if the Black Brothers of the Order of St. Anthony could be induced to lave themselves, No. We never saw in a country village a deserted, grass-covered pound, without thinking of a Protectionist. . So, now to apply this remark to the subject in hand, which is always better than beating about the bush. What we want is to suggest to some novelist to do, for the benefit of the public, Mosses from an old— Cathedral. Reader, do you smell arat? Possibly, probably, you do, for we are verging on the subject of corruption: in truth, we want to see our novelist apply himself to the illustration of such Cathedral questions as those opened by the case of Mz. Wuiston. How the imagination, perching itself in some holy nook of a _ Cathedral (after paying sixpence entrance fee to the verger), could pro- ceed to gather mosses from the contemplation of the scene! The marble knights lying so still there, with their legs crossed—do they not symbolise the stony silence of Da, Murrin, when a voice is raised about the abuses of his trusts? The epitaphs on the vaulted floors— their owners lie—minding not what feet are tramping on their names and honour—so that their peace be not disturbed. The odd, quaint cherubs perched against the walls with eyes upwards—what are these but the little Murrins, gazing up at the good things in prospect aloft, walls? Then, look at the bigh golden pipes of the huge organ aloft there. *| Imagination is awed by the thought of the music, sleeping in its bulk, like the thunder in a summer cloud,—ti!| imagination thinks again of De. Murris, and reflects how his thought is but of the bellows—how aarsing in the Cathedral, as in the organ, depends on the raising of The bee windows, too, which seem, every time the sun comes lights them, to be taking perpetual daguerreotypes of the figures of saints and angels somewhere in the air! The spectator muses on them, and again—for the doom is on him—has to think of Murviy. What is that reverend man, but the image of a real priest —the odd motionless copy of something that was once real, and alive ? There he stands in ecclesiastic garb—between the congregation, and heaven’s light. Such strange, interesting stories might be written by the novelist in pursuing our idea, Stroiling along by the tonths of gentlemen who left slices of their land to found schools—schools that might remain living atonements for some too hot deed of the fiery-hearted gentlemen—he | would dwell on the fate these schools have met. He would remember how the benefit of them has all gone one way—and that way the wrong one; how, when atree of knowledge has been planted in a district by a pious hand, the fruit has gone to the fat neighbour who kept it, and only bits of bark and withered leaves to the poor for whom it was intended. Imagination would see the figures of the people interested, and would be able to single out two, perhaps ; watch the course of the poor boy who, with a right that he knew not of toa share of the dead gentleman’s legacy, struggled through a life that education might have made a great one; and watch the rotund and prope trustee, with a comfortable conscience baptised in Port, the founder of a race of pluralists and sineeurists, Members of Parliament, and preservers of game! Our novelist would see strange contrasts indeed; strange developments from simple beginnings. Might he not trace the dust of the dead founder, till he found it stopping a little hole in a corrupt institution to shut out the light ? Might he not make a little parable to show how the legacies of old founders go? A certain De Lancey pe Cueva planted a bean-stalk, directing certain pious men to employ a sum of money in keeping it up, to supply beans to the my Two hundred years pass. Beans are grown infinitely cheaper, but the money has increased so as to admit of the trustees serving out beans of gold. Notwithstanding this they keep the money, and give the poor the original old bean, now procurable at sixpence a peck. When the novelist strolled out from the Cathedral, a glance at the exterior would tell him what sort of opposition the reformer has to anticipate. Glancing along the edges of the roof, he sees dog-faces and fiend-faces gibbering at him—gibbering hideously there from morning to night at all comers. There they grin to protect the building (so the | speculative eye fancies) for ever. Happily contrived, too, are they— | for when the cleansing rain falls, they quietly disgorge it, and send it |pouring out on the earth. Meanwhile, the daws chatter aloft; the | starlings build in the eaves ; everything tells of Conservatism, and looks as if it was to last for ever. ‘There is plenty of room, truly, for gather- | ing mosses inside and around the venerable pile ! | The sentimentalist could not fail, doubtless, to note how Time | manages to make everything more or less holy. A coin of Trsertus | has its value, just as well as a coin of the best king that ever lived. | Think you the Geographical Society would not unroll the mummy of a | beggar with all the delight in the word? You abuse Pontius Pilate, | but if Mz. BaRwuM was to bring him alive to London, do you suppose | that ail Pimlico wouldn’t have him “in the evening? ” Thus it is (might our imaginary author reflect) that the antiquity of Dx. Murrtn’s office saves him from being properly over-hauled Like a lean old goose, his safety from being roasted is in his “ venerable” character. And what is there that won’t get “venerable” with due luck? Do you know the natural history of a Fairy Ring? That magic circle, that charmed enclosure sacred to the supernat is— (WooLLasTon bas proved it)—is—that holy ring, we say—is formed by the growth of mushrooms and toadstools in the grass! Election Returns. We do not wish to be severe upon any one who has met with a mis- fortune; but the best thing Lonp Dexsy can do with these “ Returns” is to put them in his pips and smoke them. over which you stro!) so carelessly ; how calmly—how like the Doctor, | and comfortably kept in their position by being firm!'y stuck to the .

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 65

SOME REALLY ODIOUS COMPARISONS. HUMAN KITTENS AND BLIND PUPPIES. , r Awone the female fashions for the present season, the Assize reports ‘oe ae pe ag indicate infanticide as very prevalent. One Lovisa Watsorn, indioted comparisons are odious, but at Dorchester Assizes for the murder of her little boy, was acquitted why they ete these etiens | evidencs so conclusive—if true—of her guilt, and after a summing than Superlatives, or half so | ¥?,% decidedly against her, that the jury must either have thought the es i itives. we have | Witnesses perjurers, and the judge a blockhead, or have looked upon sever had oo definite idea. | the child as a flea or a rat—or preferred breaking their solemn oaths to ae hese we oo at ae concurrence towards the dislocation of a woman’s neck. “We may inn to tonne It did do what we like now!” was the jovial exclamation of several young onl a ée asa few others out of Court, on hearing of this satisfactory verdict. Soon, y me ago, while walking near | D etshire and elsewhere, we shall have maternal affection dis- the Miewe Ginna end te playing itself at the druggists’ counter, by requests for strychnine haling an odour for which we 4 Prussic acid, “ just to poison the babies.’ could find no comparison half To prevent this consummation, it will be of no use for Punch to write horrible enough,—it did, we leading articles. Common jurymen take in beer only, and not Punch ; way, ener te Gt. tal we cald besides, the'very strongest Punch never would get into their heads. to ourselves in the words of |, .* 18 greatly to be feared—for the sake of Ma. Catcrarr and his the “nonsense poet ”— “Atsuchamomentietusask” | you not better cut it down? Now that the Black Drop is found to why comparisons in general are arma the juryman’s moral sense, is it not time to leave off that unanimously voted odious? | Physic We iauadinhdp began to rm Caesar aut nullus,” translated “neck or nothing,” is your turn over in our mind, and present criminal law maxim in regard to child-murder, and impunity rummage in the untidy draw- | results. Now, sure transportation is clearly preferable to fortuitous ers of our memory, or turn | anging and probable escape : and one casual gaol-bird in the hand ot out the higgledy-piggledy cup- | the law’s finisher, is not worth two certain convicts, out of the bush. boards of the past, where old| It is useless to try and build buttresses to the scaffuld, and to hold recollections are put away to 2 by the rope any longer: you had better tura Jack Keto himself be sorted at some time or|0f. We shall still have plenty of popular entertainments when you other—which never comes—| have abolished the spectacle of executions, with the yelling crowds, and we managed to muster a| busy pickpockets, brutal jests, jangling kneli, solemn parson, pompous few “comparisons,” which sherilfs, revolting hangman, ghastly culprit, groterque nightcap, white are eertainly enough to bring odium upon the whole of their order. handkerchief, plunge, —— death-struggles, last dying speech and They are deficient in aptitude or truth, and we have only to cite three | Confession, an all the fun of Hang Fair. or four to show that if comparisons are generally odious, there are | : some of them that deserve to be so, on account of their endeavouring | =i to obtain credit under false pretences. As merry as a grig isa comparison with which every one is familiar,

LAY OF THE RABBLE,

but we will venture to lay fifty pounds—of atmospheric air—to a p!un, | Ain — Lilla's a Lady." that in the first place nobody ever saw a grig, and that if such an | Tar church rates and poor rates and road rates pay we unusual interview has ever taken piace as the meeting of one of our) And house tax, and horse tax, and dog tax, all three, _ readers and a grig, the former perceived in the latter no signs whatever Bat because we've no vote ’tis cramm’d down our throat, of merriment. A grig is defined by Jounsow as—first, “a Bavarian | That we are, we are, we are the Rabble. duck,” and then “a small ee),”—an option which displays a good deal | w drink the best |i d eat the b , of the old showman spirit of “ whichever you please, my little dear, you | K © may sab a ! eaged y - eat t “1 - grub, ys your money and you takes your choice,” on the part of the great | i ey pen | cad an oar eer. and live at a club, exicographer. The merriment of a Bavarian duck is a question we | ndepen Wh may be, but because we v by fetes cannot, “in the absence of the party,” be expected to go into; but, as y, we are, we are, we are the le. to the other representative of the grig—the little eel—we defy the On juries we’re summon’d to serve and to work, keenest observer to extract from its contortions, which seem dictated And are swingingly fined if the duty we shirk, by an instinctive desire to wriggle out of the way of getting skinned, We may seal a man’s doom, yet to vote not presume ! the least spark of merriment. For we are, we are, we are the Kabble. As regular as clock-work is another absurdity, as may be ascertained Physici thous! by inquiring at almost any of the public clocks; for even the Horse rs peyote riven or Lag bs nine Guards, which has enjoyed some reputation, has been once or twice With » eee a ae thy poe: = we 8 conn in a state which proves that Nullum horologium omnibus horis | Gb! Gps G0 en, We Age we Rabble, As sure as a gun is another of those comparisons that cannot hold If we want county votes we must certainly not good in a country like ours, where, in the first place, our old milita-y Be such fools as to think about love in a cot, muskets are sure of nothing but of missing their aim; to say nothing P our lot may be bliss, yet the franchise we miss, of the frightful uncertainty of so many of our sportsmen’s guns, which | As we are, we are, we are the Kabble. are often as dangerous in the hand of a friend, as in that of an =: ; : enemy. Whatever his income, his house, or his coat, As clear as the sun at noon-day may be all very well for a few weeks Give each honest man, of fair learning, a vote ; in June, but such a comparison is by no means adapted even then for Then we little shall care, although you declare everyday use; and the little truth it contains savours much less of the That we are, we are, we are the Rabble. rule than of the exception. - ; As drunk as a lord is another comparison against which we are happy to be able to protest, for we think that sobriety and decency have found Gas from the Green-Grocer's. their way upwards even to the once dissolute portion of the aristocrac friends—that the only way out of this difficulty is the repeal of the | gallows. When this tree virtually affords a shelter to criminals, had | Y;| : p . . the other version of the comparison, as drunk as a pig, may be allowed | S Recent Money article in the Times makes mention of a new | to without objection. undertaking for the promotion of the happiness of private families, e could pa multiplying instances by the yard, or even by the by supplying them with cheap, brilliant, and portable gas, rejoicing in mile, by the day, week, month, or year; but we think we have cited |e name the Vegetable Gas-light Com quite sufficient to show why it is that comparisons have come into dis-| this society are so noticed by the Times, as to make them a repute, and have been pronounced generally odious. | deserving of some consideration ; and we, always overjoyed to hail the <= = jmew Gas-light Company—though Vegetable—shall prove to be no WE DON’T BELIEVE A WORD OF IT. | Plant. THERE is a youth at the diggings so tarnation fast that he lights his| Dertormaste Acctpewt.—A canon in a cathedral town lately burst, cizar always with a flash of lightning. | in consequence of being loaded with a bishop’s charge.

VOL, XXIII. H

pany. The pretensions of | | increase of enlightenment, shall bs transported beyond measure if this

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THE MUDLARK OF PHILANTHROPY. pADING philant , like a certain other kind of monster, is addicted to the making of the food it lives upon. There is a certain—or rather, un- certain — Ma. CHaRies Cocunane, who, in| 1847, might have added | the misrepresentation of Westminster to his other misrepresentations, if we had not prevented him. He has since been seeking | “ popularity” through | the cheaper medium of | a soup-kitchen supported | by charitable contribu. | ” tions, and a staff of street orderlies, en din some very dirty work, which is too often the fate of those who are engaged in the service of a pseudo-philan- thropist. ‘hese “ order- lies” have been employed in the ignoble occupation of picking up every im- purity they could find in the streets; but, when a chance presented itself of assisting pauperism to rise to a state of dignified industry in another country, Mr. Cocurnane began to feel that in the absence of misery and destitution, his occupation as a puffing philanthropist would be gone. To give to the poor the means of putting bread into their own mouths, would be figuratively to empty Mr. Cocurane’s mouth of all those frothy clap-traps upon which he has lived for the last three or four years, as a professor of the art of philanthropy, which may be ranked in these days a3 one of the humane sciences. A proposition having been made to give to some paupers the benefit of a boon, for which thousands of respectable working men are willing to pay—the boon of emigration—has thrown Mr. Cocnrane into a state of rabid alarm and excitement, lest the material of misery upon which he has carried on his trade of philan- thropy at home, should be converted into comfort in the colonies. A philanthropist who would keep up a supply of wretchedness and poverty as food for his philanthropy, is like a parson who would encourage wickedness in order that he might have something to preach about. Mr. Cocurane may as well shut up shop as a trading philanthropist forthwith, now that he has shown that he cares less for the sufferings of those who labour under the disease of poverty, than for his own notoriety as a quack in finding nostrums for it. We are happy to find that the ratepayers of St. Martin’s have decided against Mn, Cocurane’s theory that wretchedness ought not to be converted into prosperity, lest the philanthropist should be left without a theme for his own self-glorification. Alter the display he recently made of his qualifications for taking part in a public discussion, —when he ——— the chairman as “old fellow,” and met the refusal to put a libellous resolution with an exclamation of “ Won’t you, by Jove, but we’ll make you though,”—the electors of Westminster will be doubly grateful to us for having saved them from the disgrace of sending such a person to Parliament.

a f -*tey.

Scotch Mineralogy. Tue Glasgow Mail says, that some workmen employed in making excavations in front of the Infirmary of that city, found, among other curiosities, “a stone strongly impregnated with sulphur, of a similar description to that which was recently mistaken in Fifeshire for the genuine gold ore.” Vulgar English prejudice would scarcely have supposed that Scotchmen could have anything else for gold— certainly not anything of the nature of sulphur. It must now, how- ever, it that the tish appetite for the “yellow dross” has been over-estimated, and that the sons of Caledonia have been a great deal too “ much condemned to have an itching palm.” THOUGHT ON TIPTREE HALL, PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

Mr. Mecut will eclipse his own magic strop if he shall succeed in sharpening rusty agricultural blades. THE DERBY VOTER’S SOLILOQUY. (Spoken in a darkened doorway, with his face to the wall.) Is this a sovereign which I feel behind me, Slipp’d gently into my hand? Come, let me sack thee : Art thou not, precious metal, sensible To vision as to touch? or art thou but A sovereign of the mind, a false sensation, Proceeding from the beer-oppressed brain ? I feel thee yet, a coin as palpable As this I now produce. : Thou hint’st to me the side whereon I’m going; And such a candidate I am to choose. My conscience is the weakest of my senses, Which should rule all the rest. I feel thee still— A blade that has no gudgeon in his blood, I ne’er was sold before. Pooh! no such thing: It is the freeman's privilege which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now throughout all the land Protection ’s dead; and wicked bribes abuse The voter’s trust: now Corrock celebrates Corruption’s offerings ; and cunning Epwanps, Subduing easy principle with pelf, Prowls on the watch, and thus with hidden face The stumpy lavishes wide towards his design, Mute as a post. Ye men of sense and worth, Mark not m4 course, which way I vote, for fear we - show ee Ley - tamper’d with ; the present honour from my name, ‘That now rests with it. Whiles I yet shall live, Votes I for treats and feeds and gold will give. I go and plump anon: the chink invites me. Hear it not, Beresrorp! for ’tis a knell That summons thee to follow Jacos Bet!

THE LAW MILITANT. Tue “Church Militant” has long been a familiar term; but there seems to us to be a very considerable analogy between the practice of the camps and the practice of the courts—a striking resemblance between an ordinary field of action, and the field of an action at law. Most of the military expressions in use at the present day are applicable to lawyers’ as well as soldiers’ practice ; and, indeed, before going into legal action, it is custom to inquire whether the party to be attacked is “worth powder and shot.” The drilling of a corps of lawyers for sharp practice might be carried on very nearly in the words of the drill sergeant, the only alteration that would be necessary being shown by the following examples :—

For Draw Swords Read Draw Bills. 2 Fix Bayonets 9 Fix Clients. ” Recover Arms Recover Costs. 2 Present Arms ” Present Writs. There are several directions which are equally icable to either service, and we need only mention “Charge “Fall Out,” familiar instances: for “charging” is the lawyer’s delight, while “falling out” is the client’s privilege. There is, however, one exception—perhaps the one necessary to prove the rule—as to the analogy between legal and military practice, for though it is common in the latter to hear the word given to “stand at ease,” we know that with asses engaged in law the operation of standing at ease is quite impossible.

THE CHURCH AND THE CONSERVATIVES. At the Beresrorp Braintree dinner, held at the White Hart, the Rev. Mr. Macenpte said, responding to a toast— “ There was a charm which he could not describe, and a warm feeling which came over | Conservative them when the affairs of this country were administered by a purely Government.” Could not describe? This was at the White Hart. Now, we under- stand that the Rev. Gentleman’s clerk, supping the same night at the Black Pig, cou/d describe what his master could not. The clerk said— “ T tell you what it is—it's just this. When the Tories is in, the loaves is bigger, and the fishes is sweeter. Rolls is peck loaves, and sprats is whales.” We put it to the Rev. Gentleman,—is not this his meaning, more happily as more guilelessly expressed ? The Grand Possibility. We hope we now see the possibility, which Mr. Disrazxt alluded » - looming in the Suen, es Pee, off ont a << arliament. A recently publis report, pro; a Par Select Committee by Mr. Hume, abundantly shows that it is perfectly possible to effect an equitable adjustment of the Income-Tax.

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| i ' | | ; PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. | possible danger to HINTS TO YOUNG YACHTSMEN. Rememeer, my dear young friend, that there was an epic written oy, Se second master | (whem, in our way, we por are “Bung,”) of the Vui- ture. Only two li of this composition re- main in my memory— for, indeed, we could Z| never stand anything : like a length quo- per tation from it, an Aa poor Cunson was yh ‘cobbed” with asword- | of AY wh scabbard before he got into the second book. | They described the meeting of two vessels | at sea, and ran thus :—| s AW SAAN ea \\ (i “From Buenos Ayres to Liverpool were we ; From Liverpool to Buenes Ayres waa she.” Ab, how much of! what seems fine in reduces itself, when experienced, to some- . my 7 common as this ! es, my young “@ friend, on life's ocean we are some of us going to Buenos Ayres while the others to Live wards and forwards on petty objects of trade. this moral reflection, dear and don’t expect too much your brilliant life in the At all events, avail of my experience, and spare yourself future disappointment. perience —to use a nautical metaphor, which I cant help ing a rather felicitous one—is like a dog-vane: a thing that shows ‘us how the wind is very well, and is made from the feathers plucked from gulls. It is natural, to be sure, that you should be a little exultant, at first. There you are, pacing the deck of the Bubile—and handsomely got up she is—spars as trim as fishing rods, delicate painting, the tiller (like | the naval affairs of the country) with an ornamental wooden head to it ! | You, yourself, are an ornament to the Budbdle as you pace backwards | | and forwards in a straw hat (don’t have “ Bubble” on the ribbon | apprehended) and your telescope carried with | peculiar knowingness. By the way, I don’t know any test of the finished | yachtsman better than the way in which he carries his “Dollond.” Be not betrayed, on the strength of all this, into too hasty a reliance on your | acquirements. I went up in Mr, Greewn’s balloon, it would be very | absurd in me to dictate to that “ veteran” as to throwing the ballast | out, and the like: remember that you are still in the same innocence | about seamanship. There can be no harm, for the present, in getting | though) with a ry to “ windward,” (where, however, there is no | a very big chart and pricking it all about with a pair of compasses. You | | will be in the way of learning something. | caution you against jesti | scientific instrument, an pretend to navi | | the won’t prog your fingers above once or twice at first, and meanwhile you “ Gunrer’s scale” (need I on “Gunter’s carte,” &c ?) is a most useful ought to be carefully studied by all who tion. Then, a harmless fund of entertainment presents itself in the signal department. The Argonauts use, I think, Buoce’s system; I know that many a fine intellect has employed itself in perfecting signal communication. ) Indeed I was once si midshipman myself, in the Sea Cook, 16, but, from hopeless perplexity of intellect when the flags went up, was justly described by Cartarn Guwwe as “ unfit for the important post.” At all events, you can give yourself no end of amusement—and, shall I say, a little im ?—by working your signal flags. Thus: “ For- ward there!” you cry; “send Hue aft!!!” For the Buddle, we will suppose, is lying a couple of cable’s lengths from the Parvenu—young PLenson’s cutter; and you are going to communicate with P. (who is sprawling on a Persian rug aft, with a pipe in his mouth, and watching claret cooling in flannel bags over a green tub.) So Hus comes you commence 2 Pizzsoy, whom you could inform of all your wishes in three minutes per dingy :— “3.24 2—* Look out!’ B. 4, 2. X.—* Salad!’ ” and Przssow, the wag! hoists in reply a strange combination, which» after much puzzling, is discovered to be “ Watxen!” running aft, and touches his hat, of cou: se—(confess, my dear boy, that you feel a thrill of command then)—and, forthwith, | Meanwhile, the people on shore are thrown into great excitement by this ey: edna and conclude that they bear some important reference to the sailing of the America, or the witch-like movements of the Poppet. Of course, you are profound already on the rea/ causes of the of the America? Sometimes it is her “rig,” and then it is her “tb ” sud then she is only a “New York pilot-boat,” and again, she is “ only fit for a stiff breeze.” But qouyeeny apem that if seme one thing—nobod agrees what in partic ——Were 80) ow other than it is—Ais t would beat her? Don’t you think the Bubble would? To me, the way in which you fellows talk about the America is like the way one sometimes hears ladies talk about a pretty girl. To be sure, her mouth is niece enough, or is attractive about her eyes, to be sure, but— Meanwhile, like her sea prototype, the mystic p Ona is goimg ahead of the whole of them ! I know you to be naturally a natured fellow, so it is perhaps hardly fair to warn you how to act in the matter of electing new fellows into the Imperial Argonauts, It is not necessary, | believe, to bex you not to say—s ng about the club-rooms, or carelessly lounging at the baleony—“ hang it, you know, what does 4e want to be in for?” It is all very well for Firz-Ovrat to be going about shrugging his s oe coring Se Gere a one it used to be, when we know that he offered his interest to get in a pork-butcher on condition of the poor fellow’s buying the Diddler, at goodness knows how much over the value! Oh, that Diddler ; how the deuce does she swim with all those bills on board? Leave this kind of thing, I say, to Prez O. and to those extraordinary “swells” who haunt rt Diam and torment honest fellows who “ pay their way”—“ swells” who out, “Ah, Foupessr!” when vou tas iieninee to “ What Fornessys are you of ?”—or who, if your name to be Russe.t, ask you if life ue TEE. ts ceptivedeon ae “WE FORBID THE BANNS!” ours Napvotzow asks, “Who forbids the bann: pl a» meng upon marrying, making his bride empress ; bone of his bone, and le of his purple, “Who forbids them sal “TI forbid ’em,” growls the Russian bear. “I forbid ’em—I—I” — screams the double - headed Austrian Eagle. “T, too! I, too! "—eries the Eagle of Prussia—“I1 forbid "em.”’ That is, Lovis NaroLzow may take a wife who shall be MADAME Napotzon, even Parncess Na- POL*ton—but not empress. And why? Oh, the Bear and the Fagles have parcl:ment warranty. When Narotxeon abdicated at Fontainbleau, he surrendered for himself and all of his blood in direct stream or collateral runnings, all right and title to the imperial throne of France. This is a hard historical fact. So much, too, did Narotzon tue Great venerate the act of abdica- tion, that, for what is known to the contrary, he may have headed one of his drums on his return from Elba, with Au deed. It is, however, certain that he whistled at his promise; the said whistling being echoed by a few hundred thousands of bullets,— whistling not at times to be laughed at. However the quarrel may turn out, we are at least glad that there is a petticoat in it. For it seems that the Prestpent would be per- mitted—France vehemently insisting—to grow into an Emperor, but then he must be Emrzronr Sorvs. the gardens of the Tuileries with never an Eve ; for the stony-hearted Three Powers, like lodging-house landladies nice in furniture, “ object to children And so it is the old story over and over again. To make the hubbub comp! univ: , there must be—bless her!—a woman. NapoLzon Emperor makes Canotiye Empress, and millions of swords flash from their scabbards. Now isn’t it hard that Narotvon’s ing-cake must be flavoured with gunpowder, stuffed with balls, and in a mortar ? Ww “ A Deluge of Nonsense.” Lorp Marpstowe’s prophecy about the Deluge is so perfectly in the | style and spirit of an woman, that he should, out of compliment to those he imitates, alter his name to “ Lonp O.p-Matn-stows.” | rg aye copy of the | a A crowned and anointed Apa in |

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. a. We ‘ul Ate A, yall) G7) 3 AY, GG ; A Al Wy /; Y UW Lh e/, _ = e — SCENE.—ROOM IN COUNTRY-HOUSE.—BREAKFAST-TIME. Master Tom, “On, Rosert! ” Robert, “Yes, Sin!” Master Tom. “Ou, I say, Ropert! Tae Lapies WANT ME TO TAKE "EM OUT FISHING TO-DAY, sO JUST TELL Youre Evans | SHALL WANT HIM TO GO WITH ME TO GET some Wasp Gruss; ayD—Look rere! Tet, THR GARDENER HE MUST GET ME some Lance LOBWORMS DIRECTLY, AND A FEW SMALL FaoGs, aS PERHAPS We SHALL Try FoR A Jack. Anp—H1! Rosent, TELL UIM TO SEND ’EM IN HERB, THaT | MAY SEB WHETHER THEY RE THE RIGHT sont! (General exclamation of “‘ Nasty Monkey!” from the Ladies, Old Gentleman, being rather deaf, wishes Masten Tom’s remarks repeated, | | } ! } | ‘ : , mm W SITCOM reduce to some measure of shape also. It will bea strange sight to | A BAD LOOK-OUT FOR BUTCHERS. — - civic magistrate ee his —- jell —— his THe Manchester Guardian revorts a Grand Vegetarian Banquet, | ##w0ch: and, at the termination of the repast, over which FaTHER | which took place last week at Salford Town-hall. The bill of fare Martuew, of course, will preside along with PyTHaconas, to witness was the following :—- | the circulation of the loving tea-cup. “ Savoury dishes :—omelette pies, savoury fritters, mushroom pies, rice fritters =— SS Sweets :—tous-leemols, farina, semoliaa, sago (all in shapes), cheesecakes. Fruit :— grapes. strawberries, pines, appler, cherries, preserved fruit. The beverages were DERBY ELECTION DITTY. vea, coffee, milk, iced water, &c.” . . > Airn—“ Sing a Son ix “9 In hot weather, when the human mind naturally inclines to salad, - some ae and its instincts are herbivorous, such a carfe as the above is certainly Srxe a song of Bribery, a pocket full of gold rather inviting. But what should we have to say to it five months For a brace of sovereigns a voter bere is sold: hence? Would rice fritters, and even mushroom-pies, stand com- | When the House is opened, the Inquiry will begin, And won’t there be a fuss about this Dexsr-diilying! parison, at Christmas, with roast beef and turkey—nay, with mince pie and plum-pudding, whereof suet and other fat are ingredients? | The candidates were canvassing, with speeches sweet as honey : However this may be, vegetarianism is evidently progressing. It is The Agent “ in an upper room” was counting out his money ; remarkable that the scene of this banquet was a Town-hall; ani the Upon the scent the Peeler went Jiaguned in kin plain clothes— Manchester Guardian tiso informs us that the company included Ma. | And what will be the end of it the Cariton only knows ! AvpermMan Harvey. An alderman at a vegetarian feast !—what are | . ji — to? m4 jr - os - of pe — fw —~ ond ae pmeepmetee mea ays the Lorp Mayor o' ndon himself, on the ninth of November, P . P | may hold a similar festival? And then the newspapers wil! tell us the Maidstone's Demi-X. next day of three or four hundred tureens of green pea soup, instead| Aw injurious report having got abroad that the singularly mild and of as many of turtle, forming the principal item of the bill of fare-- | harmless beverage offered to the Public by Marpstone as Bitter Beer, truly the green pea, in one respect, will be equal to the turtle in contains strychnine, some samples of it have been submitted to a dis- expense, as it will be out of season. Farina, semolina, and sago, which, | tinguished chemist, who has Neen unable to detect in them, by the so to speak, are made pane of now, will then actually take the place of | most minute analysis, the least trace of that deleterious alkaloid. | venison, partridge, and pheasant. If, too, the farina, semolina, and so Indeed, the quantity of ordinary bitter contained im this Beer is estimated forth, are all in shapes, they will probably correspond a little with the by him to be considerably less than what enters into the composition members of the Corporation, whom a lighter sort of diet will perhaps | of the weakest Swipes. e

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‘ Ti A Mii i — . S ———$.— asa —_ ed Sd | - rc Mi ’ RY , Lp \ \ Vk UY, if \N —- \\\ inn 109 ) PS LITA ied THE RECENT ABSURD CASE OF PLEDGING. Dizzy. “It’s tae Porrrarr or an Eminent Prorectionist I’ve optainep to ILLusTRATE MY Great Nationa Work.” * Pawnbroker. “ Au, 1 pane say! Bur I covtpn’? LEND ANYTHING Upon It! I? tsn’t THe Sort or Taine raat’s WANTED Now-a-pDays.” Sees _ sa Ave6ust 7, 1852. 3

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 71 A LEOPARD’S SKIN. ERnars there never was a more startling ee of what it is to live, not merely by the sweat of! one’s brow, but by the perspiration of one’s whole body, than is shown by the individual who stands at the door of Cummine’s Exhibition in| a complete suit of leopard skins. bes The Exhibition is intended to ° illustrate the triumph of human courage over brute force; but the man in the leopard skins should be endowed with a heart of stone and nerves of bon to resist the furnace heat to which he is daily | subjected. If the thermometer is| 80 in the sun, we should like = know what it is in the aS this poor creature’s paletot? We} expect to see him drop down some | day a mass of human tallow, with | the flame of life dimly flickeri in | his eye by way of socket. The unhappy victim creeps occasionally on to an adjacent railing of iron, as if he would fain place hi on a sort of save-all, but we fear the thread of his life is reduced which he is thrown by the furs that envelop him We often feel that 2 be an act of mercy to place him under j he might object to the proceeding in the appreciate it upon cooler reflection. person being ready to jump out of his skin with j in eed that hat the happiest event of this individual’s - out of his leopard skins. We trust we have said poor fellow’s feelings, but having daily opportunities bee b by no means thin-skinned, we have not scrupled subject of a few remarks, which we hope will be for AN ASS IN THE DOUBLE-FACED MINISTRY. | A GENTLEMAN, connected with a very reputable card-cheating case that has lately edified the sporting-houses and betting-oflices of the ——. was taken up, several coins with two heads were f These coins had evidently been used for gambling 1 deceitful pur Phen This is, of course, very dreadful, but we know a ee SS th ape been playing their game upon the same gam have been sending their money far and wide ee of it has been stamped with two heads. These two heads were Free Trade and Protection. If a county cried Free Trade, u aaah tiotiinsnk hb euneietnennedeearell | the face of Free uppermost. If, on the contrary, the county cried Protection, nothing was easier than to turn the coin the opposite way, and to let that side be up ost which the electors were anxious to see the winning side. In this way the ministerial coin did double duty, and won twice where, otherwise, it could not have won more once. The Ministry came down, it is said, with thousands in this game, not only at Derby, but at several laying other places. In most instances the trick was successful, but in a few it was exposed, and the parties practising it were hooted with contempt out of the town. t, remains, however, to be proved whether they will + & much eventually by the fraud. for when Parliament meets, and the Ministry has to face it, it will be quite a ter tr Sy whether, with their two faces even, it will be able to stand after throw. The country’s eyes are opened, now, to the imposition, and we are afraid the first throw will | be for the hat in tossing is called “Sudden Death.” We | should have s Nismo? Cu we thought it quite unnecessary, that the name of this two h , is, as the reader knows well enough without our ~~~ him—* Tue Deny Mryisrry.” Its game is completely up. The Vote Market. Autnovues the influence of the Crown may not have been, to any very great extent, unduly exerted at the late election, there is too much reason for fearing that some ministerial candidates have awfully abused the power of the Sovereign. Morro ror a Postace Stamp.— A penny for your thoughts.” HOMAGE TO PANIZZI. It is impossible to speak in terms of too strong eulogy of the activity and zeal which have been lately displayed in the execution of his other, by SIGNOR PANIZZI, LIBRARIAN OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM, Pibed. t the papers have teemed with unreasonable complaints —_ incomplete state of the catalogue of that national wtih the arrangement of which was the oe of the Signor. He, athe was labouring with preternatural diligence at a task com- parable cal to that of the Dawarpzs, or to the Mob assigned b —~ celebrated Micuasx Scort to the importunate demon on the sea-sho' We are happy to announce that he has now completed his val, having thus entirely snuffed out the of Jonnson’s Dictio than to go on ccnutinually ng his ro L ghar ss and nearer to perfection, assiduous! ee ao summoning \hafoes the sugiiliains on delinquent 0 have |omitted by some oven te to ommell to the ong ae as “ * law | required, a copy of a twopenny-halfpenny pamphlet. ir now, having nothing else or better to VANITY V2ZRSUS EMIGRATION. Sone ror a Cockroach. Come, all of you whom Buresrorp perhaps would ot the rabble, I want you a create — row, to —_s and | Run at heels, ye = ary One Follow me to the pestey aby h ne there is a scheme = to ne & penny rate, a 0 help you to transport yourselves—they say, to emigra’ To po courts, culiieen alee you love to be, | And go to far Australia from your parish—and from me. They ’d have you leave the soup-kitchen where gratis you are fed, To work in other lands for mutton and for bread They want you to desert the streets which you with ease can ‘sweep, To rake in other mud for gold, or slave at tending sheep. - > fe paupers yields, Can highest ay a richest di make amends» For being torn from ch slums, cad pl and public friends ? You love your old back settlements, tho full of sinks and aaa, Far more than those new colonies, for all their golden plains Attend me to the meeting then, called, with designing views Of ousting you from British Yards, and Rows, and Rents, and Mews ; And wih it, bawl and bellow, strain your throats in making noise, And hubbub and with clamour put discussion down, my boys. Their : *s to get rid of you, as naa ert ut tat tend not consent to Because ’twould suit their pu Pky mong in distant lands, Karn a comfortable living, and Pack off the parish poor, indeed !—o taken o Sea, [can't at any price, my frend _ Your needy multit the loss of you ; An eminent philanthropist, for people to. admire. to stand on I require, If you. wenn gone, these seen, weld, be om ond of all my fame, No longer; by thevatie | make, attrac a No longer, stir I make, attract gaze surrounded Nor live, of notoriety by a blaze. Then stay at home, friends—dear objects of relief— ee aah oy we ene benefactor, ad he ae of very ~ Whilst od and clad, cov for wey, " And j for Goran wl be left to ry, Howry Mnsousngement for (Chevaliers of) Industry. Some alteration must be made in the laws which societies, The operations of the “ Australian Golding a, "tn gration Company,” exposed the other da: at the Mansion House before Siz Ropert a, strongly suggest the necessity of taking measures a providing the members of fraudulent joint-stock companies with J stocks, THE EXTREME ANIMAL. A cERTAIN gentleman is so great a stickler for the combination of spiritual with secular that he never gives instructions to his attorney without at the same time delivering him a lecture on divinity.

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ee Ewa srwreil _— <a ae

72 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

A GRAVE ACCUSATION. Most of the recent changes in the law have been such as we can approve, we cannot say as much for a new rule which will take effect on the 24th of October, by which a suit is not to cease on the death of either the defendant or the plaintiff. To continue litigation in the name of or against the _ dead, is to carry a quarrel beyond the grave; and, | surely, when a man has paid the debt of nature he may be allowed to rest in peace, even though his , other obligations may remain unsatisfied. If he | could be brought to life again by a bill of reviver | there might be some reason for the new rule, but to call upon a deceased party to “ apnear,” is a pro- ceeding worthy of an invocation of Zamren. re | is something awful in the idea of carrying on a suit | against the dead, which will include the i notices at his “ lest place of abode,” and perhaps the filing of all sorts of documents on the railings of the cemeteries, which will be hung henceforth with | writs by way of immortelles, or other funereal appen- |dages. We hope the first lawyer who undertakes to | carry ona suit against a dead man will be met by the defunct with “spirit,” and the entry of an “ appearance” afier a fashion that the man of law may not anticipate.

| Calling Persons by their Proper Names, Tue name of one of Lours Napozzon’s aide-de- \camps is Rocuet. If the last letter of this name were dropped, it would then be beautifully appro- oriate for the servant of such a master. This might _ easily be done, as we all know that Louts NaPoteoy,

in the choice of his associates, has never been PITY THE SORROWS OF THE POOR POLICE. * particular to a ¢.” ‘ “ Lox, Soosan! How’s a Fetter ro gat Meat such Weatner as THIS. Now, a BIT — o’ Picktep Satmcn anp Cowcumper, or a Lovsrern Satip MIGHT po.” | Buivz-sorrie’s Morro.— Blow high, blow low.”

BLENHEIM SPANIELS AND WOODSTOCK PUPPETS. Ir is a strange fact that has no less strangely escaped the vigilance _ of Don, that at certain seasons, certain folks in Oxfordshire, at other times biped, sentient men, become, for a time, spaniels and wooden puppets. They can bark, can just bow-wow yes and no; and can squeak the like syllables. How the transformation originated we cannot rightly say; but the olden time of fairy, as Mr. KeicatLey will testify, is full of such changes; witness the seals that, when they list, can take off their seal-skins and appear as young ladies. We wish, before the next edition of the Fairy Mythology, that its learned author would take a trip into Oxfordshire. For we should like to know the origin of the transformation above spoken of. In the meanwhile, we have merely to give a correct copy of the Marquis or BianyprorD’s address: an address that, we grieve to say, has been shamefully garbled. Llowever, the Red Lion of Brentford may biush, but not— no, on second thoughts we will give the Marquis’s address, and not be personal. “SpaNIELS avd Puprgets—I have delayed addressing you, because I hadn’t determined whether I should or not. However, as | have a few words to throw to the dogs—here goes. “You know that I always advocated your interests. No man has been louder in praise of the length of your ears, oh spaniels; no one | more readily allows the suppleness of your joiats, oh puppets. “The connexion has been long between us. I hardiy remember the time when you would not sit upon your hind legs at the word—when ‘oo would not respond to the wire at the pull. For you have ever m spaniels of the right Blenheim breed—puppets of the same wood that grew the baton of the first MarLBorouGu. “| have taught you to jump over a stick at the ery of ‘Church and State,’ and to howl at democracy. You have squeaked, ‘Up with the loaf, and down with the Radicals.’ “ When our Church—that is, my Church—for, as I crushingly observed to a certain person at Brentford, | have all the Church to myself—well, then, when my Church is assailed even in its weathereock, | take the attack as personal. Kick but a tombstone, and I feel it all over. “ But in these times men wear masks. Indifference to Church rates is called philosophy; and the Liberal, to show that he will tolerate all religions, would embrace the infidel who has none. “The ultra doctrines of democracy are fascinating, but dangerous. There are men who would invade the hearth of property, like blaeck-

beetles; and without paying a half-crown at the gate (five shillings, if a party of three) wander insultingly through the halls of Blenheim. “ Against these doctrines | stand, gentlemen. [ have been much abused—but I like abuse. The swallow builds her nest with mud. The true saint warms himself in the dirt that’s cast upon him. “‘Gentlemen—I mean, spaniels and puppets—my feelings may have been wounded; but what of it? Crush spices, and they smell the sweeter; my feelings have been pounded, and—but you will judge what follows. It becomes not me to make an inference. “Had I been as fortunate as my merits and my humility entitled me—(but I can wait)—at Middlesex, our connexion would have ceased. You would still have worn collars ; you would still have been pulled by wires: the only difference would have been this—the collars would have borne another name; the strings would have been twitched by other fingers. “T have the honour to be your—no, I mean you have the honour to be my—obedient spaniels and puppets, “ BLANDFORD.” This address, when read at tue Marlborough’s Head—a house ordina- rily empty enough—was met with sundry bow-wows and roo-ti-toos ; afier which the spaniels resumed their two legs; and the puppets became flesh.

THE PRESIDENT AND THE PRESS. Ir is expected that the Moni/eur will shortly contain the following :— Decrees. ‘ : Considering, 1—That all descriptions of leading articles but one, contain reflections. ' ; Considering, 2.—That those reflections may be reflections on the Government. ; The Paisce Parestpent of the French Republic Decrees :— That henceforth no leading articies shall be permitted in France but | leading strings. ; ; The Minister of the Bed Chamber and Boots is charged with the execution of this decree. Lovis NaPoLzor. Political Paradox. Iw general, it is necessary that a Peer should be of age in order to be enabled to take bis place in the Legislature, but the Ear or Dersy has a seat in the House of , although he has not yet attained his majority.

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Sera OSD TU OI SO we ort wie os

THE DEMISE OF DOE AND ROE. (Obierunt July 15, 1852). Westminster Hatz it is dark. ness * And solemn the strokes of mid- . night | ighbo rom out the nei uring Abbey tower, The echoes call, from roof and wail, And pass the record of the hour. The first has died, the last replied, That — the far roof-ribs doth And avinight hath been sig- nalled ro und ; When the Court doors wide, on the western side, Fly open all, without a sound. From each doth troop a shadowy grou Of = tat *neath a burden A beary Resin like a bier. —— ~ fl their heads they Theix = and sighs are plain to hear, , Doleful and drear about the bier, Whereon two shrouded forms appear Laid out, like corpses, side by side. No corpses, though, for lo! they rear, Two grisly heads—all hollow- eyed ! Heavy as lead, from each bier- be Is lifted up a stricken head. But, hold! a those : heads I know— ern, Law- = law-fed, but now nigh d— It i < oun Dog and Ricuarp Ror ! Well I know them ; nought I owe them; ae an ejectment (blow them), z I have cursed, and Dor have demmed ; Law that made doth now o’erthrow them, And now to die they are condemned. Now, erecter, grisly spectre, the casual ejector, up and strives to speak ; Dor, ake once stormed like a Hector, Bears to his comrade burden meek :— fictions, our afflictions Should to you be as predictions To tell your quickly coming fate ; - ~ Reforms and fresh restrictions Are gathering all about law’s gate. “ Ye are many, yet not any Brought the — such a penny As we great fictions used to do ; Never cats of famed Kilkenny Such battles fought as did’ we two. me on pou glory of our story, a res of year-books hoary, —— old biack-letter may be read ; Gallant were our fights and gory— For in the purse our victims bied. “ In the nation’s declarations We have ruled for generations— Still at our will, unjust or just, PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

We flung the proud from their high stations, We raised the lowly from their dust.

“Although we were not thing, but names, All in our left aol wi mt a — men’s praises or their blames, OTe ab lien th hroned on law. “Till the bold ways of these new days Dared question of our use to raise, pad ey eet See ted ustice must walk in a by the ghosts of Dos and Ros?

That before the shrine of law ; And, we stood nee to view, Stoutly they nothing saw. * Reckless they swore would no mors mS yh ag —_— 4 on is rivolous pretence, Into the cave of legal lore Let the coarse light of common sense. “ Our sand is ran—our reign is done, The accursed light we may not shun, . We sink cae its fatal ray ; ou, minor fictions, every one, Before it soon must melt away. “ With Doz and me‘soon men will see Poor formal colour ima plea ; cy you, ye Common also ; forms of action, soon will here Doz and | are going to go. “ Rules to Compute, you ’ll soon be mute— Special demurrers, keen "cute— Your quibbles will not save you long; i. too, Venires, branch and root, ill fall before the reckless throng. “Tn this last hour, with prophet power, I see, as one sees from a tower, Law, shorn and shaved, and short, iven from her ancient state, to lower In cheap and nasty County "Court. “Gone pleaders’ sleight, to € wrong right : Gone subtle forms to make black white, Gone ev — quiddit, quirk— All that m: ew fing = t, And all that “found eS work. “To end doth draw the rei ign of of Law— Merits shall win, despite o Whether in process or in plea— Justice comes in, rude, coarse, and raw, And so, friends, out go we!”

AN EXETER SCOLLARD. eee ee Eee ee been handed up to the judge, Mz. Banow Manrim, by the special juryman on whom it was served : “Tam to sumon an warn you to apeir at the Castle at Exon on Wednesday the 26 day of July instant omnes 8 o'clock in the morning to sarve on the spical jury st the assize on the trifle of anpine and Lavy Ro...” It is searcely credible that an example of ignorance such as the above should have been afforded by the diocese of Exeter, in which so any eet a have been founded for the instruc, | ans mgd ak te lees mrt to them » sufficiency of necessary i all views ; wherein, in short, such active gantic efforts in the eause of popular « tenment and for the diffu- sion of useful knowledge, have made under the auspices of Bisuor L A Vehicle of Progress. A Coacumaxzn is advertising as 8 opus novelty an article he pe nt Nome | B This must, indeed, be something | new, and cnr Ghee from the old original Brovcuam, which can sovaniin deal tor tener together, and certainly can never be silent and caoy at the same moment. There seems to be something more like the — article advertised under the title of a “ Brougham with pole a pair,” inasmuch as our favourite Brovenam has indeed “ pole or head enough for two any day. for a pair,”

| rf

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIV: ART. or ~ ers PA ptm li Yr “ Pirase, SiR, DID YOU WANT ANYBODY TO KEEP ORDER ON THESE Hustines ow Potture Dar?” THE PEOPLE’S CRYSTAL PALACE. Tue 5th of August, 1852, will shine a fey be. of Fae in the History of | England. For on that day the People’s F ehrwadn we away | like a silvery vapour from Hyde Park—will. fesin to take form, to | tower and expand in greater brightness and fuller beauty in Penge Park, Sydenbam. We are enabled to give a brief outline of the ceremony to be enacted on the national occasion. The Queen will not be present ; : herself the right of opening the Palace for the People on May Day, 185: Bit Nevertheless, the ceremony, though simple, will be touchingly | impressive, Sia Josern Paxton will cut the first pane of crystal. And here we are happy to record a most gracious act on the part of a sympa-| thising Government, The Koh-i-Noor will be lent for the purpose of -_ the crystal. Yes; the Koh-i-Noor will be allowed to quit its | lead— (where it has of late been confined to undergo an operation | as the benefit of its beauty,)—and reposing on a black velvet cushion | covered with a glass dome, will be brought in custody of Mx. Swirr, keeper of the Crown Jewels, mounted on an elephant magnificently caparisoned for the occasion. At two o’clock, precisely—all preparations being made—the Kob-i- | Noor will be delivered into the r t hand of Sia}Josera Paxtow, who, bare-headed, will bow to it Thrice, in acknowledgment of the | courtesy of Her *Magestv. Then, Si Joseru, tenderly, yet firmly | holding the diamond between his two fingers "and his thumb, will approach a sheet of crystal duly propped for the occasion, and along a yard rule, draw the diamond, cutting the first crystal ! As the Koh-i-Noor runs along the the glass, and the quick, musical fing | breaks from the cps Gomend, silver trum will throw a triumphant flourish to —> The people will of course shout, and —the first crystal will be cut Sra Cuaries Fox will then step forward. An anvil wreathed with flowers—(the roses of Venus Pag y~- the strength of Vuicay,)— will be placed upon the | then be given to = moniously hammer the Crys ‘This done, trombones and ophieleides will read the air; the people . § will shout as before, and the first piece of iron will be struck. penta aeme wap ton rt +7 eat framing who, for a few seconds, will cere- first piece of iron destined for the People’s Printed by William Bradbury, of No. 13, Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, and Frederick Mullett Evana, of No.7, Churen Row, Stoke Newington, peptntin tune f Londos, aod Published by tem at No. & Flee Office in Lombard Street, in the Precinet of Whitefriars, in the City of oo Han Moseeay sescrves a | | a garland of mzny-coloured flowers; illestrative ' tricks upon poor emigrants. A bammer and a piece of iron will | | AN OWER TRUE TALE. ’s a snug little tap at the Hotel, | | ksi own correspondent” i i - a matter which lately betel, sat in it drinking his beer: Meee he SG A maiden right comely to view; (Twas a Saturda night when I sat in that And she said; “ Please, Sir, Missis has sent for eget Of stout, and a family Pew.” “ What Dissenters are these!” in amescment | cried, “ Who hither have managed to creep ? | In this diocese, surely, must PHILpotts presid Since the pasture of souls from the inns is reall And the tapsters look after the sheep. “T have heard of free churches, indeed ; but this new Free and easy the whole of them hem beats.” 9 Not so fast!” cried the waiter. “ ive us our due : Our chapch, for vurbave ein tatiensia ot clon And we sell the tickets for seats.” } | “By Dissenters,” I said, as I quitted the a arrangements like ‘this had been How soon would each zealous, True Blue British face For the low, ranting, mad, Mu jan race, Its seorn and contempt have yd! | “ That ’twas sinful religion so far to profane, From the pulpit we often should hear _ be — Ai See ht ee of hem to ——, Oo were ing their doctrine, poor or nine, obtain At the bar where they purchased their | “ And the sons of the 5 7 awe gl More careful should be, I opine; Lest their union with inns rather closer should grow, And the Mitre, proved useless, except as a show, Should only be seen on a sign.” HERE | After this, a tree—the first of the thousands of trees a are to w and blossom under the crystal roof—the first tree will be planted. his will be done, and very properly, seeing what an Eden we are ey in the garden of May next, by a female hand, Sie Joseru TON will, of course, select the free; and he will then have to select as the planter of the tree, the most beautiful woman woman present; 7 we heartily wish him—among such contending beauties—well out of his Pee is no doubt, however, that in his selection of the one, The treebeing planted, Mz. Owen Jowes will hang upon its branches. of the aa hues he knows so well to select and harmonise. This must be taken as the merest outline of the approaching ce re but, as far as it goes, we believe it will be found ssidiy ait Dancing will, it is expected, be kept up until the nightingales begin ;. and talking of nightingales, there . no doubt that the voice of the Champagne will be heard in the land. National Corn Plaster. As Lorp Dersy and his colleagues ‘ess to be great corn-doctors,. they ought to know where the: shoe — and to beware of the ill effec's of unequal pressure: it is therefore to be expected that they will give us a specimen of their abilities by putting the Income Tax on an equitable footing. TRANSPORTING THOUGHT ! THERe is a set of rascals who get their living by practising swindling It is to be h that these fellows will be obli to emigrate themselves—with this difference, that their | emigration shall be involuntary. Looking to the Main Chance. Drrectty it was known that the elections were going unfavourably to Lory Dersy, the directors of the Water Companies in London waited —_ Loap MarpsTone ; handing in their ean * the Delage. should be very happy to supply his lordship with oa t Middlesex, Printers, at thetr * Strevt,im the Parish of St. Bride’s in the City of London.—Satuapar, Augu't 7th, itec.

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because he had not sent me in a of his recent Ballads; and it took op Mx. Pres, for not having left, at our office, his edition of Mi 7 Fig oy a Oe "t find him at his w, | Prisoner r

. Oh, yes! it does—it takes up the greatest part of my | he sees “looming in the future?” and whether he will bequeath it as _ time. Why! I was engaged all last week in summoning Ma. Catwacu, ‘an “ air-loom ?” |

VOL. XXIII,

I

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL 7 “beations, Whesessover is found ared herring, there is the memory of the PEEL IN THE MARKET-PLACE. | man odorous as a bank of spring violets. ate ag gy xs Firrs, . | no means the most sentimental of For his Majesty, to w his royal sense of the invention of the herring-curer, visited the | tomb of Wittiam Bewxets, and there, in state and with thanks- giving stomach, did eat a herring—yes, did consume one of the precious fish upon the grave of the first curer. It had been well for mankind had kings always banqnetted thus wisely. The broiled herring eaten on a grave, and the live _——. that, once upon a time, swam |adown each side of a Carlton- table were fish significant of very different reflections. Well, what Caartes Taz Furrn did in gratitude, let Lonp Denny and Mr. Diskag.t in some manner imitate in penitence. Let them visit Tamworth market-place on market-day at noon, and at the foot of Sr Ropert’s statue, that shall “all the while run blood” of barley- corn, let them bare-headed and upon their knees consume a humble-pie made for the occasion; the pie of tariff rumpsteak, and the crust of Free-trade flour. If the Paumeer and the Cuancettor will only promise this, Mr. Punch will, in return, promise to be upon the ground | with a new ruby-pointed to chronicle the historical event. We trust, at least, to Disraeci, as a brother author—(authors are all brothers; Canss and Awuts!)—for the courtesy of an early notice. MISS VIOLET AND HER “ OFFERS.” —~——_ CHAPTER XV. | Ove reads in the newspapers that, owing to the political intrigues of | | Parncess RouGewRinkue (who makes morning calls upon Continental | kings, with secret treaties in her golden card-case), one ty is not to | | be “ recognised,” and another is to go into a state of “fusion,” and a | third is to retract its “reclamation,” and, in fact, all sorts of wonderful | tricks are to be played upon nations with the cards that come out of | the Princess’s card-case. And one hears, with even more surprise, that | | if the wives of any of the next new Ministers should happen to be ladies | THE \of Dissenting or Geer there will be another Church | | revolution or two; Da. Warts’s hymns will drive out Brapy and | | RICHT HON™ | Tate; and when Dra. Sumwer asks after the health of Dr. WirBeR- SIR ROBERT PEEL B Be rorce, he will be ordered by the Privy Council to use bad English, and | ay | say, “ How is thee, Heway?” And yet some people assert that ladies | | have no power in public matters. As for myself, I do believe that the | more | develope my own character on paper, the less worthy I prove myself of anybody’s attention. All the i i prescribed for the |eomposition of a heroine slip away from under my pen one after another. I have just discovered that I have noambition. Had it been | otherwise, who knows but that one of these days I might have | | prevented a “fusion,” or insisted on my husband’s abolishing all the | | Bishops? For I have had an offer of a “ destiny of distinction,” or at least oe eg ep ee entitled to make such a pro | i ve the betrothed bride of the new Member of Parliament for the Muddle- ’ grub burghs. This gentleman has fully made up his mind that he is | ae one of the master-spirits of the age, and that his return for Muddle- que grub is by no means a result of an extraordinary outlay by his corfiding fe papa, but a special interference of Providence in favour of a hel \ sation. I understand that several gentlemen, holding similar views, | fie. | are anxiously waiting for the assem of the new House, all regarding | — themselves as Coming Men. But Ma. Muaxie Gunmen, [ am aun | certain, conceives that he has come much more forward than any of his — competitors. I shall watch the reports of the debates with great Tue statue of Sir Ropert Peet—the man of cheap bread ; the man| interest, and look for Ma. Guimmen’s speeches with a curiosity which whose memory is sweet and nourishing in the mouths of millions—|the wives of few Members, | am told, exhibit in regard to their | stands unwrapt in the market-place of Tamworth. At a good time husbands’ orations. ‘ was the statue stripped from its coverings; and manifested to the broad, We had a dinner party, and for some reason or other—certainly not daylight. At an excellent and most significant time—at the very time with any view to what a eet Ma. Gummer. He came — that the Minister Densy—the man of the dear loaf, could he only send | late, but apologised by saying that he been so engrossed by some Blue it up—was still folding and swathing himself in politic wrappings: an Books that he had forgotten the flight of time. I thought I saw a slight eflizy of mystery—an indefinite thing looming in the haze of the smile onthe lips of two or three shrewd old City men whom the student future session. had kept waiting, but perhaps it was only from pleasure that they would The market-place, of all places, is the site for the statue of Pext. ‘be kept no longer. At dinner, I was placed between one of these His genius, his energy, his self-sacrificing clear-sightedness, has made | gentlemen and the new Member of Parliament. He is a large, fresh- the English market-place somewhat more pleasantly familiar to the coloured person, with rather an arrogant expzession of countenance, | poor. ‘They, with more food for their money, may cast a grateful, and a voice which he obviously labours to render as soft as he can, but | thanksgiving look to the genius of the market-place—beneficent Sis which becomes harsh and unpleasant when he loses his self-possession, Ropert—as they wend homeward to store the cupboard. | or grows angry. ee : | The ceremony of inaugurating the statue off very genially; but, “ You don’t read the papers, I suppose,” he said, indulgently, in the the memory of Str Rosert Peet demands some penitential offermg at course of dinner ; “ it is not to be expected that a lady should take that the hands of the men who, abusing him to the death, now with brassy | trouble.” : . nee ey : cheek and ready tongue acknowledge the benefits of his policy. More-| “ yes, I do, very often,” I said, adding, not quite civilly, “I like over we are inclined to think so weil of their repentance that, were the | them so much when Parliament is not sitting, and they have room for manner of penance plainly indicated to them, we think they would | reviews of books, and pleasant information.” hardly hesitate to practise it. | “ Well, perhaps you are right,” said Ma. Grocer. “Indeed, I The man who first cured herrings was a benefactor to all future gene-| wish the writers would keep to books, and operas, and things they can TARA ni tae

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. understand. I assure you, as a public man, it is quite painful to see|own country happy and gee and defied or conciliated all the how ignorantly they deal with more important topics. | make a point |other kingd: of the world, should be created Duke or GuiwMer, myself of never reading a leading article.” ‘ with a pension of haifa million for h mself and his heirs for ever—if “ Better if he did, sometimes, perhaps,” muttered my other neighbour | all these things should happen, Mr. Gummer will not be surprised, | to me, “and then he would not have told you that the Emrrnon on | fer he is not of a nature to be surprised at any recognition of his own | Ausrrta was a foolish old man, completely governed by his wife.” marvellous merits. Indeed, something of this kind is the future to He had said so, certainly, but I had set it down as one of those! which he considers he has a right to look. But though he may not be mistakes which people make in conversation, and which gentlemen, who | surprised, I know who will—and that is the young lady whose papa, at make them in conversation with young ladies, often think not worth her request, declined her chance of becoming Ducuzss oy Gummer, correcting—“ dare say the girl did not notice it, or knew no better if| regulating dynasties, and compelling bishops to speak Quakerly she did.” But when [ mentioned that a friend of ours was gone to i -. tw! salmon in Norway, . ———s aan to bos the Member | “+ Uiiewe may deprive me of that gratification. sent out as an emigrant as soon as it could walk. But this last pro- MA And then it occurs to me that my sition caused rather a sensation among the ladies, and before features might have been seamed and | Gromer could defend his views, Aunt Ratcus? got us — . , 5 : “ marked wi small-pox—if I had my | neighbour growling (as he handed me a handkerchief I ; 2 not Eee caters 1 bless pped) : ‘ ; 7 : the memory of the inventor of vac- “ By George—I trust the Bottle-holder will have one chance—just one Oe ] ination, w name I shall never | | —of illuminating your friend.” Ml . Dear Juwwen! In reading | _ The great statesman had been a bottle-holder himself before he 1, ewe I saw thet joined us, and when he came up, his political ardour had been a little ay thereis a talk of erecting a monu- drowned in some wonderful Madeirn of papa’s, which “went out” in| ment to that duck of aman. If the 1816—the year, Mz. Munxie Guirmmoer insisted, of the battle of » idea is carried out, I declare I will | Waterloo. | hardly know whether anything that might have been said i’ make one pair of gloves last as long down-stairs about me had opened his light-coloured eyes to my merits, as two; and subscribe the saving or whether, as is more likely, papa had talked so cleverly that Mn. towards the statue. Gutman had been charmed with the idea of a connexion with some- | € body who could give him so many new ideas. At any rate, he was \ ee Ever devotedly, “ marked in his attentions,” as the books say, and after several calls, . ss “ Your constant reader, none of which found us at home, he sent a formal declaration of his “ Ayopiawa.” sentiments, as regarded myself. , a Now, if Ma. Guoewer should not be unseated on petition—papa says he will—and make a brilliant figure in the House of Commons. VEGETABLE GAS. If, while the eyes of the nation are watching him with eagerness, 4 , ; most important debate should come on, and while parties, balaneed toa) Sommpopy has discovered the art of extracting gas from nicety, are wild with excitement, a splendid speech from Mn. GiimMER may therefore expect to have our streets lighted with should turn the scale. If Ministers should resign, and their successors in summer, potatoes in winter, onions in autumn, and during the

Tows— Familiar Bagpipe Melody.

should instantly secure Ma. Guimmer as one of their Secretaries of i we may look for our illumination to nice spring radishes. State. If, after a brief period, during which the duties of his office , green-grocery may be turned into gas, we may look for 4 explosion some should be discharged more superbly than was conceivable, the Queen D y among our friends the Vegetarians. and the country should unite in calling upon Ma. or more pleasantly, knew until the pr t day how close is the analogy between the Marquis Ginoen, to take the whole destinies of the country into and the coal, which are usually found in the same bumble his bands, and he should kiss those of his sovereign on his becoming and which, it seems, share in common the same gas-producing Premier of England. If Lonp Gumemen, having for years made bis

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. A GINGER-BEER FROM | SSs eS THE FOUNTAIN. Aworner fountain has been - recently, a the osten- sible of sending a supply ol imaginary ginger- | beer into the eyes of the | Londoners. This new ebullition of froth isto be found imme- | diately in front of Bucki Pee, ts oat te enlled’ the pipe or two, through which the element is laid on : the surface being decorated with a dark crust, of which London smoke forms the chief ingredient. To ra 70 ie Ld A fllla, VATA de WLLT4 Ld La 7, WATT? WY, aT a fountain has been recently wits + added, which sends forth a gush of artificial ginger-beer the surprised and sprinkled | water-fowl. We are becoming curious to know why there should be such | ani connection in this | country between fountains an | ginger-beer, that no fountain | seem designed for the sole pur- | pose of supplying ginger-beer, jand mo ginger-beer is con- | sidered genuine unless it comes | from the fountain ? BACHELOR HOUSEKEEPING. Mr. Brown. “Pray, JANE, WHAT ON EARTH IS THE REASON I am KEPT WalITING FoR MY BREAKFAST Iv THIS Way? indeed, there ynch law ; and, t Jane. “ Puxase, Siz, THE Rots isn’t come, AND THERE’S NO BREAD IN THE HOUSE!” toms safety in progress when a Mr, Brown, “Now, urow my woxp! How CAN YOU ANNOY ME WITH sUCH Trirtes? wo Breap,| Lynch pin is required to secure THEN BRING ME sOME 7'o4s7.” (Exit Jane in dismay.' the Common-w Not a Pin to Choose. Tae worst sort of law is | lacie sn “Me . . of the “ million additional lamps at Vauxhall,” and the “ extra talent ” RELIGIOUS PUFFING. at a theatre which is fering to struggle on with half a company. | Errner the science of puffing has risen very high, or the ministers of | ¢ R. ne sppe be bey Mae oe ea aos 3 po religion are stooping very low, when we find people invited to places | Benevolent ” by some anonymous LP often to be are) in male of worship by such advertisements as we might expect to see employed | attire over a pot and a pipe—who is “plunged in distress,” and who in an attempt to “ pull ’em in”—as the minor theatrical phrase runs— | makes a desperate plunge, by means of a five shilling advertisement, into to the Grecian Saloon or the Victoria. ‘Ihe following advertisement | that favourite sbeupieb-the pocket of the kind-hearted portion of emanates, it is true, from a oman Catholic concern; but we are sorry | the community. ‘The announcement of a combined attraction, con- to say that this practice of religious pufling is confined to no particular | sisting of High Mass at 11, and Vespers at 6, is strongly 8 ive denomination, and pervades Exeter Hall as much as it does the humble | of the tea-dealer’s invitation to “ try our Black at 4s.,” or “ our ed meeting-house where a pious tea and muffins form the inducement held | 55.” and the notification that “the good and generous must belp him,” oe eee ee anf ak some Popular vetting piace. | reminds us of the various uses of the word “must :” among which the nearer to the Mosaic order of puffing than the following, which me off” nar Hoe want oy aan with. “ Pray - vie his pastoral appeared one day last month in the 7imes supplement : labours,’ is in the nature of a reminder similar to that of : Des t forget 0 THE CATHOLICS OF LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS —Have | the nobby shop;” and the wind-up, which sets fort places you seen the truly beautiful new church, dedicated to our “ Lady Star of the Bea.” | starting by boat, omnibus, or rail, for * the truly beautiful new church, on Croom’s Hill, opposite the west side of Greenwich Park? If you have not, you | dedicated to our Lady Star of the Sea,” savours strongly of the para- should pay it a devotional visit. Next Sunday, there will be a special source of | h in the bills of herein the accessibili of that attraction, as the Rev. H. E. MANNING, M.A., late Archdeacon of Chichester, grape in the Le « SOMCERS, wae oy ility PREACHES in the morning, on behalf of the Poor Schools. High mass at 11. «7 place of entertainment is insis on. + . Vespers at 6, The indefatigable priest having, after many years of extreme toil, | e are quite sure that all the honest friends of true religion, with- succeeded in erecting a glorious temple, is now anxi us to extend @® educational i i hich they jong ul thank arrangements for the poor children. The good and generous must and will help him. | ~ reference to ~ qaomneen ee A 4 Hi ,o - Pray cheer his pastoral labours. Address your communications to the Very Kev. | or our exposure 0 As disgust specimen religious Canon North, Croom’s Hill, Greenwich ; or, if you wish it, go by the railway from the | practice which can only bring scan upon the cause it to London Bridge Station, or by the omnibuses from Charing Cross, Elephant and Castle,| promote and give a handle to those who seek to turn serious matters and Gracechurch Street, or by the steamers from the various bridges or Blackwall Fito ridicule 6 , Pier. ——_—__— The puff interrogatory has long been a favourite with professors of the art, and “ Have you seen the new church ?” may rank, henceforth, Coming to a Bad End. | in the literature of puffery among the well-known questions, “Can you A “younc monKer,” whose name and address will be printed if he speak French ?” “What shall 1 do with my money?” and other clap-| dares to write to us again, has had the audacity to ask us whether the trap queries, with which the public eye is familiar. The “ special| Fisis, whose signature appears at the end of so many books, is the | attraction” for next Sunday may be classed with the popular fictions | worthy alderman of the City of London. , ‘can be erected which does not | enhance the ornamental cha- | racter of this opaque pool, a |

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j T1VOSVY WA “UNH, ,, * / / Wily %, ”" id } N/) ih, /V/, Y « @ TTIM I LVHL WX {ZaX TITL [T AVM AHL ALOA ATINO OL GHONIANOO GU, TA ITIL WUIHL OLE AA * oo. thi Mi jt piv A Yh jt? A ey tannin Wf YY} Yi te Ss =S a= = =~) = ee 72 © ZA, g2 3 p= a8) i yA — =~) —_— 2) 2) —_ ~~) = Ee e— ZA. — — ZA S = ru = os S = a 7 / yj / Yj Wy, fy /f ) YU Hy ff fj j —— 4 fff, 4, Mf | TW LOOM YY UY, WW dt Ay ae on oe bpp hf pf pj Hf YY fff if tr ‘a f ba 7 , Yi, ‘7 \ PLA , ; Pp ppb bh ae? ds . AUNgG WO AMUVPY UAAIN 8, LI WO Avevsr 14, 1852.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIV ARI. MONSIEUR cundaeveinnt. T the present moment he is a great writer in France: we may say he is the greatest writer. ithout some- A. li i FE i i iF Uy Hl . He knows every- Rumour, who knows no small quantity id, d -informed person by the side of Communique. Wihenation from? Persons say it is from living so 1 wails of that Elysian building, it seems, like all others, have ears ; it is — that Communiqué has got hold of two of them. Be i it , all he says is authentic. Imaginative or not, let it be as true as a gent 's word or as false as a President’s oath, directly it is printed it is received as history, and read with the same gulping faith. ot a soul dare con- tradict it. Not a pen has the temerity to raise a doubt t it. For this, reason ComMuNiQue is a very safe writer. No writer on the French Press is half so safe, excepting those who are out of the kingdom. Communiqué has never received a single warning from the Government. No journal is likely ever to be ae for inserting his contributions. His favorite organ is the Moniteur, and its lively pages have greatly benefited by his communications. His articles have a fae them, which, directly you see the c+ make you ote know at once the wag who has written them. oreo me wh a tp using. He fancies he is not —e one sees the big moustaches bristling behind the transparent mask. The too, through every e will give a iow on specimens of this celebrated author’s style :-— “ It is publicly reported that all the horses in the Paesrpewr’s stables are English horses, and not French, As this is a libel on the man who was the elect of upwards of five millions of volees, we hasten on the best authority to state that there is nothing English in the stables of the Elysde, not even a groom—no, not even a pot of blacking. The Pxesrewr knows the French nation too wali to a ing to power by any other means than French means, upon any other horses than “ Comuuniqus.” “Tt is confidently ramonred that the Paiwce Lours Naporzow has paid all his debts. The object of these rnmours is too evident ; but luckily they contradict themselves. “ Communique.” “We are authorised to state that the Parwce Pursrmewr has not proposed to Mapemorserie Cmave O.ymprque, the eldest daughter of the Manecnat Frarcont, who won his ee in the most distinguished military circle of the Empire. We have reason to know that this method of the Prince without his consent, is extremely unpleasant to him—more especially as he has no intention of ng a until such period as he has got rid of his dreadful cold. This auswer must suffice the 2,197 actresses, and vivandiéres, to whom our respected Prines has been privately married within the last fortnight. ‘ Communique.” “Once for all, the Prestpewt does not keep a Boule-dogue, nor is there one about his premises, Our noble Paestpzyt has no greater ambition than to see his throne surrounded by nothing but French dogs. “ Comuusiqus.” We hope some day to see all the contributions of Mons. Communique collected in one thick volame, with a Biography (how we should like to write it!) and an authentic Portrait. The Portrait would then reveal the mighty secret who Mons. Communiqué was. We wonder who it cam be? One thing is very certain— it cannot be Louis Napotzon ! Mane ee ee 6 ry yr what race the un is As far as we can judge by the say he is a Hot-an-hot. individual the intense heat in a full suit of leopard skins. of the poor fellow in a broiling sun, we should A VOLUNTEER FOR THE SHRIEVALTY. et Let others For I shall re In the t And with mead sred ny Leap Mavon’e Mose bright than aibendle shine. M pest wit Py — ee ill bound at a glorious rate— THE PRECIOUS MEMBER FOR MEATH. Aw Irishman signing himself Ricuarp J. Kersn, C. C., has published a political epistle, wherein he avers that “ Meath, in her priesthood, satin calm council, and selected as her representative one of the purest, best, and most gifted of this earth's children.” Who is this great, good, and holy man; this extremely talented and immaculate individual ; this ornament of his species; who is this fellow—not foul-mouthed, abusive, vituperative, slanderous, mendacious fellow—but this fellow of ALFRED THE Great and Suaxzersane, and, as Mr. Keisu must think, of St. Parrick himself? This particularly fine fellow is Ma, Faxpgaicx Lucas, editor of the Tablet Ma. Lucas, it seems, isa representative of representa- tives. The priesthood represent Meath, and Mu, Lucas represents the priestl Note this: beeause it shows that the charitable sentiments, the veracious assertions, and gentle remonstrances of the 7asle¢ may now be con- si to represent the charity, veracity, and meekness of the Meath priesthood. Amiable and excellent—nay, most excellent, ape amiable Mr. Lucas, superlative son of the earth, has returned for Meath by Meath’s priesthood, sitting in calm council—calm, doubtless, as Appison’s hero— whilst he was riding in the whirlwind and directing the storm. — Ma. Lucas, famous for gentlemanly veracity, will go to Parliament, the delegate of the Meath priesthood ; their mouth-piece, to talk pearis and — of course, like the nice child in the nursery tale, and not spiders, adders, and toads, like the other. Or, would it not be better to say, he will be sent there as their fire-engine, to play _ water on the flames of religious discord? — water really holy, pure, sanctified i ¢ of hydrogen, with 20 proportion of mad m it “ at all Marvel of purity, Lucas, the Lamang ray By ane te ons, and there, it is to be Walk himecif and. hie prinsthood into that notice, it, and attention which they deserve aan ionibaed his tone, and, after the approved fashion of — Irish Rome, oe on the floor of the Hi —— - back to Meath, and get o d ee tow, i om be expected that M L n ne time, any it may n. Lucas, dint of talking purity, goodness, and w , in the ablet style, will talk himself into the Premiership, and then, like a true Ultramontane, forming an ecclesiastical cabinet, he will of course make his priestly eulogist, Keusu, Caancetion ov THE Exquaken. | |

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82 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. THE GREAT WAITER QUESTION. We have lately touched a cord that cnne Sy Sees anes ote See an electric telegraph u in bells in all the hotels tnd coficohouses ia the kingdom, — waiters are I ; s szé ; 5 Hf 5 es i taking him out of the position of a _ mendicant —- to be “remem- bered” as an act of charity, and — him those who have a fair am recognised value placed upon their services. | Instead of leaving his casual remu- neration to the indefinite estimate of “ What you please,” we would have him receive, without favour on one |side or beggary on the other, that which he is entitled to. We want to see a proper distribution of the waiters’ charges over the public in general — fa Ft == = | upon the li ew, |. ———e lected. scantily from the mean or ; economical many. An equalisation Your Vorg 1s most Respgectrutty Soricirep ror Gorman O'SmorHEREM, THE RALE FRIEND | of the burdens on travellers is as To LIBERTY AND THE Popr. much required as an equalisation of the burdens on land, and if one isa — . = | landlord’s question so is the other. We ODE ON THE IRISH ELECTIONS. deed, we would hae thea ri id Pavpr, Pappy, wild and haggard, As potato is to pumpkin, | [OF 80 well, we sou see Diddled Pappy, how’s your Nose ? Crammed with nonsense as you are, them made the oe ~y io Spoilt, I fear, by too much “ Blackguard,” Even so, unhappy bumpkin, | their employers. Frm or Numb and Jn Lon I suppose ; You to Sampo I compare, future, and we urge oad course How ’s the Nose by vhich you're led, Under superstition’s rule, ae ——_ = any | r ‘Di ] | i + t fo ‘ . _ | ike a stupid quadruped ? | Prostrate like an abject fool. not include a fixed charge for aie Six-foot Pappy, are you bigger— | Simpleton ! to think his “ riverence ” and if all bills are rejected until such You, whom cozening friars dish— Holds the keys, as he pretends, amendment is made, we have no doubt Mentally, than poorest nigger And believe that your deliverance that the attempt to bring in such Grovelling before fetish ? On his wicked will depends ; hills will be abolished everywhere, as You, who like a senseless slave, When, with curses at your throat, it is already in all the best establish- Truckle to each priestly knave. He exclaims “ Your soul—or vote.” ments. | “THE ENGLISH DON’T KNOW HOW TO AMUSE | Then tramferred to the historical pages of the Iiasifafed News. We THEMSELVES.” | magnificent Archeréques, or the same bearded and moustachioed back- | ground, with fireworks behind to throw them forward. We confess, our Tae English know how to love, and hate, and drink, and fight; and | national amusements do not make such beautiful pictures, but we flatter they know well enough how to amass money, and make constitutions | ourselves that the letterpress, whore duty it is to explain the pictures, which are the envy and admiration of the world—but “they do not|is of a much higher order of literature. The question is, which know how to amuse themselves.” | description will read the best in a few years’ time ? So said Ma. Laine, on Thursday last, at Penge Park, and we must) For instance, look to the amusements of last Thursday at Sydenham. say we do not agree with him. | They were as simple as possible, and with nothing military about them, Why, lock how the French have been amusing themselves lately! | excepting a band or two of music. They consisted merely of fixing a Haven’t they been blessing eagles, and giving Fétes, where the walls | column in the earth, and of banging, like garlands round a May-pole, a of the ball-rooms (cannon-ball-rooms rather) were hung with the few flowery speeches round it. There was not a soldier present—there beautiful drapery of war—drapery invariably lined with the deepest | might have been a policeman, only we did not see him—and there were crimson ? | only one or two cannons, and they would have been much better out of That is the way the French amuse themselves. They collect a| the way. Everything was as quiet, as orderly, as at a christening ; | hundred thousand soldiers and as many priests as they can together, | and, in fact, it was a christening of the old Crystal Palace, which, on and the amusements consist alternately of cannonadiug and psalm- | this occasion, was re-christened “ ‘Tne PaLace or THE Porte.” We | singing. It is playing at soldiers—a very pretty, but expensive game— | live in the strongest hope that the child will be in every way an honour of which the have always to pay the expenses that princes may | to its parent. . i : pocket the glory—providing always there is any glory to pocket. The great cause of Peace had every fitting honour paid to it on | Now, the Englishman, when he does amuse himself—and it is not | Thursday last at Sydenham. In its tram followed some of the greatest | often, voor fellow, he has a chance—does not like to have the eagle for | celebrities of the day, all children of the people, who had come to assist | aplay-fellow. If he ever does look into the mouth of a cannon, it is as| at the christening of their new Palace. The Arts and of the sheep in Laxpseenr’s picture, merely out of sheepish curiosity, to | course, were there, and gave the cause their blessing, until such time see what there is inside, He cares nothing for “ Feasts of Eazles:” in | when they could give it something, if not more pure, at least more fact, he would much sooner dine at any other table than feast with such | tangible. Literature, too, was there, and promised to devote its best carnivorous companions. | pen to the service of the new principle, and Trade and Commerce had | In humiliating truth, our amusements have not the same melo-| already sent off their ships to col’ect treasures to pour into the lap of dramatic effect as those of the French. They would not, probably, look | their beautiful, but too long neglected child, as soon as its Palace was so well mpon the stage. They certainly do not come out so grandly | ina fit state to receive them. And the Poor advanced, and, opening

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M PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARITVARI. 83 dream. | credulous old fellow notching the trees to see if t their hearts, gave the cause their best wishes—and these were deposited | men know how to amuse themselves? ‘They have had hitherto so few with the coms of the realm, and are to form the foundation of the new | building, Never was Palace begun upon so strong a foundation before ! If only balf the promises are fulfilled that were made at its christen- | ing, this Palace of the People will be the grandest palace ever | constructed. And, in truth, it should beso! The people have built semen es chee: it is but proper now they built one for him every enjoyment in his new play-ground at Sydenham. It will be | And when it is built, it will be time enough to inquire if the Baglish- | the seeet becntiel plop growed ic the*werhd. : A PEEP INTO THE PEOPLE’S PALACE. Taken at its Foundation on Thursday, August 5, 1852.) 1 3. 5. SARDANAPALUS was a king, It might have been the iced champagne, Flowers, vases, intermixed, Extremely fond of pleasure : Or ty’s power i pap i a ee His was a decent thing, Or both, that, acting on his brain, So that beholders stand In style, extent, and treasure. Made him become prophetic— ee ee ravished. Dantus dwelt in marble halls, Gave him a sort of clai The buried Past—the old world too— That shone with gilding burnished, Rendered him second. It is desi to rummage, With splendid paintings on their wails, So as to see things in advance, In order thoroughly to do And : And view, with gaze deli , The sovereign People homage. BeLsHszZa® had a mansion, which A prospect wider than the daw Eeyot, ia, Rome, and Greece, as viewed with iration ; holds from parish steeple ; eke i Ages, Louis Quatonze poss a rich And by prevision thus he saw Located im a court a-piece, And sumptuous ion ; The Palace of the People. Illustrate al And Gzonez Tae Fourtn at Brighton here He saw the Crystal Palace than Besides the rarest and greens Rejoiced in his Pavilion ; . The first more lofty, bigger, That Mother Earth produces, But not a Palace e’er came near And handsomer, as i You’ve manufactures and machines The Palace of Is handsomer than nigger. For every kind of uses. 2. 4. 6, That Palace Punch, with mental eye, | As high as to its roof sublime ' Upholsteress with all their fuss, The other day inspected, Gigantic creepers tower, ith and paint, and varnish, For Punch, of course, a stander-by, | Some other creepers also climb 0 mansion ever thus Saw its first prop erected : To altitude of power. In all the world did garnish ; And music’s swell and cannon’s bang, The lofty transept doth — upon a throne, With cheers and plaudits mixing, London—grand to think on— ith power of axe and gallows, Proclaimed the act of Mu. Larne, As Lincoin’s Choice perhaps will say, Can call such furniture his own His hand that pillar fixing. The Arehfiend looks o’er Lincoln. As decks the P 8 Palace— The sky upon the work begun Whichever way the gazer turns, The Palace where Masnzsry, Smiled bright and clear and pleasant, He’s met by the stupendous : hen tired of occupation, But brighter eyes put out the sun, Enormous plantains, palms, and ferns, In fitting state, right royally, So many ladies present ; ses i y his reereation The music, sunshine, beauty, luanch,— With fountains spouting far beyond And, whilst amusement he pursues, For lunch ensued—did capture The pitch of Bew Drspagus; His mind with knowledge filling, The heart, the the mind of Punch, At either end a noble pond, Improve his taste—enlarge his views— And put him in a rapture. Well stocked with tenants scaly. all this for a shilling. opportunities of learning, that it is to ask at . It would be like blaming a man who had “4 isoned all his life, | because he couldn’t dance. But we think we have said enough to prove, that on certain grand occasions the ishman does know how to amuse himself, perhaps not so pictorially, but at all events as rationall as a Frenchman, or any other countryman. In the meantime we wi ONE WHO IS DESERVING OF A MONUMENT. HE threat of Lonp Marp- STONE, that we may hourly expect the deluge, has not shut up our old favourite Vauxhall. This act of me- teorological daring is so ex- traordinary that thousands rush to the Gardens every night to convince them- selves of the fact. When they see that the place is not only open, but looking quite smart with a new coat of paint—which coat it sadly wanted, for it has been for years dreadfully “out at elbows”—it is as much as they can do to believe their eyes, even though they have not fess than “ tep thousand additional lamps” burning before them at the time. The people walk about, staring in the greatest as- | tonishment, and jostle the | red-coated waiters and call | _, for plates of ham, to con-| ~ vince themselves it is not a) We saw one in-| We doubt if he believed it was Vauxhall until really were trees. | fireworks, when | act. We think some public monument should be erected to commemorate _ the phenomenon of Vauxhall remaining open in the teeth of such strong opposition. ‘There is no doubt that the fulfilment of Lonp | Marpstowe’s prophecy would about completely ruin the Ro Property, for there is no place of public t rain 80 , or receives so large a share of it, as who the Gardens still e | | amusement which feels Vauxhall, FPF: lessee, open in spite of teegeien kage ete ee : ,o— ey 5 deserves some public . e that 4 statue fe erected in the —_ therefore, of — po agedlmar and we suggest that the subject of it we 6 1 « WanDEAL a Dever.” fe o Tus epld-diggers at Mount Alexander Attorney. at Melbourne the ap pe eg ee we | ume, arms, & -axe, quartered aspade, as an em of their howl coun hs ool, nad colin cvenpiiiensniates dig., they | will probably that as their motto. F : q gE i TUNES POR TEETOTALLERS, | Tue programme of the /fes of the London Temperance League last week, meluded “ Brllient liormances by his Rora, Hionwess | ili the Seots Fusilier Guards’,” and other Bands, We suppose they the ears of the votaries of the | Pump with Hawpz1’s celebrated ater-Music.” .

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84 | 2 f PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL wt et ety ye ete s . a © mesis with the serv ’ MORE ate ADVERTISING do anything else, only a present would be pa ag Sites “yy , ae ay ( | A lady expecting to find a young German girl in the middle of \aew Mr. Disraeri, quit. tember is something like looking for a needle im a bottle of hay; ting the cares of office, | there is an air of wild impossibility about the whole thing that finde time hanging heavy 0" the humorous. The duties required are very consisting on his bands, we cannot nothing but to speak German with the lady when suggest to him a better im a mood for a little guttural gibberi 3 for occupation than the edit- of course an but satisfactory. As ing of a work on the Cu-| to do nothing else work will be all talk, and riosities of Advertising that there is to beno salary. She is to be “ under Literature, as a com- ™maid,” and brought out, of course, for the lady’s ion to his father’s Own language becomes a bore, and she requires ihe amous work on the ‘hing not quite so commonplace and com i Curiosities of Literature We can pardon this advertisement on the in General. jand we hope the “ lady” will havea With a friendly desire heart of September, where she expects to fiud the “small to aid him in this task, | that is to dispel her ennui by talking te her im a foreign and a patriotic wishtosee| him with leisure enough | to enter upon it, we beg to offer bim a few mate- | rials to begin with, which | we have recently col-| lected from the columns | of the Times and its Sup- S: plements. The two follow- | ; ing advertisements, ap- | pearing on the same day, | in the same paper, and | referring to the same address, savour so much of “‘ the same concern,” | ny that we cannot help at- | | tributing them to the same individual. We therefore print them together. | To GOVERNESSES.—A LADY is REQUIRED, in the midland counties, | to educate three little girls. She would be treated in every other respect as one of the family. No salary will be given. Apply by letter ouly at Mrs. W.'s, G. K YRIVATE EDUCATION.—A lady, keeping a governess and educating her litt'e girl at home, is desirous of RECEIVING TWO YOUNG LADIES, upon moderate terms, who would be treated in every other respect as her own. Apply by | letter only at Mrs. W.’s, G. K. These announcements bespeak a “dodge” of the most despicable | kind, and lead to the coneinsion that the “lady” wishes to humbug | a governess on the one hand to educate three children for nothing, and to humbug some parent on the other hand into paying for the sup- d advantage of a salaried governess. The advertiser, in point of act, desires to turn her house into a boarding school, and to get | | assistants without paying them. In one advertisement she says “ no | | salary will be given,” but is far from saying “no salary will be re-| ceived.” She modestly suggests that for farming out to others the | brains she expects to suck gratuitously, her own “terms” will be “* moderate.” We should like to see a few more advertisements of this kind, for | | the reductio ad absurdum involved in the monstrous proposition to pay | ALARMING INTELLIGENCE. | a governess nothing at all, and get a clear profit on her by letting out | ' ‘ her services to somebody else, must form a strong argument against | Swell Mobsman (reads). “‘ ARRANGEMENTS ARE MAKING TO CONNECT the whole of the iniquitous system. It is evident that governesses 44¢ TH# Potice-Orrices wits tux Execraic Tetecrars.’ Wau, I have reached the minimum point of price, and it is a symptom of their, #4" Buowep !” being on the turn, or beginning to look up, when a speculator is found | dabbling in the article with a view to making a profit out of it. ; | Tf it is beginning to A pag! Nag while of vn aw - S advertise aj Evasion of Robbery. “governess kept,” as a bait to the parents of “ little girls wanting a ‘ : p . home,”—they must want one very much indeed before they are turned Ty an article urging the fair and reasonable adjustment of the con- over to the tender mercies of such a “ lady”—it is time to consider, fiscation called Income Tax, the Times remarks, At present the whether the governess bad not better take her abilities directly intothe | 5t#te and the fraudulent contributor are much on a level.” The Times market, without the intervention of the middle-woman being assented to. | ' 100 charitable to the State. The State is the housebreaker who While we are on the subject of the Curiosities of Advertising Litera-| YS to know where all the money is. The fraudulent contributor is ture, we may as well refer to our friend the Lancet, which sometimes | ‘te housekeeper who misinforms the thief. comes out rather strongly in this way on the subject of medical prac- tices. We saw an instance, the other day, in the shape of an adver- tisement of a surgical connection, the chief recommendation to which , 4 GOOD BIDOANCE. | was its being “ on a line of railway to all parts of the kingdom.” Such| Tue emigration of the Irish is called an Eiodus, We wish its an opening on the Eastern Counties two or three years ago would have | resemb’ance to that celebrated egress could be completed \by their | made the fortune of any young, practitioner, who was able to put this | sacerdotal rulers heading the expedition. and that together, when in to collect and combine the disjecta | | membra of unfortunate passengers. . Oe Perhaps the “ funniest” advertisement that has met our eye for some Expensive Favours. , time is the following; and as we like to finish with something pleasant, Tae Derbyi Aber nae -_— yites, we are told, spent many thousand pounds for favours _ we will wind up with it. Here it is : to be worn by their partisans, during the elections. They have paid | UX ETRANGERES—A LADY wishes to find in the middle of Sep-| very dearly for them, we are afraid, for it is very clear. that + tember, a young German girl of from 12 to 14, to speak and read German with | favours have not met with many returns, Printed by William Bradbury, of No. 13, Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, and Frederick Mullett Evans, of No.7, Church Row, Stoke Newington, both in the County of Middlesex, Printers, at their Ofice in Lombard Street, in the Preciact of Whitefriars, in tbe City of London, and Published by them at No. %, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride's in the City of London.—Saruapat, August Mth, 1852.

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| Law had now added the Lightning. = friends now present) were’engaged, the climate of this country often | safe to be | for that tem PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

sort of PROTECTION being outaiea. (Loud groans.) AGAINST THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH. IMPORTANT MEETING OF THE SWELL MOB.

| Electric T: , ied 1” (Cheers. ERTAIN gentlemen, practising; The toast

liar line at races, public | theatres ap meetings, reviews, exhibi-| tions, sights, and theatres, | or otherwise interested in | the irregular and clandestine | transfer of property, many | of whom were attired in the | extreme style of fashion, | assembled yesterday evening | in a private room of the Old | Shop, to consider what steps | | to take in consequence of | the arrangements now in| course of being made to} connect all the Police Offices | with the Electric Telegraph. | The worthy host, Mr. | Txey Stomaws, who occupied the chair, said he felt himself much honoured by the werry respectable body as had come forrads nl { (To the Admiraity.) Her boilers fe—overloaded

defence of their common interests on that'occasion, and begged to express his sympathy with them as a landlord. (Hear, hear.) Mowrtcomery Mortimer said, that they had a new and terrible foe to contend with. To the Beak—to the Claw of the Lobster—the (Ok!) They were to be nabbed through electricity ; they were to be collared by the agency of mag- netism. Science had enlisted the Levin Brand as a Crusher. (Shame /) Tn the exercise of the arduous profession in which they (himself, and ZOOLOGICAL RECRE

came too warm for their health. (Hear) A brief retirement to Boulogne, or tour on the Continent—perhaps a trip to America—was then necessary. The connexion of the ! Police Offices with the Electric Telegraph would operate as a most injurious check upon that temporary emigration which was an essential refuge to gentlemen who followed an avocation so extremely trying. (Hear, hear.) Bos Smiruers, alias Jones, understood the gen’lm’n as had just spoke, to mean that this here ’Lectric Telegraph bisnis would hinder hisself and his pals from cuttin’ and runnin’, by makin’ of ’em Ma. Mortimer said the drift of his observations had been correctly iated by his honourable friend. zn. Bos Smitners continued. There was no chance for a cove now. The detectives was bad enough; but this here scientific dodge would be a reglar flabbergaster. (Hear) Your mechanical inwentions was| 7 ~~ — spifflicatin’ manival dexterity. (Hear.) They had long hindered aj <¢ ( r feller from turnin’ an honest penny (O//); and now they wouldn’t | et him turn’a penny nohow. (Hear, hear.) He agreed with them | werry respeckbie old gen’lm’n as held that machinery and all that sort o’ thing was the cuss o’ the country. (Cieers.) The Reverewp Mr. Cavernisu Bererave, from his observation of fashionable society, and especially from what he had heard at genteel | places of worship (Jronical Cheers)—he might, perhaps, be a understood if he said swell churches—(/aughter)—was happy in being

but also more or less disagreeable (44 /) and inconvenient (Hisses) : in short, of which the only ad

Ma. Cuizzeut said he feared they must trust to their personal resources. For his own part, if science was sharp, he hoped to prove sharper. (Hear.) In the meantime, he would propose “ Down with the ' wing been drunk with acclamation, three groans were as conveyancers In @ pecu- given for Proresson Wueatstowe; and the time proaching, the assembly dispersed itself. of opening the ONE OF OUR WOODEN WALLS. ahnb he hnetietie iioeede ut the Atlantic the poor Harpy roils : Used up all her fuel, the vessel they strip, And burn every rag, stick, and chip in the ship ; Scarce able to steam, quite unable to sail, She fares like a loose buoy afloat in the gale ; She tumbles and wanders amid the sea-foam A hundred and ten days—at last she gets home, Her crew nearly starved—out of water and grub— And don’t you call this a true Tale of a Tub ? ATIONS. vantage was that of |

“5 | Mrz. Bropenxir has writ- ten a very hook on the subject of Zoological Re tions, but he has left out afew of the most popular recreatiors in u , which known to and indulged in by the inhabitants of the Metropolis. A recent visit to the Sur- rey Zoological Gardens has introduced us to se- veral recreations which seem to be the most popular with the fre- uenters, and which n, Bropeniv takes no notice of. l. There is the zoo- logical recreation of - ing on the elephant’s or twopence. 2. There is the zoo- logical recreation of ” throwing bits of stale bear. bun to ’ 3. There is the zoo- logical recreation—po- enabled to state, for the comfort of the assembly, that there was a pular among the ladies—of poking at the monkeys with the points of clerical party—not a party in an individual sense, but a party of clerical parasols, . ; ‘ : gents—in fact, of parsons—highly influential in the Legislature, who 4. There is the zoological recreation of pelting the ducks at night- were all ing back to the Middle Ages—the good old times—when fall, when the police are in the dark, in consequence of the forges of no Electfie’ Telegraphs, or Police Offices either, existed to restrict | the Cyclops being not yet lighted. —— and limit enterprise. (Loud Cheers.) | R. ILL SuiGG, surnamed The Downy, asked or ? is the zoological recreation of seeing the Carnivora dine at vos there no ope in five, and the more fashionable pelicans at half-past, in consequence of a appeal to Guv’ment ? In connection with Ministers he had heerd | there being two sets of animals to feed, like two dinners to be got in (Hear.) Was there no sitch a thing as | one lodging-house. mention of Thimblerig. r feller feelin’? Wasn’t there no sort of honour, accordin’ to the sayin’, | among certain persons? Wouldn’t the Protectionists old out to ’em no elpin’ and, that and as they had often met in the pocket o’ the people. (Hear, hear.) They might at all events try it on: and he) proposed that a petition should be sent to the Ean. or Deny, prayin’ for Protection agin competition with the ’Lectric Telegraph on be-arf | of that important branch of British industry— Ma. Beterave.—Of which, in point of fact, we are the Chevaliers.| Tue The honourable gentleman added that he should have much pleasure in| NEPTUNE seconding Mr. Syice’s suggestion; but he was afraid the b i ormeett in the Ministerial quarter was the dream of a too conhd all places of public amusement. last. There is the zoological recreation of making a donkey of one’s self, a recreation which is much indulged in by certain persons at | The Queen of the Sea. yacht was somewhat unceremoniously treated by FaTHen week, and the attempts of some of the lords and ladies of |in ordinary to stand upon Court etiquette were cut short by their ing | inability to stand upon anythi Len js meee we most in request was Cabinet would never legislate against electric wires, unless | the Lord Steward, who ee his wand of office for an ordinary those wires were used to catch hares. (Hear.) All the Government | could do for them, he had reason to apprehend, would be to substitute | great officer at sea, and the High emigration alluded to by Mx. Mogrimenr, an emigra-| upon himself, or upon any other | tion that would afford them an asylum more or less permanent, (OA /)| be disposed to extend his good .

basin. Hm Masesry happily has no occasion for the services of this Steward was therefore free to attend ion of the suite to whom he might

VOL. XXII. K amusing | crea- |

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een Pa ea : eae pen aor PP Te Ae eae oat pl eh nies 3 Fenty my fortnight’s tour in North Wales, you eould not have been aware of making the same inquiry at train | not writing at all. I should have carried out this intention fully, but | Heath” (L think this was the name, but I am 7 ne yp | me to deserve mention. I write, therefore, from my residence at | fully that “he supposed the trains was changed, for | Paddington, and shall be obliged by your remitting in return =i” PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARTVART. : | 49, 50, 60to 63). I found myself sometimes brought up in acud-de-sac at A PRETTY KETTLE OF FISH.—CAUTION! _ | some remote place, entirely unknown to the civilised world; or more , pay after a tangled navigation of many hundred miles, succeeded A} . = THE sweet little cherub/ in finding my way back to my starting point at the Liangollen Road. ae that sits up aloft to keep | In short, after a series of mental efforts, which left me in a painful watch for the welfare of | state of incipient imbecility, I flung Bradshaw on one side, and in a Jous Burt, has for rash hour determined to commit myself to the information of the rail- some time past been| way officials, and started, in that resigned frame of mind which, I continually sweeping the | fancy, characterises the Arctic navigator. horizon with his teleseope| [| arrived at the Llangollen Road Station at seven o’clock, and was to see if he can make assured [ could reach town cid Wolverbamptom and Birmingham the out the possibility loom- | same night, or rather, next morning, at 4 or 5 o’clock. I mae ing im the distance, that | to the station-master, and started. I pass briefly over the incidents of the agriculturists were | my journey to Wolverhampton vid Shrewsbury. Anxious to study the told to look out for by native manners, and attentive to your recommendation not to spend Ma. Diskaeci. It isthe more money thau I could help, [ teok a second-class ticket to this cherub’s strong suspicion | point. It was the day of Oswestry fair, and the train appeared to that he now discerns the | an excutsion one provided for the accommodation of the “ pleasure- possibility alluded to, in seekers;” and, therefore, extremely overcrowded, drawn by a very ~ @ shape very much re-| wheezy and feeble-bodied engine, and iavariably arriving everywhere semblinga kettle—which balfan hour after its time: thus providing to passengers the itional he conjectures to be that excitement arising from the probability of bemg run into by the next pretty kettle of fish likely express; which, conveying wealthy people on business course, to acerue to the nation | be retarded by any paltry consideration for the lives and |i of poor in consequence of the people on pleasure. abrupt and unseasonable =] may mention incidentally, that during that part of my ride I was mission on the part Of | good deal gnawed about the legs by a pig, which trave with us the Government of @ in a sack, under the restraint of which garment it seemed not warlike squadron against peer: . : i iiteioen dchorieen unnaturally impatient. Its oe = —— eo highly to = enjoy the little diversion aff I was The elevated cherub con- ajso much poked in the face by the umbrellas and parasols of unpro- siders that America is tected females tumbling into the carriage in a state of excitement, and one of the chief sources armed with sheaves of these weapons, which they protruded recklessly. . een _ Of our supply of bread- Nor was my enjoyment materially heightened by the playful humour of stuffs ; and that since the possibility of famine by means of a Corn Law| several large and energetic young gentlemen, w found to be iron- looms in the past, the only possibility of ditto that can loom in| workers in various ways, and who, no doubt from habitually talki the future, is contingent on a quarrel with our corn-merchant—in | against the roar of blast furnaces and the clang of steam hammers, other words, with our bread-and-butter ; in which quarrel, the cherub! sequired the practice of invariably roaring at the top of their voices, Protectionists. in the high position hopes the people of England will not back the | and who made me an involuntary confidant of their amours, adventures, not ished and achievements during the fair, which did a by the unprotected females of whom I have spoken. We reached Wolverhampton at last, about an hour after our time, A PLEASANT WAY HOME. bat fertunately wanjend. I had ennionsly vaperted my inguinien - stations along the , a8 to the possibi my getting on (From our own Correspondent.) ue _ pear nee —— by a and " * . : igh in office on the different platforms, that this was i Wien you requested me to act as your own correspondent during ) : ‘Wolve ihn - beeneies the utter impossibility of my writing you any letters, under the exeite-|informmg me that I was in error and could not get —— oo ment of new scenes, the inconveniences of travelling, and the remoteness | Birmingham, when he was checked by a very tightly from all ordinary means of communication of the district in question. [| 5uttoned up in authority and a blue assured me that it assure you I have not seen a Times during the whole fortnight less than | ¥4$ all right, and that I should find myself at Euston at six, | two days old. The staleness of the news, in fact, in these pastoral | 4-™- ‘ake this gentleman’s Jngpage to a cab,” he “eer authori- regions, can only be equalled by the freshness of the eggs. | therefore | ‘atively, in conclusion.—“ Don’t I go om from here? No, Sir. conceived that { should best act wp'to the spirit of my instructions by | Yu leave this lime here and catch the ham at Willenhall the circumstances under which I have returned to London appear to |®¥kward, but was re-assured by the porter, who inf me cheer- ee ’t a’ got on last week.” fortnight’s salary. “ It’s only a mile and an arf,” he said, by way of cheering me up, as [ do not know, sir, if you know North Wales, but if not, as is pro-| he turned the handle of my cab door. The night was squally and bable, I bave to inform you, that near Llanrwst (you will please put in dismal. Wolverhampton is not, [ believe, a cheerful the vowels ad Jibitwm), is a romantic village called Be Hws-y-Coéd, | to persons unaccustomed to breathe carbonic acid gas instead of the (you will please to repeat the process with the vowels,) which is a head- usual quality of atmospheric air. I was trundied along, I think, for quarters of artists during the summer and autumn. Mr. |avrp Cox! some three-quarters of an hour through miry and piashy roads, lit up has frequented the place for half a century, and Mr. Creswick’s by blazing chimneys and jurid furnace-mouths, whi 4 | umbrella is a conspicuous landmark in most years, Among many other| With a red lowering light, as if there was an extensive fire going \ charming pictures of the latter artist, you may remember one, exhibited everywhere at the same time. We stopped. some three or four years ago, “A Pleasant Way Home.”| I found myself opposite a yawning cavern. “Down there, Sir,” That picture, sir, represents a landscape near Be Hws-y-Coéd. The said my driver, cheerfully —“ Where ?” I asked? “The station, Sir,” same locality has furnished me too with a picture on the same subject, he replied, nodding with his chin towards the cavern.—| walked down. | which [ propose to present to you in this letter. By my “pleasant He followed me, bearing the luggage. I found myself ona narrow | way home” I mean the route from the said Be Hws-y-Coéd to deserted platform, flanked by a small two-roomed station, with London. oi- board informing me | was 14 miles from Birmi 126 from If you had seen my fruitless efforts, on several mornings during my on, and some distance | forget from Liverpool. he information stay, to discover by means of Bradshaw the route back to town, you might have been interesting under other cireumstanees, but here it would have pitied me, in common with all travellers in these romantic | rather depressed me. [ was roused by my driver’s ery of “ 4 regions. 1 knew the way to the Llangollen Road Station. This was| which rang through the cavern we had come , and the by coach: for there are still four-horse coaches in this primitive solitary platform ; a railway lamp burnt ma y manner a quarter of the island ; but here ail distinct conception of progress|bench—but no living soul except our two selves was to be seen. ended, and the struggle with Bradshaw began. “There aint nobody ’ere,” said the driver, putting down my modest | | despair of deseribing the manner in which I floundered through the baggage. I felt the truth of bis remark, forcibly, and proceeded at mazes of that periodical ; the wild way in which | plunged from|his request to pay him his fare. It was ls, 6d. Liangollen Road (p. 64) to Shrewsbury (pp. 45 to 47, 64, 67), thence balf-crown : of course he had no change. At this moment to Wolverhampton (pp. 42 to 47, 60 to 65), and to Stafford (pp. 42 to| through the cavern. Oh joy! it was a railway policeman, 17, 6N to 43). not th speak of mad divarieations to Chester (pp. 42 to 47, | appearance and dignified demeanour. “ & Hi ;

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL 87

half-a-crown ?” I — him cagery. * ~y I’ve only got three ’apence| At last I concluded my apology for a wash, and going to the door for | in the world,” was his © boots, found them absent. I[ Ten minutes elapsed. I gave my driver the half-crown ,_ a I heard him drive off. | engines appeared to me now to be wide awake, and | inferred the I alone with the dignified policeman. He looked vacantly at my | speedy starting of the train. I rang more wildly. The slipshod maid- lu “Where are the porters?” “They’ve gone to bed.”—| servant appeared. “My boots!” I exclaimed. She disappeared. Ten | here is the station-master ?” “He’ve gone to bed.”—‘ Where's “minutes more elapsed. 1 rang furiously. She reappeared with my the refreshment room?” (I had eaten nothing since turee.) “There | boots, which she put down with the simple words: “They ain’t ain’t none.” — Where’s the waiting room?” “It’s shut up.”—“ When | cleaned ’em.” will the train a the be by?” “Arf arter twelve."—“Does| By heavens—my boots were there, a and dirty, as I had put a * No.” “Then [can’t get on to town to-night ? ” | them off on arriving! It was perfect: I felt grateful they had not —*They told me I could at the other station.” ‘‘ Ah—they | cleaned them, for then I should not have enjoyed my night fully—and aline” does ; but you —_ *—“ The devil I can’t!” “No.” one thing would have been done at this a hotel, as it is done * * . in other — of aie eutestainmast. I paid for my bed; nobody ‘ in ouse slip-shod maid. an But what's to of meee, 74 ones eked of cheerfulness, as | waiked to the tlie, at the ton?” “There aint | tought had Limp ~ the most as night in the world. | nn If any Jéaadtraveiler desire to try this pleasure, he has only to follow . co get a bed here! I don’t know. You Ww fe . Hotel wp Yo yonder.”—“ Oh! there isa Hotel.” “Yes.” (ay pesos ‘0 North W ales, aud take “the pleasant way home, better s there, end go on by the first train tox a. mi Well, I don’t know—pr’apa you may get a bed: shut up.”—“ Shut up at half-past ten o’clockd’” ii i er unregular people, and sometimes shuts, wpy pine sh = Yes, you cam try.”—* Will a “Well I doa't mind.” aaa / -_ “i up my luggage an ed me, wheesing I painfuly 7 — was evidently not his — to need not attempt to ribe the night My 1 smmpeindow opened on to the — station ; nlite | Much of a Muchness. | engines were wandering uncomfortably up down all night, sighing,| Tue parties indicted for the Stockport Riots were stated in the squealing, fizzing, and growling, in the usual depressive manner of | papers as seven Protestants and eight Papisis; but we are enabled to these ao machines. I felt sure noone would be awake to call affirm that these figures convey an erronecus impression, the fact being — of course, counted the clock all night till | heard six strike. | that the rioters were povchealy six of one and at a-dozen of the other, Pm rung out of bed joyfully, = = to dress. | = by the | soap was the flinty description one might expect | | en ~k, I had one small and very limp towel, and the wash- THE 06MB THING. a stand was one of —_ inaccessible triangular arrangements, over| Smeru. “Did you ever look for a needle in a bottle of ? i your head against the wall in the | | Jones, “No; but 1 have searched ~— book in the Catalogue of the abortive attempt to get it over the basin. | British Museum.”

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owen oe . a rn a PUNCH. OR THE geosciences — LONDON CHARIVARE. 7 i | (~ EFFECTS OF SALT WATER AS OBSERVED AT THE REGATTA BALL. — Weatherspoon, Esq. (of the Oriana, R.Y.S.) “I say, Tom, wuat’s THAT LITTLE | CRAPT WITH THE BLACK VELVET FLYING AT THE FORE, CLOSE UNDER THE LEE| scuprers op THE Man or War?” Honourable Binnacle (of the Matilda, R.V.Y.C.). “Wuy, rrom HER FORE AND | A KIND WORD WITH JONATHAN. Penisu all the cod and mackerel in the Ocean—fine eating as they are—before we go to war with brother JonaTHan for a cause as scaly as any fish can be that have no scales. We can’t think of quarrelling with JonatHaw about fish at a time when our general enemy is plotting ev to reduce us, in agreater measure than we like, toa a a on if possible, move all the nations, and Heaven and Earth, another place , even worse than Ireland, against us for that end. We must recollect that JonaTHan is now the only national creature of any importance, Pr hy oy wy that is not priest-ridden and pe llr the Sol in the saddle, and the Jack-Priest on the crupper. Our natural ion to JONATHAN at present should be that of a league, offensive and defensive, against despotism and papal petticoat government all over the world. We may, however, remonstrate with JowaTHaw in a brotherly way on occasion; and we do so remonstrate with him respecting the following passage from the New York Herald, on the supposition that it correctly expresses his mind as to the matter ermal us: “It is a shame that the survey of those islands, rd yd quae Gao weothen teu oe merece and Christianity —it is a burning shame that the expedition for these great objee's should be broken up, fromthe necessity of detailing the -ship Posty Vommodore to the protection of our Yankee fishermen in the Bay of Now, JonaTHay, are you not taking this querulous—and audibly nasal—tone rather inconsider ately? Does it not occur to you that you are a little inconsistent in setting out to convert the heathen to “Commerce and Christianity ” in one quarter of the globe, and going a-poaching in the other ? _ Never mind your collocation of “Commerce and Chris- tianity.” Success to you in your endeavour to convert the Japanese to both your religions. nein How to Make One Dizzy. Take one half Protection, and one half Free Trade, and | pour from one Conservative measure to another, until you get | a fine head with plenty of froth. It is this mixture of half-and- half, smartly combined, that makes one Dizzy. WANTED A DIPLOMATIST. Wnere is the celebrated statesman, M. Piscatory? He | APT RIG, AND THE CUT OF HER MAINSAIL, I SHOULD say six’s DOWN From THE| would be the man to negotiate for us with the Americans the Port ov Lonvon ; but I’Lt signat THE Commopore To Come AND INTRODUCE Us!” | settlement of our dispute about fishing. | THE LAST KICKS OF PUFFERY. Map attempts are being continually made to give to even the air an air of novelty. A few days an individual to whom it is immaterial | whether he stands on his head or his heels, lowered himself by going up in a balloon, from which he was suspended so fearfully that it was | a moment of horrid suspense to all who looked on, as well as to the aéronaut. He, however, seemed to be quite at home, and neither to care where he happened to hang out, or to feel the inconvenience of being completely tied by the leg, for the time being. It is true that he did it as easily as if he had been “ native ard to the manner born,” for the operation ; but a man who is “ born to be hanged,” even by the | leg, is scarcely a desirable person for the public to make acquaint- | ance with, This, however, is nothing to the ascent of Monsteur Porrevin with | a carriage and four—a feat that might terminate rather awkwardly for those on ¢erra firma, inasmuch as if the exbibitor were to throw himself on the public, or to tumble on the public, which would be much the same thing, the effect would be far from agreeable. As to science being aided by these pieces of fool-hardiness, the idea is absurd, and we | think M. Porrevry himself, with his carriage and four in the air, | would be puzzled to tell us what he is driving at. | SS = | No Getting Out of It. Tae Marquis or Lonpowperry can get nothing out of Lovis| NaPoLeon respecting the liberation of Anp-EL-Kaper ; his HicnNness | -—. vaving seemingly condemned himself to the silent system for his breach | of promise sooner or later to set the Emir at liberty. The Presipent is unable to get out of his unenviable position ; but the person most to | estimation of the public. We are not at li be a with (not most to be pitied) who can’t get out, is the | but we can safely say that, in this instance, Ba captive chief. | that pays.” A GOLD MINE OF ADVERTISEMENTS. = HE venerable old proverb tells us that “ What is one man’s meat is another man’s poison,” but with regard to the strychnine, we think we can alter the proverb to | “What is one man’s poison js another man’s fheat,” con- sidering the source of profit it has been to the brewers. Never did any body of trades- roen derive so much benefit froma libel as our Bitter Ale

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dh ey N I nl ; A DIP IN THE FREE TRADE SEA. “THERE, TAKE OFF HIS COAT LIKE A GOOD LITTLE BEN, AND COME TO HIS COBDEN.” Avucust 21, 1852.

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HINTS TO YOUNG YACHTSMEN. be Yay *E will resume our pleasant col- loquial advice. You observe, that it was “all Pumsson’s fault,” that the Parvenu and Bubble fouled each other in| the race for the crown. Very} possibly. I really must decline | going into the inquiry; and | had I been at your dinner at | the George the day after, | should have been inedably bored by the discussion. Having seen fifteen sail of | the lime come into Malta| Harbour without an atom of|_, pected to sympathise with | any such bungling. But why | would Puesson sail her, self, just at the the rub | Why does 4 LERTON t Ca throw his — f-- apprehension? Why did Jowzs write a tragedy on "he ‘subpaet rat =, The truth is, that Presson falls into a not uncommon error. is not content to be a yachtsman, but must needs be a naval man—must mount a couple of brass guns, and give his poor little Parvenu the airs of a man-of-war. By Jove! everything goes on, on board that cutter, as if she was commanded by CoLLiInewoop, or that ever-to-be-lamented hero on whom all our youth model them- selves, in the service—of course I mean Benzow. There are two extremes which often meet in harbours—I mean the man-of-war that apes the lin and the yacht that apes the oy 3 war. Sometimes a line-of- ship is seen where everythi paint and polish—where the oan! in the mouths of the guns als so deuced neat, that it would be a pity to take them out to fire. The Parvenu, again, is the extreme that meets this; and Puesson half fancies that he bears the Queen’s commission. You must have a I suppose, of one gallant yachtsman who wanted to have power to flog men. may be a piece : scandal ; but I can fancy the morbi appetite. 1 oI _y he formed a contract to that effect with one or two of them extra wages, accordingly. It seems odd, cartainly, to ae ‘or the whistle—of the lash. Keep your eye on your friend son, or he will be —— this great man, and ane the hands up “to punishment,” with the gravity of the uine performer. oo ind conellien how naval men would necessarily laugh at your friend Prezson’s affectation. A better-natured set of fellows as a body doesn’t exist—but perhaps their one weakness is a tendency to laugh at any absurdity which sins against orthodox nauticality. To be sure I don't _- how a “tinker” is necessarily = the naval — would seem a supremely contempti person,—much less a A cobbler. ” oP But ther = oe sight | in lsaghing at pretenders in their own line. most cor enjoy, I assure you, the beautiful little eccentricities of Lorp y+» it-% when he comes down from the a to ne a ship, and walks slap towards the stern, ie paar Se So, be sure, friend Piesson will come in for his share of chaff if this advice does not make him amend his ways. I am afraid a suffer a good deal from the predatory incursions of oungsters ” from men-of-war. A greater set of vultures than these fellows it would be difficult to find. And the worst of it is, that they | “™0ms look on a “'T. G.” or ening gentleman, as they call a civilian, as their legitimate prey a old proprietor of that big yacht, the ; hie ‘one these precocious cubs for a matared tar, when he saw him knocking about in a white jacket in summer. He him to sail the Lumberer somewhere, and the fellow (who was beian,” as he afterwards said,) took old gentleman a cruise which he won’t forget in a hurry, I know. ™ have no objection to a certain moderate luxury in the fitting up of _ yacht—all within reasonable bounds. [| know that the the armorial bearings of Frtz-Orra on the stern—which is clearly | intended for the benefit of his creditors, who find that portion of the | vessel the one oftenest presented to them. An Orange Pip. We are glad to find that an attempted Orange Procession at Liver- _ PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI disturbance, I cannot be ex- Wall; expecal especially when such writi “ly period of the race ? Ab, thet 3 | A. SQUEAK FOR THE BRITISH DRAMA. . Puy re S . my the = multitude. Understand me ; | no they f speech: m runs upon four legs; | am in fact, the entire eolamale i. all you =" writ with one of my own bristles in rose-pink, from the Haymarket ‘I’ heatre. I am descended in a right line—and no gammon—from the learned pig, which may account for my letters. However, what’s birth? When ope comes to be cut into rashers or put in a playbill, quarterings go nothing. | For here I am in a playhouse! Here | jand as I m may be bacon and bacon. am, a8 sure as eggs are eggs, “This, Mr. Punch, isa free country; and I do not feel dis —I never ato submit to any violence, without hav ing a squeak for it. I ask it—is my arena the stage? Is = forte, eccentric y? When nature gave me four (that is, two hands and two )—did she intend that they should run in a of grilling—I | of thrilling— interest ? have I to do with any Writing on the on a wail is only « play-bill poster. =. ee 5 but quietly, so poe Sess oom was my mission, Beaten wen th was never in - | to shine in the British drama. wh Se the the air open to w dramatist may go, so cntomeneioe oe Zoologisal Gardens, aaa dramatint may @. of animals, why should he stick his a | quill into a pig ? Why not take an cathend Sip waamneatiitt co I ‘have that eleptants and pig are. proved proved by Ma. Burvon to be of the same family; though, if so, I treated the hogs as Christians ig? I Lg My again scream that question—why, in a i But [ will answer the question, as—yes—as [ heard it answered on ds. rea, you know Oh, it gives a reality to the scene: makes the ay Sanger er | not a real blind beggar—why not a real felon—why ie ao a en usion, I believe it’s called—at all? Bother art! Let ’s have “ Mr. Pune unch, pi ave ben greatly booured in this da. There was MoRLanp, Ss T- pigs that you might almost nose’em almost hear "om grant. ut then this was art, Sir. Yes; but thrown away. If the real thing is ¢4e thing, have a real hog in your parlour, don’t him on your walls. The stage—I give you what [ heard our prom ay stage, Sir, should et) e: a he y not, in the farm-yard, a real u will perceive, Mr. Punch, that we—I mean myself and my who, I’m ashamed to say, not w aap literary, do not feel degradation of their state, making as free with all the actors as if they’d known pork all their days—you will, I say, perceive, that the weight of the unfairly rests upon us. Now, Sir, it’s all very well with or even dogs, but pigs were never made to draw. However, to give you what some of the critics say of us. (I heard one of our brother actors read it from a newspaper, and here it is.) “When Mz. Waicnt begins to flag, there are some quadrupeds. Three piglings are introduced in the model farm ; and they do wonders in escaping pursuit, consenting to a reeall before the curtain, and finally leaping into ; orchestra, where they con- tributed an adagio movement of squeak, which brought the house down,” “Now. I ask in the of the theatre, why should pigs hold up Ma, ya train ? can’t gag: M0, we can simply grunt author ! “ Tm ashamed to say it of my two brothers, were as happy and as Lat et as real Lag ving = no oo, airs at the ap ben called f for. But for myself, I felt so ashamed when Seen that I’d sooner been hissed with eggs in a frying- “ot Sie sipahaanigtdiiile ir. - agains’ upon stage. ap aye jay, Lown, many ——_-> the elephants have ir poor relations. But —, thi c F “Yours, Mr. Punch, “Owns oF Tue Pics or tae Haymarket.” —~ I don’t complain of salary; pollard’s fine that we're to have—the actors — d stil Hf ° _ > - pool the other day was suppressed. An Orange Procession is the march ofa very for hope, only calculated to > iad to teeb~ef peace. minutes.” Derusrtiow oy Ereuwiry.— Just lend me your Umbrella for five

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Fa ema enn a a eee sh a ae | the deluge began, astride a dolphin. | straight for the Exchequer. Dizzy wanted to have a shot at him : | already blown upon. an bo PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARITVART the Victoria Tower of the Houses cf Parliament. Thought we were SPECIMENS OF THE DELUGE. sinking ; to lighten the ship threw Matmessury overboard. | —— Foundered on the House of Commons.— A PROPHECY; BY LORD MUDSTONE, | . * * * . * (Here log becomes broken and fragmentary.) —— “Only a shower,” and no deluge after all ! IN LEAVES FROM THE L0G, _ ‘ ‘ FEATHER hazy in the bay. Y Cy F Wind: Downing Street | - a ~ ; by Somerset House. Took | . soundings in the hold.* No! KITCHEN CAPERS. Herries to the pumps. |eggs; but we have lately performed a feat which even his feet might Ordered MaLmzspury aloft | fail to execute. The nature of our achievement may be better under- he could see nothing before| rival that of Z’Omére in mysterious darkness—literally throw the him: didn’t expect he would. | Shadow Dance into the shade, and supersede the Pas des Patineurs, or Ship rides like a duck—/) Dance of Skaters, which was popular on an extensive scale, though sounded again, and not a/there is not a stronger instance of a sliding scale than that of public drop of water; but then, as fayour. PAKINGTON says, we pitched | The Pas we propose wherewith to finish the season, is a grand Pas it so very strong. .,, | des Blackbeetles and Quadrille des Cockroaches, We have had recent —— Hazy weather, with opportunities of practising this dance in our own kitchen, and we can scudding fogs. At 12 P.M. answer for the extreme difficulty of the steps, and the necessity for a bumped against something : | nieety of coming down on the points of the toes which TaGLiont, in took soundings, with a piece | her best days, could scarcely parallel. Accompanied as this dance has , of butter at the end of| been in the obscurity of the might bya sort of Cricket Polka coming stone, which, the B—r oF selves as critically situated among the blackbeetles, as ever NaTHAN 4—N—S, bursting into! was among the eggs in the brightest day of Tivoli. tears, identified as a piece of Futham Palace. Fog very | ——— ee thick indeed. At noon, | Dizzy takes an observation. Swears he sees &c. &. &e. in distance : nobody believes him—laughs, and says he doesn’t believe himself. —wWind, the Bank by Exchange-Change East. Noon: Dizzy protests that, &c., &c., &e. This time, others protest so, too—somebody floating in the distance. We put up the helm, and shake out all red tape—I mean all reefs. Approach the man in the water. Make him out with our glasses—and so he proves to be—PaLmerston in his Windsor uniform, with his hair curled. What can he floaton? We ut the helm up again and near him. The B—r insists we shall take en aboard; MaLMeseury opposes, swearing he’d take the ship from us. We hail him through speaking-trumpet. “ Pam., will you come} aboard?” “See you drowned first.” “But, Pam., what do you float | on?” Whereupon, Pam held up for a minute the cork—the single one cork—of the bottle which, before the Deluge, he judiciously held. We ut up the helm and run afore the wind, Pam singing the “ Bay of Biscay,” and floating towards Windsor. ind variable, in all places at once. Dreadful to see every- where the bodies of Free-Traders—even Dizzy nearly wept! CoLoneL StstHorp counted two hundred, entering their names in his own| pocket-book of ass’s skin. Again put the helm up to get rid of the| spectacle. Wind light. Called upon WaLrote to make a joke; and mast-headed him for disobeying orders. —— Wind anyhow. Free-traders’ bodies still float by our gallant | craft. Watrore swears he sees a man alive. Boatswain Berrsrorp declares he’s only one of the rabble. Man nears us, and proves to be the venerable and veracious editor of the Standard. He calls for a Fancy Portratr or THE INDIVIDUAL WHO SENDS a Firry Pounp Nore life-buoy, when Dizzy—(that Chancellor in the human shape)—throws| ror uNPaIpD INCOME-TAX TO THE CHANCELLOR or THE ExcuEQuER, him over, but he declares in mistake,—a file of the sinking man’s own St ee paper: = } pereny oe, sects 2 1 ; ———e —— Wind gone to bed. ip answers everything but her rudder; | . Dizzy says he’s ready to answer for even that. What a fellow he is! | Table-Talk for the Times. Swears he sees next week in the distance. Took an observation: found; Pzrsows in a small way of business are hereby informed that the we were just over Manchester. At 1 p.m. Jonw Batcur, floating in| commodities cut of which a penny may be made most easily are bottled his own hat, passed us. Srstuoxp wanted to bring a howitzer to bear fruits and pickles, on account of the quantity of copper which those upon him, but B—p interposed. Again called upon Wa.pots for a/ articles contain. water; or should have sent; Barow Narwaw will go down to posterity on a shilling’s worth of | to look out: reported that stood when we recommend it as the subject of a new Pas, which will | lead: brought up a bit of | from the hearth, the effect has been very striking, and we have felt our- | joke: still obstinate, and threatened him with irons. It has long been familiar to most of our readers that a devilled | —— Wind, worst and by worst. Found we were directly over Free-| kidney is a kidney sprinkled with Cayenne pepper; but till the Lancet Trade Hall. Saw the top of one chimney at least, with Conpen dis-| showed that the spice so called is mainly composed of red lead, sul- tinctly upon it, waving a flag of distress, a Manchester bird’s-eye. phuret of mercury, red ochre, and brick dust, few perhaps knew how Saw the Agitator through telescope ; but remembered Netson’s blind | diabolical a thing a kidney devilled is. eye = the signal, and—though the B—r suggested something— | sationniiadadaialledad would zof see him. 7 ; —— Wind, squally.—Passed Giapstove on a cotton-bag.— MINISTERIALIS®S SHOWING THEIE AIRS. Light airs —Saw Manners, whom we forgot to take up when| ,PRoTzctrow has been at length abandoned by its once staunchest | adherents, who have finally given it to the winds. We think it rather —— Blowing a gale. Passed Joe Hume in a patent life-belt. Going | wnmecessary to give it to the winds, considering how much it has been B—p benevolently interfered. —— Wind gone down. Took soundings. Found we were just over SUFFRAGE EXTENSION. * Mr. Punch need not observe even to the most ladylike readers of even nuaatical | : : ? ; novels, that the ship-knowledge of the keeper of the log seems a good deal at sea. ' continue to be lost, at the present rate, on the lines, Tue Railways ought to return members to Parliament, if limbs |

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|the value of a political ~ Pledae” better than any onc, and can WHAT | SAW AT’ THE PAWNBROKER’S. [tell you, to _ Ss of a probability, what chance there is of its ever BY NO MATTER WHO. B's — by stating my Fak statesman, eminent or otherwise, F : sets a high figure upon , Wishes to ascertain his real val <7) Y accident I was present at the Pawm-)he had better send his portrait at once to Ma. Puncu’s shop, where be ye broker’s, at the time that Mr. CoLEms | wil] be told in very = figures the price he is worth, not exactly in } ) was “pledging” (1 believe that is the )is own estimation, but in the estimation of the public. © term) the portraits that had been en-| N.B. No Irish Statesman, no Brass-band Man, need apply. trusted to his care for : in his abruptly-finished work of Zminent

Statesmen. | This was what I saw. 7 MuW . . ” This was what I saw. ded up was| 4 SCENE ON THE AUSTRIAN FRONTIER, | one of Lonp Matmesspuny. For this} See the Times, August 4th, 1352. the sum of 9s. 5d. was offered — the | Pawnbroker couldn’t pessibly give more, |“ Dey must not pass!” was the warning ery of the Austrian sentinel he should lose by it as itwas; but as| To one whose little knapsack bore the books he loved so well. payment was tendered imAmstrian bank- |“ They must not pass? Now, wherefore not?” the wond’ring tourist notes, all dirty and torn amd tattered, ied : not unlike bis Lordshap’s reputation, | “No English book can pass mit me;” the sentinel replied. the portrait was wn, after a| The tourist laughed a scornful laugh; quoth he, “ Indeed, | hope liberal proposition had been ——e There are few English books would please a Kaiser or a Pope; Ma. Coiiys, but refused, to take | But these are books in common use : plain truths and facts they tell—” the sum (4s. 10d.) in money. |“ Der Teufel! Den dey most not pass!” said the startled sentinel. The next statesman handed up for valuation was Mu. BeyJamuy ; , Disrazui. The peculiarity of this portrait was that it had two — “* This Handbook to North Germany, by worthy Ma. Munnay, one oneach side. One portrait had evidently been takem years ago, and | Need seareely put your Government in such a mighty flurry : displayed a Liberal cast of countenance, round and mmoured, | If tourists’ handbooks be proscribed, pray, have you ever tried with a happy smile about the lips, as if the gentleman was pleased | To find a treasonable page in Bradshaw's Railway Guide / with himself and all the world. The other one showed a Conservctive | This map, again, of Switzerland—nay, man, you needn't start or turn of face, with all the features narrowed and pinched, and a cunning | Look black at such a little map, as if ’t were Magna Charta ; expression in the eye that seemed to say, “Trust me, and |’! take you | [ know it is the land of Text, but, curb your idle fury— a in.” The Pawnbroker couldn’t give more than £1 for the two portraits. | We’ve not the slightest hope, to-day, to find a Tei in your eye (Uri).” It was a great pity they were not larger; they would have made a! capital sign-post for an ale-house—for, as it swung backwards and ee it would _ — a = rent me on sg side. eae wo ave attracted the Free-traders, and the other one wou ave | 1» : . . : . : 4 For now Ich kann nicht let him pass, for fear he should be bad. taken in the agriculturists. Ultimately this Janus-portrait of a states. | Das Hinned Ghemmanndiene —- Ja wohl ! ’tis on anden man was taken in for 25s ; \ ; : Wen; ” : | Die Sieben Gabbles are de talk of your chief public men ; Lozp Daasr was the next “Eminent Statesman” taken in hand.| Dotsmiekohen | it is dreadful books. Ja! Ja! [ know him well; The Pawnbroker took it to the window, held it up, turned it in all 1 5S ssible directions, but ats could not see his Lordship in a Hoch Himmel! here he most not pass :” said the learned sentinel. avourable light. “Ten shillings,” he said, “and really that’s more |“ Dis Prato, too, I ver mosh fear, he will corrupt the land. than his intrinsic value. I know his Lordship will very quickly be on| He has soch many long big words, Ich kann nicht onderstand.” the shelf, and then he will remain there all his life.” Lop Densr| “ My friend,” the tourist said, “ { fear you’re really in the way to was ultimately withdrawn, for Ma. Coxiiys felt that, as an English-| Quite change the proverb, and be friends with neither Truth nor Pato. —" he could not let the Prime Minister of his country go for so My books, tis tema, are little worth, but they have served me long, small a figure. . , regar greatness less than the nature of the wrong ; The Colonial Secretary, and a bag-full of Under-Secretaries were | So, if the books must stay behind, I stay behind as well.” the next handed over the counter. They belonged to the present |“ Ms ist mir nichts, mein lieber Freund,” said the courteous sentinel. Ministry, but the Pawnbroker — y rejected them, saying, ian are all a bad lot, and he sho be sorry to have anything to do —— wi ”

“ Sturmwetter!” said the sentinel, “Come! cease dis idle babbles ! Was ist dis oder book I see? Das Haus mit sieben Gabbles ? I nevvare heard of him bifor, ver mosh | wish | had, An honourable exception was made, however, in favour of Lonp A FORENSIC FIX. Mapstong, who fetched as much as 7s. 64¢. The Pawnbroker thought he should eet his money back again by selling his Lordship (who, he} Tux business of the Bar has lately diminished with such alarming had been told, “ had some stuff in him,” and 1 for my part, did’ not! rapidity, that the Circuits are nearly abandoned, and the only bar mess doubt the staff in the least) in Holywell Street, where his rait | that remains in force is the terrific mess imwhich the Bar now finds | would come in well as a frontispiece to the next edition of “Jzames’| itself. Q. C. is begining to stand for in the imagination SoncstsR.” ; , of every one who peruses that once pe Other “ Statesmen” fetched better prices. A faithful portrait of| name: while, as to the Serjeants, many d the coif so unpro- Lozp Joun Russet brought 3/. 15s. 6¢., though the Pawnbroker was | ductive that they would gladly get it off their hands, or off their heads, afraid “ he should have to wait some time for his money, for it was ex-| at a ruinous sacrifice. e have heard it rumoured that some of the traordinary how long the people were in appreciating his Lordship’s | Serjeants will apply to the Government to be placed on the list of real merits.” ; ; | non. issi officers, under the new Militia Bill. They will A good sum was given for a — portrait of Jossra Hume—for | undertake to provide their own powder, which is now of no use to their | “ now that he was better known, and seen in his proper colours, (here | wigs, and, though not recently accustomed to go into action, they will | the Pawnbroker rubbed off with his sleeve a quantity of dust that had | resume their old practice with alacrity. settled upon its countenance,) honest old Joszru’s value was, he was, glad ms say, — a ange | every Ll The shopman’s ayo4 warmed wit praises, and he actually gave sixpence more for him | than he had done for Loxp Joan. ana | The Parliamentary Races. Ma. Macavtar fetched an honourable price, and Lonp PaLMeRston Mawy riders have been thrown during the recent Election Heats, commanded as high a sum as any one. “If his Lordship was not | and have met with various accidents; but for none do we feel so deeply exactly taken up at his full value—and in his opinion there was scarcely | ag for the noble Honsmay who lost his seat at Cockermouth, just as a better man for Jonw BuLL’s money—at all events his portrait would every one made sure that he was going to win. This accident is the

| come in capitally for a sporting-crib. It would adorn the bar of any| more to be regretted, as he will not be able to show at the next Par- house where the ‘ Fancy’ congregated.” | liamentary meet, where his absence will be severely feit, for there is Lozp Mawnens, the Marquis or Brasprorp, Lonp Seymour, Ma.| not another Horsman in the country to be compared to him—more Spooner, Mr. Georcz Tuompsow, and several others better known especially for a good Steeple-chase. than admired, were contemptuously refused; “he (the Pawnbroker) | would be sorry to have them at any price.” I had nearly forgotten to state that the Pawnbroker, whose remarks} AGRICULTURAL AnsuRDITY.—A Protestant farmer is a most unrea- and estimates I have been recording, was no less than the celebrated | sonable fellow: what he wants is, that the Plough should have more Mr. Puncu, who, from his long experience and connections, knows/ than its Share in the national prosperity.

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PUNCH. OR TH init iM! is —— Miss AGRICULTURE CONSULTING THE WiIzARD BEnDISRAELI oN IN THe Fourure.” CATNACH IN THE DRAWING-ROOM. “ Wwat is the use of teaching girls musie?” grunts an old single gentleman. “ Ninety-nine out of a hundred never play a tune atter marriage ; and as many as give up the hope of a husband, also give up the piano. I say, then, what’s the use of teaehing a parcel of girls— mless you are bringing them up to the playhouss or concert-room— music ?” “ Why, my dear sir,” replies the nephew or other junior addressed, “for the same reason as that for which you were taught Latin and Greek. You have Jaid aside the classics for some time, Sir; but you retain their influence. The liberal sciences, as the poet says in the Grammar, have softened your manners, and not suffered them to be brutal. (The old gentleman coughs.) Music refines the feelings, cultivates the higher sentiments, arouses noble emotions, produces kind, amiable, generous, holy, heavenly frames and phases of mind; awe, reverence, unearthly supernatural hope, and triumph, and joy.” “ Bosh, Sir!’ exclaims the old gentleman. “ Listen to this, Sir:” and he reads the following advertisement from the 7imes :— ( yi, TAKE ME NOT OTHER LANDS. Price 2s.6d. The interest of the subject, the licity of the melody, and the splendid illustration, contribnie so much to this ballad that it may be safely anticipated it ril me one of the of the day. Sent, post free, on receipt of postage stamps. “There, Sir,” the old gentleman continues. ‘“ What do you think | of that, Sir. That, Sir, is one of your fashionable songs. Will you | tell me, Sir, that,such musie as this—for | suppose the tune expresses | the same thing as the words—can inspire young ladies with those fine | ideas which you describe? Sir, the only feeling it is calculated to excite in a girl’s mind, as it appears to me, is a very improper one; a| spirit of dismclination to accompany a husband, or parent, or guardian, who may find it expedient or necessary to take her abroad. Besides, | Sir, | strongly suspect that this ballad is intended to pander to a vulgar | and morbid sympathy. I apprehend the interest of the subject relates | to some recent family exposure, involving bysterics, that has occurred | , in fashionable life. Sir, such music smel!s—if music can be said to be odorous—of hartshorn and burnt feathers. Allusion, [ see, is made to a splendid illustration, on the back of the song, of course, and consisting, | suppose, of the portrait of some die-away Beauty, in tears and the last new Parisian costume for August. Bah, Sir! ‘ Will you love me | after as you did before?’ ‘Yes, I will love thee as I used.’ ‘ They ’ve | given her to some one else ;’ this is the kind of stuff you get squalled | about through havimg your girls taught music. This is your fashionable singing.” “ Quite so, Sir,” says the younger gentleman. “ But you see, Sir, | they don’t teach our girls music. They only half teach them, Sir. r E LONDON CHARIVARL change at all, but merely a step from one division to another of the | dreaded court—a step, in fact, out of the frying-pan into the fire. journal of French “ Religion:” but it is not an adequate one. STRIKE, BUT HEAR. Lop Sr. Leowarps has spread a perfect panic throughout the Chancery Bar, by the an- nouncement that in certain cases he does not | mean to hear more on each side than one counsel. | This startling piece of intelligence is dealt to _ the hundred forensic non-entities, who never did anything but “follow on the same side,” which ‘means “feed upon the same pocket.” Those | rising young men who were in the habit of rising on the back rows to bow their of some helpless infant, or “party” several degrees stantial interest in any porti the amount of its costs, will that their graceful obeisances no longer command a couple of guineas—with half-a-ccown for an apocryphal clerk—in the legal market. The mute eloquence of some half-dozen lorg-winded orators—whose eloquence is so far mute that it really says nothing—will henceforth be dispensed with, and they will be spared the necessity of lazily mum- bling—like the dogs of law—the bones of legal contention. | The effect of the silent system upon the Chan- cery Bar will, no doubt, be very severely felt, but however seriously the penalty may fall on the gentlemen of the long robe—and longer tongue —it will effect a great saving in the time of the public, and in the money of the suitors in equity. “ i i} - “ wat “ Looms How to Brew Miscurer.—Accuse the Brewers of using Strychnine. arytencidei muscles: but not their higher senses; their imagination and taste, and that perception of the ludicrous, mortal to spooneyism and snobbery, which should be developed or cultivated by the regular perusal of Punch,” LAW AND LUNACY. Aw Advertisement appeared the other day in the Times, headed with the remarkable words “ Iwsanrry Wawtep!” We did not proceed further in the perusal of an announcement, the first words of which took us so thoroughly a-back, and we therefore cannot undertake to say what the circumstances may be, under which so remarkable a want has been notified. We ean only conjecture that the advertisemen proceeds from some unhappy individual who is m some way a “ party” | to asuit in Chancery, and who can hardly be blamed for seeking, even | in insanity, a relief from the tortures of equity. If we are right in our guess, the wretched advertiser will find no escape in lunacy from the terrors of Chancery for, as if to preserve its power and allow none to escape who have at any time been within the fangs of the court, those whom it first destroys and then drives mad, it continues to preside over. The desired change from Chancery to Insanity will, in effect, be no The Newest French Fashion. Tre Assemblée Nationale says “ At present in France, irraligion has gone out of fashion.” And religion is fashionable. Very fashionably dressed, too, does Religion come out, blessing colours, eagles, and the like. In fact, this altogether seems to be Religion after a fashion. The Univers is the The priest party, to do themselves justice, should seek an organ in Le Pollet. NO MORE TO BE MET WITH THAN A POLICEMAN. WE have it on the authority of Str Jawes Gaanam, that when Parliament meets, Benjamin Disraeci is prepared to jump into a Quart Bottle. We have but one doubt as to the success of this opera- tion, and that is—the great difficulty of finding in England a Quart | Bottle. F F ? 4g?b OW.) Fawtty Likeness. — Unctze Bonaparte believed | They educate their fingers and windpipes ; their /umbricales and crico- | Nerusw believes in féles. Printed by William Bradbary, of Ne. 13, Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, and Frederick Mullett Evans, of No.7, Church Row, Stoke Newington, both in the County of Mi! Precinet of Whitefriars iddlesex, Printers, at their Oftice in Lombard Street, in the . im the City of Lendos, and Published by rnem at No. % Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride's im the City of London.—Saruapar, Augutt 2)st, 1858.

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 95 FESTIVE FOOLERY. ‘ne OMEBODY—who happens to be a mere | Ss & nobody—has just come of age at a| a, > place in Salop, and his arrival at years | ~~ ~ —_ of discretion has been celebrated by | =~ an excess of absurdity which, we ma “Sa, hope, he regarded as a sort of farewell = > tofoolery. The programme, which has Ne S forwarded to us, gives an order of procession, commencing with Two Trumpeters and terminating with a Covrte or Sueer, who are expected to bring up their own and the general rear, for the purpose of being converted during the evening into haunches of mutton. The whole thing savours of absurdity, and seems to be, after all, a cheap mode of making a display: for trumpeters are cheap enough in the Metropolis—we have known them as low as eighteen-pence a pair at this season of the year. The appearance of the “ tenantry ” in a procession is always a great point; and when our son comes of age, we shall certainly request our first-floor lodger to fall into line with our tenant of the second pair at the first landing, and there wait for the descent of the attic, so that “the whole of the tenantry” may be con- centrated on the joyous occasion. We shall then furnish the party with instructions as to the line of route, commencing at the point of starting, proceeding down the stairs, along the passage, out by the back-door into the yard, round the water-butt, passing the dust-hole on the right, pausing opposite the beer-barrel to rink the heir’s health, and returning by the back-yard door into the front where a congratulatory address will be spoken by the tax-gatherer, being the last quarter’s receipt, mounted on a pencil by way of banner. Perhaps when heirs find how easily the sort of thing may be adapted to the very meanest (pecuniary) capacity, they will cease to make themselves ridiculous in this way, at any rate, THE CRYSTAL PALACE OF THE PEOPLE, To the Home Secretary (Private and Confidential). A worp in your ear, Mr. Wa.roe. treason hatchi be droll, we d not cast our jokes before certain Home Secretaries. Hush! This way. Ina corner, if you please. Do you ever see the Morning Herald? We thought so. at look as if you did. Still, we have brought a copy. Here it is. A der on the treasonous atrocities contemplated by the traitorous projectors of the Crystal Palace in Penge Park! We will read you— when we can get a good mouthful of breath—a few of the lines: the dreadful lines. You see, the Palace is to be open on Sundays after one o'clock. In that fact the Herald sees revolution, anarchy, and perhaps —a future republic with Jonn Caomwett Baicut in Buckingham Palace! Listen— There is treason, hydra-headed “* Go to mass on the Sabbath morning,’ is the Church of Rome’s command.—‘ then, go to the park, the ball, or the theatre. That is the Sabbath of Paris, of Munich, of Vienna, and we are sorry to say, of Berlin also. And, as one natural result, a single month, in 1848, saw the Sovereigns of Paris, of Vienna, of Munich, and of Berlin, Sugitives before their rebellions subjects. The people of England remained untouched by this sudden madness ;—they were loyal to their Queen, /ecause they feared their Giod !” _ You will perceive, Right Honourable Sir, that had the Palace existed in pm in 1848, the British Throne would have gone to bits like a smashed decanter. The Queen has only continued to reign because there has been no People’s Palace ! We see, sir, you are moved, but let us go on. “ The Crystal Palace will be the main engine for introducing the continental Sabbath among us. The people may go to church, it will be said, and then they may go down to Sydenham and enjoy a walk in the Crystal Palace, and what harm can thatao?* * ** © * Just all the harm in the world. Open and naked profaneness would shock most persons, but this mixture of religion and dissipation will ruin myriads!” Mpyriads, Right Honourable Sir, myriads! And then the drunkenness that will abound will be dreadful. ness ; danger. The materials for intoxication will be u m the premises. Drunkenness will be made easy to the senses. An in this manner. | Again, we shall no doubt have | tobacco | “ruin myriads,” . Now, we are not joking. Were we inclined to| Somehow, ’ No; notopen and naked drunken- | no intoxicating liquors will be sold; but there, there the | fatally suggestive to the Sabbath mind of “Cream of the Valley,” and “Old Tom.” Rum, as rum, is not to be thought of; but—and we wonder, Right Honourable Sir, that the analytical, the logical intellect of the Herald bas missed it—but, if there be not ram in the glass, there will be the sugar-cane growin th ? ; there will be rum in its purely vegetable condition. And can it be thought that “Fine Old Jamaica ” will not be extracted—mentally extracted—by the Sunday visitor ? he tobaccc-plant in every variety. Of course the Sunday visitor will—in idea we mean—inevitably put that in his imaginary pipe and smoke it ! Therefore, Right Honourable Sir, to imitate the logic of the pious Morning Herald, (not one type of that luminous print is, of course, lifted until after Sunday midnight !)—therefore, with juniper-trees, with sugar-canes, and with tobacco growing in the Palace—and that Palace thrown open after one o’clock on Sundays—therefore, nothing will be seen, nothing smelt, but men, women, aye, and even children—(think of that, Right Honourable Sir, the rising generation!) reeling about drunk with gin and rum, and those not drunk stupefied—brutally | stupefied—with the fumes of tobacco ! e know that the gin is only in the tree; the rum in cane; the green and unplucked ; nevertheless, the influence, the sugges- | of their presence will, in the prophetic words of the Herald, | Yes, Right Honourable Sir, myriads. We have done our duty, a difficult and a painful one, Ma. Watrore. We have been compelled to make you listen to the Morning Herald, But for all that, you will bear us no malice. We see you are in a hurry to leave us. Things of import—determi- nation strong—crowd and darken in that official face ! You will immediately arrest Fox and Hewpenson, and Fuiier, and Paxtow, upon a charge of constructive treason—i. ¢, building the revolutionary fabric—and thereupon send them to the ‘Tower. . As you please: but we think the Tower too good for them, Try Newgate. tiveness “Hato, Suirn !” | “Hato, Brown !” ff ATEIMONY.—The Advertiser, aged Forty, of improving political con- ~"* nections, and being as well known for his independence of mind as he is for his independence of fortune, is anxious to form a MATRIMONIAL ALLIANCE with a Younes Lapy, not older than himself, who might be able to command, if not an army, at least the means of procuring one in the hour of necessity. Temper is of no kind of object, as political influence in the scale of Europe is the grand thing needed, If this influence ia the seale can be further increased by the weight of « fortune miffict- ently large to turn the seale in the Advertiser's favour, so much the better. Absence from England having somewhat limited the circle of his resp ble juaint 5 induces him to take this now not very unusual mode of making known bis wishes. Has every reason to believe his name and position would, upon sequaintance, make any one happy who accepted his hand, though it still might bear upon it the stains of recent political events. Any Youra Lapy answering this proposal, must send with it medical certificates of her having been vaccinated, as well as her Portrait, the likeness of which must be attested by two of her dearest friends. Address, under the cover of secrecy, to L. N., Elysée, Paris, marked outside, “ Tender.” N.B. Young Ladies of the House of Coburg may apply. | Tae Gotp Fever.—The prevalent complaint at the “ Diggins” is There will be no gin, certainly; but there will be the juniper-tree, | that people don’t know the difference between mine and thine, rR VOL, XXII, L

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ee ne | aealegmadadbetene tee -_ ? supported by strong bars of iron, have been sériously injured, rage lend net 0 mythiol pammage =“ qrodeted by ths | | with iron: neither did the iron—the strong bar of iron—save its fal PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI Our ARTIST ENJOYING HIMSELF IN THE HiGHLaNDs, “ON wer pays, with my Warterrroor C.ormine, I am 48 Com- “On vine HoT pays, 1 Have THIS TO CARRY ON MY Back.” PORTABLE AS POSssiBLE.”—Eztract from @ Private Letter. THE PALM-TREES OF PARIS. THE ARCHHOLOGICAL ASSOCIATION OF LITTLE Nosopy has planted so many palm-trees as Lovis NaroLeoy ; but | BRITAIN. then, somehow, they will not take root. Ei the soil is not con-| aati ee » | | genial to them—they will not flourish in Fields of France—| Tuts learned body has been holding its annual meeting in a lively | | or the man is a bad gardener; a his business. For | spirit, with instructive results. The day before yesterday, a most valuable was read by instance, “the palm-t ected in t Elysées, although | y wee saeettean afte ~ a ny Proresson Pumrxny, F.8.A., proving that Jack SaerraRp was a real observer. One of them “was broken in the centre, and in i crushed a wooden bouse.” Broken im the centre, although supported | learned gentleman shows that one James SHEPHERD or SHEPPARD was || married at Penzance in 1700; and an authentic document of forty years’ There is an omen, there is a moral in these accidents. —weaes it ne ey to expect i = 4 — Soomuiaiiienien me ill not things ; not “ go thorough, low the palm-| +e’ A oo ’ tree supported by irom—a withering palm-tree, with no roots| Yesterday, a highly-important lecture was delivered by Dn. Rux- grappling the soil of France, and ham the soil drawing no principle of | MADGE, so well known by his antiquarian demonstrating a fruitful vitality—is the very type of that peace that Napotzon | the most satisfacto called by tradition Jack SHerrarp, ever existed. The Snerrarps of Louis has given t . iron : 30 | hi ovIs has given to France. It must be supported by iron: and so | Sheppard's Bush cignalls fom Glen Gal aes | it is, for atime. And then the winds begin to whistle, aud then to roar, ; ‘ ; and then crack goes in the very centre—the dead, rotten | residing for some generations at Weils, seated themselves m—and falli use as it were a band-box. Stronger, | 2 their present do where they have hung out; but it is not fact that any one of them was hanged at Tyburn. The only vital type of in its d of | the intaineee ’ here is life ~~ _ life | known as Jack Suerrarp, contemporaneously with JonaTHaN apy | was a respectable Baptist minister, whose real name was Stokes that withstands the tempest. But with no root, it goes in a storm | ¥ = — | who was called “ The SHePHEeRD” as a nic 1 . a th “ » ” | P kname. ° like 0 rotten hiseh-twig; even though “supperted by iron. | Both lectures were listened to with breathless attention, and appeared — | to carry conviction to the minds of a crowded auditory. ECONOMY IN ROYAL SALUTES. —EE “Screntrvic Punca, atin ‘ . “Great objection is made to the waste of gunpowder which Honi Soit qui Mal y Pense is made in firing salutes. To save this expense, and at the same time| Lovis Narogon is doing his utmost to bring into popularity the preserve for illustrious personages the honour of being stunned, let me | Bee, as the emblem adopted by his uncle. Unfortunately for M. en recommend to the notice of the Lords of the Admiralty the substance | the Bee may be suggestive of the sting as weil as of the ; as | called Quadrochloride of Nitrogen ; which is one of the most explosive | 4 symbol of Imperial power, the Bee may be looked upon as | compounds known. You make it by simply setting a jar of chlorine to | ee stand inverted in a solution of sal-ammoniac: materials cheap enough. A drop of it no bigger thana pea goes off with a loud bang; and a very 7B RAs OF TERROR. small quantity of it would make a greater noise than a forty-pounder; Mrs. Gamp opened her window t! besides which, it has the advantage of being extremely dangerous, and pourig with rain, exclaimed, in tue ; much more likely than gunpowder to blow hands off; moreover, of if we aim’t been and got Loap Maipsi_.. . » delugeoa !” smelling perhaps worse. Of the truth of these statements, | am ready ——— to take my “ D vy.” AVY. SOMETHING LOOMING IN THE FRENCH FUTURE. “ The Laboratory, August, 1862.” — - | se , WE see that the name of the French Minister of the Finances is | ("= See Foutp. From this name we augur that the French will shortly be Tue Enp or Lire.—The end of man’s life is Glory. The end of presented with an Income Tax, considering how deliciously the English woman’s life is about two-and-thirty. in that respect have been Foo.en. that crushed » weoden house ! | later date, which ean be traced to the great grandson of Gzonce | Somehow, | THE oy" Court — eS a9? as | i i t: it wi but | One of the Leomen of the Guarda; w CHARY, LACH., Or JACK iron will net sheage werk the willof the despot: it will do mach, ba SHEPHERD was clearly identical with the famous hero and saint of the , in 7 that no such person as the highwayman, | A j

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PUNCH, MR. JOHN THOMAS AND THE FEAST OF EAGLES. Vang Doo, Rew de River Lee, Farry, August 15th > fifty thousen men, joners 80 guy, This mornin’, to the Mad Lane Church Set hout at brake of day. Perhaps u think they went to church | And then free grashus at the play They shode us, harfter dinner, How one Hacustvs once forgave, A most howdacious Sinner.* In corse Hacustus menes the Prinse, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL 97 O! Mary Hayy, I planely sea A Frenshman’s fate is fitin, For sham fites, and the Sham de Mars Cos ’twas a day of rest; But Lor! they only stopp’d outside To get their Heguls blest. He don’t forgive, it’s true, But thinks that those who like sham fites, May like sham Pardings too. Is all he takes delite in. For here, to make these Heguls fierce, And Few de y we should ave ad They ’ve ad a feest of Heguls here ; And ve and the ap-aqueter, At nite in hevery Rew; Lawk! how our foke would stair They allus get the to wet But many fokes were grately vexed If at oles a they found, Their bekes in Warter. When the wind put out the Few. Sueh pang pues For hold Napotgon should have sat If he such earyon did purwide, st Gay me may te Upon a bees of flame ° His sitty frens, I no, agen, To sho the peepul how he thro’ Would cum prepaired, wen are they dined, With him to pik a cro. But, Hontry Noo, Freuch Heguls, Dere, For wich sach blud is spilt, blessed The Prinse hisself cum hout te-see, The Heguls and the men. Though, raily, harfter wotu no Sum yeres tuk plat [ wunder —- dares to But when the gass was hal! alite, | | The grate Saint Burnard came. | And Fokes to shout, | The storm —— his firy stede, | Is only wooden burds, hadorned , And snuffed the Hemperor hout. With silver and with guilt ; A Hegul im the Face. ba so l ean iempenptndie An wen they ’re on the flags, they arn’t But still to sea and here the erowds U word of all the fan, Much bigger than a thrush : He seamed . Well noin u would like to get Lor! harfter our brave Hunyon Jak Ven they cried, “ af A Billy from ure. Jom. Such flags arn’t worth a rush. THE QUEEN AND THE GUNPOWDER PLOT. Sez he, “I wish you ad:” * Really! Ma. Jouw Taomas!Conaweiar writes it (inna A CASE OF CRADLE. We put it to everyman,woman,| ~éa-Powcu, and child who have sedu- lously read their Punch, whether for years past Punch has not from time against the bad taste, the bad manners, of blazing away in honour of Her Majesty, nay, of royalty of any degree, whenever royalty shall show itaelf afloat. And now we are happy to find that the Times comes to the , support of Puach. We have again and again given an in- dignant squeak; aud now the Times loudly protests : “From word to word leaps the live thunder.” We had determined to un- cork our ink-bottle, bringing it to bear against the blank broadsides—the loud bullies meaning nothing—that fol- lowed Hea Mazesry on her late voyage. “ Had (Jozew Vicrorta been a pigeon,” says the Times—and a dove she is !—“ a pigeon let loose | from a trap in Battersea Fields, she could not have been more sedu- lously popped at than during her recent eruise up and down the Channel.” True enough. Never was there so cruel an exaction of | the powder-tax. But is net the custom wasteful, barbarous? Or if it be not so, why not carry it out on all occasions? Why should not the Queew take | horse or carriage exercise in her parks to the roar of artillery? Nay, why should not all her movements be reported by word ‘of mouth of cannon ? She might rise to a morning-gun, and sink upon her pillow to the good night of a forty-two pounder. It may be very necessary for the state and sublime consequence of the Krve or Stam—the king | Of the idol elephants—that his subjects should know by a general clangor of gong and trumpet that—his Majesty has dined! Noise is an element of barbarous life; but the refined civilities of this our mortal condition might be unattended by the roar of cannon; and | Englishmen have too deep a respect, too warm an affection for their | dear little Queew that they should, without a very strong remonstrance, see her thus rudely treated by every gan in her navy. Let us, by all means, when necessary sing “Gop save the Query,” but let us protest for all future time against Her Masesty—whenever she goes afloat—being saluted by the “adamantine lips” of forty-two pounders. Noise, however great, is xo¢ greatness. Notes ayp Quvenies.—Notes of the’Bank of Elegance. to time—as he was blinded | by the smoke—cried out “Gon is the root of evil: I never believed it before; and, between ourselves, have therefore cultivated that root — [ Ma. Suaksrsane ealls it ‘the imsane root ;’ but he was only a play- writer—early and late. But, Mr. Punch, is it to be borne that men of capital; men who, in the market and on "Change, have done their believe | reguiar business, confining their desires to a steady stream—(the | stream as deep and as wide as you like)—of profit, should, in their mature age, with as much silver on their heads as gold in their pockets, be confounded, thrown upon their backs, Sir—(you will pardon the foree of the expression, for I feel strongly)—by this revolution of the | precious metals ? “ Gol: Gold fields, Sir'—gold fields! The young men talk of them as familiarly as the Copenhagen Fields of my time. As for gold-dust, they do nothing but blind themselves with it—that is, to their masters’ interests. Well, what is the consequence? Labour's going up— clerks used to be a drug in the market; but now one has absolutely to look for a clerk—as I live, to seek for the article ! “T have—had, | mean—a clerk. I had him for seven years. He began as junior on 10s. a week —(print this, if you please, as shillings; with the roman s. not the d.)—and dinner, yes, and tea. Well, since then, I have gradually raised him—(making his merit, as a friend of mine finely observes, the thermometer of his salary)—to one pound per week ; or fifty-two oe = per year. And—habit grows upon one—I gradually began to like SamugL; so much so, that, with proper conduct, he might have staid with me all his life upon those terms: [ never told him so—but he might; for as I have said, | liked him, “Now, Mr. Punch, you shall judge of the gratitude of this young man, whom for seven years I had warmed at my desk. “* Where’s Sam ?’ said I, this morning, seeing nobody on his stool. “* Gone, Sir,’ says the junior clerk, ‘to buy a cradle.’ “*Buy a cradle!’ said [—‘what! has the fool gone and got married ?? “* Oh no, Sir,’ says the urchin, enjoying the joke, ‘gone to buy a cradle to nurse a golden baby when he gets it. Sam's off in a month to the Diggins, and /’m a going to follow him.’ “There, Mr. Punch. And this is not a single case. A dozen of my friends are in the like predicament, or I should not have troubled you. Will not Parliament—will not, at least, Ma. Drsaauii interfere’ If this gold madness isn’t put into a straight-jacket, there will soon be no getting a clerk for—no; love is out of the question in business —for money. “Tam, Yours, “Joun Lompann.” A Blow for Louis Napoleon. Ow the day of the Paris /es, it was found impossible to light many of the NapoLeonic devices which were intended to have illuminated the French capital. The Paryce Paxstpent must have been greatly amazed at the failure of his devices; and it must be admitted that, on the day in question, there was certainly something in the wind.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. MISS VIOLET AND HER “ OFFERS.”—CHAPTER XVI. H ERE break we off,” said papa one morning, as we were walking a little way out of Brighton. “I shail rg and take my bath at Bari’ s,and Aunt Ratcuet and DaveuterR Vioxer can prolong their | walk according to their own unexceptionable discretion. Only, Miss | Brompton, don’t let your evident determination to reach Beechey Head | make you too late for lunch.” We bid him good bye, and he went back for his bath, and an angle of the road quickly placed us out of sight of each other. ‘In a minute—it | could not have been more—I heard a hasty step close behind us, and looking back, I saw a gentleman, who instantly raised his hat. I did | not recognise him, but thought at the moment, that one of us had — - dropped something, which the stranger had picked up. our papa, there, desired that I should overtake you, Miss Bromr- | TON, and your aunt, and introduce myself,” he said, in an exceedingly | soft voice. “ He declared he would not be stopped from going to Bertu’s. Allow me, therefore, to present to you Parnce CHARLES Nicnotas W OLGAROWKOWITCH. “ O, indeed,” said Aunty Ratcuet, which perhaps, upon the whole, was as sensible an ae could have been made under the circum- stances, “ Arey our way, Sir?” rs Unquestionably,” said Prince, again raising his hat. He was a rather tall, middle person. with strongly marked features, which had been handsome, ut looked very much worn and haggard. His | black hair was scanty, and dashed wit grey. He was dressed in black, | | and the only white ie exhibited was a high but rather rough edged | | collar. He wore dark gloves, and a small brooch with which the long | | ends of his cravat were connected was of jet. He had also a black cane. His manner was very elaborate, but this 1 concluded was a| foreign symptom. “ | believe, Miss Brompton,” he said, by way of commencing the | conversation, “that your father is the very best man in the world.” | Now, as privately | might have entertained some such idea myself, | + only answered that papa was indeed fortunate in securing the kind | | regards of a great many people. | “ Ah,” replied the Prince Cuartes Nicnotas ; “but some of them are ignorant wretches, others are worthless donkeys, others again are | — idiots, while a fourth class may be considered as thankless pigs He arranged this classification of our acquaintances so rapidly that I | had no time to sort them under the different heads, and he hurried on— “ Not one of them would give him a cup of cold water—not one. They ’re not like me, not they.” Aunty Ratcuet here looked across me at the Prince in such a funny way, that | concluded she was trying to make up her mind whether the circumstance last mentioned was an advantage or not. “No, Miss Bromrton, no,” he continued, “I am a spirit of another sort. Your father saved my life. ay though I do not set it at a pin’s | fee, I mean to as —— . I have returned from Russia expressly for the The Emperor refused me my passports, or I should have been “yl sooner.’ It just then occurred to me that the Prince — our language with t facility, and without any foreign accent; but I remembered that ussians are celebrated for what I have seen called “the servile power of ens foreign languages.” ou came from St. Petersburg?” I asked, by way of saying something. “T did? » he said, as if catching at the suggestion. “ From St. Pe- tersburg. A fine city, built by Peter THe Great. A truly great man, Peter. Some people said he was a little cracked, but people always say that of everybody who is in earnest in an age of ‘indifference. Yes, I came from St. Petersburg. I came for the purpose of seeing your father, my benefactor.” ‘ : 5: 3 is odd that he should never have mentioned your name to me,” Said. “ Not at all,” he said. “TI bound him by a tremendous vow never to mention it until I gave him leave. I have now given him that leave, and he may take the biggest speaking-trumpet he can buy for money, and climb to the very top of Mont Blanc, and thence proclaim to earth and seas the name of Cuantes Nicolas WoLGaROWKOWITCH.” I could not help laughin os omy — mk — quiet, composed papa performing such a feat. He | “OF course, I speak oe et ~ a » and not by the card. You quite understand that I speak symbolically ? ves imagined so,” I said. “ Don’t you begin to feel tired, Aunty “ Not a bit, child,” replied the stupid honest truthful old darling, instead of turning round towards Brighton. “Now,” said the Prince, “1 will tell you what your father did ~ me, and you shall then judge whether I ought not to be grateful. are aware that in Russia we all e in trade. Excellent well, 1 was a fishmonger. On a gigantic , of course. I had eight thou- sand men fishing for me every night, and any one who failed to bring me one hundred pounds of fish in the mo was im tely knouted to death. Excuse these trivial details. Upon one ey a fisherman in ~ service hooked a tremendous sturgeon, so it pulled him and four of his companions out of the boat: indeed, they were all drowned, which is of no consequence in my narrative. The fish was captured, and when brought | into my palace, it reached from end to end of my principal ball-room.” “ Bless me, Sir! do you have fish brought into your ball-rooms, in Russia?” asked matter-of-fact Aunt RaTcHeT * Excuse the jest,” replied the Prince; “but why not one sturgeon | dear ?”

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N\ \W a sari ‘s JOHN AND JONATHAN. Punch. “ Now, Master Buti, wuar’s atu tuis Noise apnout ?” Master Bull. “Ivy you puzase, Six, younc JonaTHaN wantep my Dinner, anv A Fisu Bone | STUCK IN HIS THROAT. Burt IT’s ALL RIGHT, NOW.” clit Avcust 28, 1852.

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_PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARLI. 101

where there were sO many pairs 3 of soles ? "And he evidently waited for a laugh; but as none came, he went on. LINES ON AMALGAMATION. “T had been giving a ‘er- JSée to all the nobility, gentry, and clergy of my province, and I astonished them by bringing in m i ' ba 2 famous [lighland§ caterans ; fish in the middle of a general Mazourka. It was the largest fish of Vere chiefs—or chairmen — ‘of the kind ever seen; and, as I need not tell you, we make caviare tom their clans, sturgeon-roe, I anticipated a large profit. But some of my guests, Which—say Mac Nas,” and envious at my good fortune, informed the Czar. The Father of his “ GreGaLacn "— people immediately demanded my fish.” “Just as the Duke did the Margate whale,” said Aunty. “I remember seeing the picture in Punch, of His Grace pulling one way, and the poor fishermen the other. I am told that they exhibit it along with the skeleton at Marg “ Well, the first message I evaded, by causing the courier to be thrown down a precipice. The second I also eluded: my faithful vassals disposing of the messenger—I never asked how, or for the) money found on the body. But then the Czar, in » rage, dispatched | GeweraL Rusieskorr with orders to bring both me and my fish to | the capital ; and there’s no playing with the military in Russia, I iar wont to spoil the “ Sas- And co not stealing Lowland cattle, Engaged in internecine battle : There having raged, five hundred years, ; A feud between these mountain- eers. They, eaten up with vengeful pride, Reeip homicide

sent my ‘caviare to the General,’ and surrendered myself prisoner. == interchanging theft and The Emperor ordered that I should be thrown into the Newa. The | Emperor was obeyed.” Carried he hereditary wars on.

Now Dovcar’s dirk pierced Dowa.p’s brother ; Then Dowatp went and stabbed “ But you were not drowned, sir?” said Aunty, who was beginning | to take an intense interest in the narrative, and always liked to know | “whether the executioner got his money.”

“ Madam, I will not contradict you. But it would have been my | ee tinny the other : poate duty to do so, 7 for the fact tat thie ‘young aay father, | Now ) stole the sheep or a young man, who was cruising in his yacht on river in question, | hooked me out with a boat-hook, and in defiance of the Czar Thes Prnous, fol Du had state inet now ; and all his cannon, set sail, and carried me clean out of the country.” Br fi ERGUS, OUOWINE On it back ; “Papa own a yacht! Papa visit Russia!” And I began to have! hod pee ees: —s a tare, some strange misgivings; and this time it was | who was tired, and I | Each other’s crazy shieli om wend fam Ses Brigh ~< “ These quarrels were a sort of boon Most true,” said the Prince. “For years I dared not return to To what was called the “ Lowland Loon,” my native land ; and I lived at Peckham Kye, upon your father’s On whom the robbers could not prey; P bount At last the Em ror died.” Whilst they were fighting out a ray. “ hich Emperor ? asked hastily. At last this struck the sharper chiel, The Empexor Pavt,” replied the Prince, without the least dis- Who thus bespoke his rival thief: sng er O how I looked up and down, then; but there was not a/| “Pat gude’s this feud our clans between ? reon in sight. Ou, hawks should na pike out hawk’s een ; e being succeeded by the present man, Nicuotas, (who| Let's ma it up, baith t’se and t’ither, pet like me and never liked caviare,) 1 went back, regained my black mail thegither. ” estate, which had trebled its value, and I now stand here, the richest The fot pend p of the oe oe gang subject of the Czar, come over to England to show his gratitude to his (quick wick at this sage proposal sp ver.” I knew that Aunt’s historical information would not make her Lay ls toler went tile were sun undered, critical, and I was hardly surprised to hear her say— So has there o tensile “T never heard of this, sir; but your feelings do you credit.” "Twix Clan Mac zm, Sex and Clan Mac Russsu, We atom at pier oid a - tr | = allowances a tom. line with line of rail, accept no at my 8,” Highness mo y. - ot have offered h fon dees diamonds, roubles, slaves—all in vain. But I have Bo baa Mace going = ——— at Inst hit upon a scheme, and - which cannot fail.” To compromise their mutual feud, «And what may that be, sir?” said poor Aant. And, like those humbugs of the heather, I shall make his lovely daughter, here, the Princess WoLeaRow- Put borses—I mean traine—together. KowiTcH,” said the Prince in a determined voice. “I endow her Now should this scheme be brought to bear, with two provinces, one million of peasants, three pints and a half of | How will the British public fare ? diamonds, a mountain of malachite, an ice palace, a menagerie of Fare? why our fare may be as heavy bears, and myself. Does the prospect please you, lovely Viouet, and On Southron as was Gaelic levy / will you be content to bloom im the shade of the Uralian mountains ? Collected by the breekiess rogues I pause for » reply.” In tartan kilts and cowskin brogues. And the Prince took off his hat and fell down on his knees before us. When certain folks fall out, ‘us known, Before we could make up our minds whether to scream or to Seme other felke obtain their © saddenly Pas ag Bughies i S — 7 a the head of | lf Kailway Boards combine, othe quite ui riding-master cantering up at the about twenty of his pretty pupils. The cavalry saved Py Time honest people should unite. The Prince sprang to his feet, and in a respectful, and I may say, humble voice, said— "Tea time the curtain should fll on the fare but I will hope for Walking the Plank.

pardon and whieh I have a gracious public. If, ladies, the little N “ romance, hich avotzon the Grest called the throne “a plank covered with afforded you dnd. 4 oo ile your hour of leisure, has velvet.” Napozow the Little is at present busy “ walking this plank,” t (and he pulled out some) | and © tee hee be thoug pt himself up hitherto with wonderful luck, yellow ears) is te oy si, bre at = hg oy s large | still it would be too much for any one to say whether he will be able to few tickets. Shall I I appeal in vain?” y ‘maintain his equilibrium with the same steadiness until he gains his And you are no Prince? and you don't know Mz. Buomrros?” Bd. And when he does, who can tell whether, at that Mat A be asked AUNT RatcHET with much indignation. may not suddenly fall over and disappear in the “sea of di ies” “I know not which is the greater misfortune,” said the poor actor, | t for some time, has been raging underneath him. Far bappier to “but both are mine. I secidentally overheard your parting, and| be ce ALBERt, and “walk the slopes” every morning !] Necessity whipped up her child, i to. do the rest.” —

“ But you have a large and I the woman would a ae say that directly, and, moreover, | “NO OWE KNOWS WHEN HE’S WELL OP.’ buy two tickets, like a dear old goose as she is. And 1 am no better: | So says the popalar saying ; a lies woman a Govern- | for when I saw how thankfully the Prince looked at the balf-crowns, I| ment Steamer, for that is no sooner ” than it is loot to come must make her take two more tickets for the Parscess Wotearow-| back again for repairs ; and it comes back s0 often, that not a soul on KOWITCH. | board can tell “ when he ’s well off.”

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Sarees I a se - = a ee ae tare ee Agee nee PD Em ~

102 PUNCH, OR

THE LONDON CHARIVARL

THE DISPUTE WITH BRITAIN! From the New York Patriot. “Our readers require, and indeed know | well, that they may expect from us the very best and most copious details concerning the dispute with Britain. Yes! j “That this matter with regard to the fisheries may be amicably settled is our dearest wish—but the overwhelming audacity | of the British officials will probably lead to awful consequences. y war may ensue |) “ Wesster and the British tative dined together, and played blind man’s buff yesterday. Yet, after ail, where are the thirty- | two’s that the War Department promised ? | Why has not the brig Loafer yet emerged from the Shooterback ? “Peace is the dearest desire of our hearts, but the audacious British, infamous in oppression, march on us, The Volunteers are forming on the common, near our office. JowatHaw loves his brother Buxt, but if | Butt will boqsurt with a bloody hand, and | squashed, his blood be on his own head. “Amity we cry! And where are the fire-ships that BuLiskeRr invented, under the | command of Captaris Moce? , &c., &c., &e.”

Stor nim!—A Scotch gentleman puts the postage stamps wrong way up on his letters, “La! Pa, Dean!—Wuat 1s THe MEANING oF ‘ KoeLRuTeRIA PaNicuLata;’ AND WHY and calls it, with a tender feeling,—Turning SHOULD SUCH A LITTLE TREE HAVE SUCH A VERY LONG wWaMs?” | MELPOMENE, A STAR AT LAST. As devout worshippers of the lofty and ennobling purposes of the drama of the present hour, we are delighted to find, on the authority of Astronomer J. R. Hivp, that | the new star discovered by him—a star, or planet rather,

“is one of the nearest to us of the group between Mars and Jupiter, the period of revolution being 1260 days, which places it between Fiona and Victoria.” ‘This star was discovered on the 24th of June, and its discoverer solicited the Astronomer Royal to become its godfather By the way, what says the immortal SHaksreane—“ the divine Witttams” of the enthusiastic French—of such godfathers ? “ These earthly godfathers of Heaven's lights, That give a name to ev'ry shining star, Have no more profit of their shining nights Than they who walk, and know not what they are.” However, the Astronomer Royal has kindly acquiesced in the wish of Mr. Hrnp, and stood a name—(it is all that is necessary ; planets coming into the world with their own silver, require no gift of Apostie’s spoons or tankards,) The name is—Melpomene! There: is not that handsome to the British drama; that, at last, has a star; a planet, we mean, that will shine its best of nights without any salary whatever ? : Punch, however, suggests an improvement even upon the name of Melpomene ; and would avail himself of the starry discovery to prove to America, that the English public do not persecute and crush transatlantic genius. “ Unfortu- nately for me, 1 am an American,” said Mr. Bucnawan, rolling his stage thunder against the Times that said he might ripen into utility, but was certainly not a full-blown genius. Well, as matters are rather ticklish between the coun- tries, and we may have Epwin Forrest appointed captain of a bomb-ship commissioned to burn down London and set the Thames on fire, let us try to conciliate. Punch therefore suggests that the new = bet discovered by an Englishman, and by our Astronomer Royal (for it seems there ts a royal road to astronomy) named Melpomene, should be re-christened Susaw Cusumax! And, by the way, should Pusch himself discover another star—provided the star be no bigger than a brass pin’s head—Pxach here pledges himself to call that star—Buchanan! Isn’t that handsome ?

4 ee ——=

@ penny !

SMOKED TO DEATH. | LEXANDRE Dumas says, “It tT ] mh <5 wf Ny Ss \ 7 j V

is to the absence of sup- | pers, and to the universal resence of the cigar, that attribute the degenera- ion of the French esprit.” It seems to be a curious recipe for making a person )\\ pirttuel—be must sup, | 5s but not smoke. Accord- ing to our ALEXANDRE, oneof the tombs of French wit has been a cigar-box, | and we do not wonder at it, considering the exe- crable cigars a French box generally contains. They | are enough to poison any one. On the lid should be cigars French wit, at the present — moment, might not only be “alive,” but “kicking”’—yes, kicking Louis NaPoLzon right out of the kingdom. tobacco is so bad. It is made purposely the worst in Europe, to prevent the growth of French esprit. The latter is a dangerous insect, known all over the It is for this reason, depend upon it, that French | world for its sting, and so Government takes care to smoke it to death with Government tobacco,

Of-fish-al Intelligence. Take our word for it, there will be no fighting between America and England. | We have seen a letter from the President to Ma. THomas Barine, that breathes | nothing but Port and Sherry. It is an invitation to dinner, and is couched in the | following terms :—‘* Come and discuss this matter pleasantly. There will only be a | quiet little bit of fish, and a small bone to pick afterwards.”

Tue Iwrivence or Diyyers.—“ There is no dispute in this world so large that it cannot be covered with a Table-Cloth !”—4 diplomatist of the Old Rocher-de- | Cancale School.

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PU NCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL 103 BALLOON ASCENT (NOT VERY?) EXTRAORDINARY ! - ly consequence of the high opinion which the Granp Cockalcyg Pieasure Grouwps have formed of the Taste of | the British Pustic, they have determined on presenting, to-morrow evening, the unparalleled Atrraction of the TERRIFIC ASCENT OF TEN BALLOONS! To the Car of each of which are suspended by the Heels, six HUMAN BEINGS! ! The number of Tew Battoons has been po on, because it is | po ral impression that in a single Balloon ascent the CHANCES | EN to Owe in favour of A DREADFUL accrpent!!! and the multiplication of ten chances by ten, will heighten the proba- bility so as to render it almost what may be termed a dead certainty. In fact, there will be a reasonable hope of several CasvaLtigs occurring, | thus affording the charm of variety; whereas a single TumBLE or CoLListon would probably result simply in A BROKEN necx!!!! or, in the event of the sufferer’s falling hon a considerable elevation, | in his being only Not only will the arrangement contemplated by the Proprietors of | the Grand Cockaigne Pleasure Grounds, in case of a single BaLLoow happening to Burst is tHe Couns, insure the Spectators the gratifi-| cation of witnessing an perhaps of seeing more than HALP-A-DOZEN PERSONS KILLED AT ONCE ! but the diversified forms of Acctpent that may be calculated on among so many as Ten Balloons, will include several FRIGHTFUL COMPOUND FRACTUREs ! ! constituting Cases or Turitiiyc Interest; and furnishing de- lighted Visitors with the Magnificent Spectacle of TEN OR TWELVE AMPUTATIONS! ! ! by the most eminent SuRGzoNs, as originally Perronmezp in the Tueatae Rorat, St. Bartuotomew’s Hosprtat. To which, should the CHaPtgm or ACCIDENTS prove propitious, will be added THE OPERATION OF TREPANNING!!!! in numerous instances; not to mention the Sertmnc or Baoxew Bowes, the Repuction or Distocations, and other Lieu TER EntEs- TAINMENTS of a Surgical Nature. The Operative Performances (including feats of the most surprising manual dexterity | executed by Fuh of the highest athe “Talent, together; with | some of the very Serjeant-Surgeon to His Maser the Kuve or Narurs, whose ser- | vices have been retained for an Unlimited Period. During the evening bo renowned Incisionist, MONS, DECOUPER ! | will exhibit his surprising and unequalled éomrs de distowri, After which | the whole will ude witha Grand Display of Fireworks! ! Admission Is, To view the Operations, 6d. extra. Children half-price. [No Money Returned, Vivant Regina et Princeps. | THE SHOEBLACKS’ HOLIDAY. Tue boy shoeblacks—the infants of the Palace; the little ones owe their Day (and Maurix) to Six Jossrn Paxtow—have had ay Cleaning their shoes—like Moons’s young lady in the Loves of “They moved in SENS ove making;” and took their way, in glad procession the City, in their red | costume; the yes They A A | surmounted by two brushes and “ a blacki ne - bunch o en eatioreria etic atl iris’ to all disty di and the flowers ie —" = a... Soci ee and perfume, ae arise naturally out o | ‘The “ were well plied with pies and cake.” | We also trust r+ a little beer—nay, frown not, thou man of leuiperanee, chained %0 the pump!—of course, we mean the beer-of- | Any way, the dg and grateful, One shin y way, ys were very merry, and very y- | faced clever lad made a speech: and to give the health of— Day and Mantrn (Drunk, for there was beer, with cheers), Another speaker, with a somewhat tic cast of —— | begged them to fill their glasses, and—“ Try Wanxen’s!” He sai | that Ma. Wannen—to whom they all owed so much—had writ a book called the Lily and the Bee. (Cheers, and cries of “ We knows it.”) | | And what was very curious, and showed how much their old friend | Wannew jag Bh of ’em—he (the speaker) had with his own eyes, while watching the blacking-bottle and the bunch of flowers Le the | procession, seen—he would repeat it—with his own eyes, |a big bumble-bee, come and settle upon a lily in the te ; | when there, buzz like a good un! (Cheers) He had no doubt on sl | in his own mind that that Bee was Mn. Wannew’s Bee settling on the Hom in his own blacking-bottle (Cheers), which he thought was very dof him. He vous therefore end by giving the health of Ma. Wana with hopes that he would, afore he left off, raise a whole | garden of Lilies from the se 1 and out of his own head let loose a whole swarm of Bees. (C. The meeting then separated. CARDINAL’S ENGLISH. A HANDBILL has been sent about, calling itself a “ synodieal letter,” of which the authors are, “ We, the Archbishop and Bishops of the Provinee of Westminster in provincial synod assembled.” Of this document the Times newspaper remarks— “It is written in a kind of theological slang—in a loose and slippery style, which reads like a bad transiation from a foreign language.” True enough. So such compositions always do read. But what wonder ? divide their lawful Sovereign’s realm into provinces at the bidding of the Pore and Pretender. Contemning the Queew, her Crown, and dignity, are they likely to regard Hen Mavsesty’s vernacular ? What can you expect from bad Englishmen but bad Knglish ? How to Lie. Ma. Juxezs, in his lecture at the Museum of Practical Geology, —— s0ld-digging is very hard wo rk—just as hard work as you see navigators at ina -_.- cutting, You must work hard, lie hard, and with but little shelter at night,” The instructions about “lying hard,” are quite unnecessary. Travellers will be! generally avail themselves of that privilege without being told. } | | a The framers of them are subjects of Queew Victoria, who |

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Pl hw eoeeroere a NERNEY lls AMEN he 104 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIV ARL | ODE TO THE REGISTRAR OF THE PREROG ATIVE) COURT OF CANTERBURY. Wnat a lucky man you are, Mz. Moore, Ma. Moore; What a lucky man you are, Mr. Moonz, With nine oneal pounds a year For the filling of a sphere Of which the work is done whilst you snore, Mr. Moore; All the work of which is done whilst you snore. Three thousand yearly pounds, Mr. Moorr, Ma. Moore ; Three thousand yearly pounds, Ma. Moone, As Canon ou enjoy— ite a “ Parxwans!” eh, old boy ?— hree thousand s+ ‘that ’s a biggish bore, That ’s a Great as ‘of omer em bore ! You have rectories, I’m told, Mx. Moorz, Mr. Moore ; You have rectories, 1’m told, Mn. Moore, Which, besides your shovel-hat, Are so many “ bits of fat”— Over thirteen a 4 ands a year you score, OORE ; Altogether, that’s ‘= figure of your score. You say the place you hold, Mr. Moorz, Mz. Moorr; You say the place you hold, Ma. Moong, That same Doctors’ Commons berth, A small annual trifle worth, Is a patent one, that dates from days of yore, _ Mr. Moore, Was created in the precious days of yore. So was the Palace Court, Mr. Moorz, Mar. Moore ; So was the Palace Court, Ma. Moors, But the Palace Court has gone : | I on't see for the life of me wherefore, Ma. Moone; Upon my word I can’t conceive wherefore. We sure must owe you much, Mr. Moorz, Mz. Moone ; Must owe you very much, Ma. Moorg, You ‘ve » mortgage on the realm, Which would Britain overwhelm, If Australia didn’t help us with her ore, . Mar. Moone ; If the Diggins didn’t yield no end of ore. You ’re an archbishop’s son, Mz. Moorz, Mz, Moore; You’re an —_aa s son, Ma. Moonz, With hereditary claim For paternal deeds, which Fame Unaccountably has chosen to ignore, Mr. Moons ; For merits Fame has chosen to ignore. A pillar of the Church, Ma. Moone, Mn. Moore ; A pillar of the Church, Ma. Moorg, You the sacred building prop, Which without a Post would drop, And you do the Post in silence, don’t you, poor Mr. Moore ? In any sense if one may call you poor. How happy is your lot, Mr. Moorz, Ma. Moone ; How happy is your lot, Mz. Moong, Sleeping quietly in your Undiminish’d sinecure, Whilst your a clerks dock’d pittances deplore, Moone; The reduction of their pittances deplore. They crave your helping hand, Mn. Moore, Mr. Moore ; They crave your helping hand, Mr. Moors, Just to eke their i incomes out ; If you know what you’re about, You won’t show your petitioners the door, Mr. Moone; You will not show those gentlemen the door. By parsimony blind, Ma. Moore, Mr, Moore; By parsimony blind, Ma. Moons, It were not a prudent thing On your office now to bring Greater odium than ’twas ever in before, Mr. Moore; Odium greater than the place was in before. Short work of fagging clerks, Ma. Moorg, Mr, Moore ; Short work of fagging clerks, Ma, Moorg, Being made—why not of you? Pay you just for what you do! Is what the British Lion soon will roar, Mar. Moors; That ’s what you ’ll hear the British Lion roar. FIREWORKS FOR THE FRENCH NATION. | own expense. Considering how deep a purpose | posterity wil | called feuzx d' artifice, | | Lovers’ Vows, Pie Crust, | Boys’ Drums, and Things that were only Made to be Broken. Maidens’ Hearts, Government Steamers. Maxy dull sensible people want to know what can have put it into Louis Narotzon’s head to amuse the Parisian Some recollection of Vauxhall, probably, com | turning the Republic of France into a “ Royal Property.” It bas been a wonder to the stupid | should have treated his subjects—or whatever | pyrotechnical di with fireworks ? with a notion of y Preswwent Bowararte ; = ome. he calls aye tn a splay, seeing that he has hi an objection But M. BonapaktTe only objects to oyuibe which fizz at his urpose has actuated the ruler of the French nation in pla aying off his rockets and Roman candles, it is robable that pronounce that his fireworks are with a propriety | Intsu Juny.—lIt deserves to be known that at the late Six-Mile- | Bridge inquest, the Coroner had to deal with two juries; Juay and » Doctors’ Commons yet lives*°on— ; Pen-JsuRY. Primted by William Bradbury, of No. 13, Upper Woburn Place. fin the Parish of St. Pancras, and Prelenck Mullett Evans, of No.7, Church Row, Stoke Newington, bot® in the County of Middlesex, Printers, at their Uftice in Lombard Street, in the Precinc: of Whitefriars, in the City of London, and Published by them at No. 3%, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride’s in the C ity of Londen--aeunpat, August 25th, 1852.

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TWO FULL MOONS IN A MONTH. Great lunar “double event,” | “came off” in the month | of last July, when there were | two full moons. Such an occurrence, we are told, scarcely lives in the memory of the very oldest Almanack. How many score of years must pass before it wiil| again happen, is an astro- nomical problem which we | have not the courage to cal- culate. But we think we can predict a few of the| phenomena which may be expected to accompany its | remote recurrence. For instance— When the Thames has ceased to be the Main Sewer of the Metropolis : | When our Agriculturists | have reaped the benefit of | what Mr. Disrae.i assures | them is now “looming in the future :” When the Caffres are ‘ settled,” as well as the Cape Colonists : When the Admiralty can produce a Steamer that will compete in speed with any ordinary coal-barge : When London is at length supplied with pure beer, unadulterated water, and natural vaccine milk : ; When there are no longer complaints of “over-crowding” in the | river steamboats and the City streets : | When we possess a National Gallery that the nation need not blush | to godfather : | When farmers cease to grumble, and Betting Offices to “ bolt :” When you can fiad a “ quiet street” without a perpetual Promenade Concert in it : When a racing prophet’s “picks” are no longer simply of the pocket : 4 : When the law at length has interfered for the prevention of 001 : a personal experience, you can cite a precedent for your virtuously returning a borrowed umbrella : When the area of a policeman’s duties is no longer confined to that | adjacent to the kitchen : | When the most homeopathic eater can hope to dine twice off a lez of mutton at any marine lodging-house : | When at length a process is discoverable by which civility can be | extracted from a cabman : | And lastly, when either a lawyer or a distressed agriculturist is seen | in the Gazette : hen again we may expect to see two full moons in a month—if only | we live long enough. SECURITY IN RAILWAY ( ADVERTISEMENT.) Killbury and Maimsworth Railway. | THe Boarp or Directors of the Kitusury and Marmswortu line of Racuway, respectfully announce that they intend starting | Excursion Trains during the present season, to run at greatly | | Repucep Fangs, setting out from Killbury in the morning, getting to Maimsworth at 12, and returning, with as many passengers as are capable of being brought b at 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, lam. up to 12, or later, according to the state of the engines, and the break-downs and stoppages, depending on management of the engineers, pointsmen, and the rest of the Company’s servants. Owing to the prevailing compe- | tition occasioned by the overcrowded state of the Mepicat Paorzssion, the Company have heen enabled to secure the services of a Numexous | Srarr oy Expertencep Surceons, who will accompany Kacu ‘I'sary, | | together with a large body of Daxzssens from the principal Hosrita1s, | to act as their Assistants: thus seeing Practicz, for which so large | | a field is afforded by the Killbury and Maimsworth line. Mepicay Srupents will find Splendid Opportunities in these Excursions. AmputaTions, (under Chloroform) at the shortest notice. Touant- quets, with directions for use, in each carriage. Spiints, Banpaces, TRAVELLING. | and every other comfort and convenience for tue. MuTiLatep in abund-| joie, in commemoration of rome great victory. | ance, gratuitously supplied. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI FADED PROSPECTS! Aas! the old green hills, whereon a boy I used to climb, While summer insects humm'd and sang amid the short wild thyme, Their aromatic turf so soft, which sweetest mutton nipp'd, Is gone—the velvet carpet ’s up—the dear old downs are stripp'd. No urchin now, as one was wont, their fairy-rings can tread, Pick mushrooms, seek for shepherds’ crowns, pluck blue-bells—all are Fled also is sweet marjoram that then perfumed the walk, Instead of that there ’s guano now spread o’er the stone and chalk. Gone are the hawthorn hedges, too, whereby I loved to prow! About the snow at Christmas time, in quest of little fowl, For fieldfare, blackbird, redwing, thrush—(cock-sparrow not to scoru)— With bowl of ald tobacco-pipe to serve for powder-horn. Farewell the holly and the haw! farewell the ancient yew, ‘That haply was a nobie tree when Traxet Rurus slew ! Farew old friends! henceforward ghosts to hauut an ancient brain ; You must give place to barley, wheat, and other kinds of grain. Ah! well I recollect: the time when farmers used to say, To cultivate those barren hills was what would never pay : And—can it be ’—now when the is ruin’d—even now— The whistling bumpkin o’er them drives the unprotected plough ! Where are the fertile acres out of cultivation thrown, If such as these, with any hope of reaping, may be sown ? Sad havoc on the old green hills has questionless been made In British Farmers’ prospects, by the blight of that Free ‘T'rade ' PRO POPERY LEADER BY A FAST PUSEYITE YOUNG MAN, No doubt the dishonest and ignorant bigots who are in vain labouring to sustain the sinking cry of “ No Popery,” } will make their most of the | following paragraph, that lately appeared in the Times :-— “PeusnouTion AT FLonewce. } (From a Correspondent )— By letters received from Florence, it « that on the 74h instant, the Court | of Cassation rejected the appeal for a reversal of the sentence pro- nounced against the Maprat. It is generally supposed that this has | been obtained | o 1 of the urgent demands of the Govern- ment, and with the view of in- spiring a wholesome fear in the public mind by an example of terrible severity. By the sentence now confirmed, Mapvame Maoiai | will be subjected to forty-five | months hard |abour at the galleys, and her husband besides having to defray the whole expenses of the trial; and it will be remembered that their sole crime has been the abandonment of the Communion of the Romish Church; and, according to the literal terms of (he sentence, ‘for tollowing the pure Gospel,’ (puro Hvangelo).” The wretched fanatics who will pervert this story into a case of per- secution against the Church of Rome are of course stupidly blind to to fifty-six | the glaring fact, that the Roman Church has no more to do with the | Florentine laws and Government than the Sublime Porte has with | Exeter Hall; perhaps not so much as the Church of England has to do with the punishment of poaching. We will not condescend to prove | an assertion with the grounds which, of course, all our readers are | familiar. At this time of day, happily, there are few so ill-informed | as to believe in a pretended massacre of the Huguenots on the authority of an operatic representation at Covent Garden, or to con- found the Sicilian Vespers with the Sicilian Mariners’ Hymn. Such zealots, real and rabid, or affected and hypocritical, we must abandon to their belief in fabulous bishops, roasted, Strasburg geese-like in the cuisine of a sanguinary Mary, in minced Albigenses, and in Spanish auto-da-fé, resounding with shrieks of hideous torment, and redolent of living and human crackling. _ Frae! Frne!—The Emrznon Narowson’s fireworks were feur de VOL. XXIII. ad Louis NapoLeon’s | are feux d’artifice in connection with some mock battle.

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= acre artic, Coonriinaars | the musical world. In fact, so great was the noise, that we determined | thunderbolts about in all directions. It was certain deafness for life to | go near him ! | Margots of W—, as he was passing the theatre about half-past ten Horaip Practice, 106 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI " [Phen he has to address his troops, and urge them om to glory. This SHORTLY WILL BE PUBLISHED, could sonsssly be dene through the soft esdiam of a plese. After New Eprtiow oy Wezstex’s Dic- this follows the Battle of Pultawa. Well, a battle was never won yet "qlowazy.—It will be compiled| ~,"** mepuiting sound of « peany whistle, and so we must not blame —— JULLIEN too harshly if he has sent three military brass bands to follow expressiy tor | the Russian army to “ Victory or Death.” It is not every battle, like THE USE OF ‘the Battle of Prague, that is fought on a cottage piano! But, after the thunder is very quiet: what our brothers of Yankees would AMERICAN STATESMEN, | « buttered thunder.” Compared to thunders we have heard in other and wil! contain new and startling operas, it is as soft as one of Manrro’s serenades. For instance, it is definitions of political terms— as mild as milk, or a cigar, compared to the thunder that kept searing, more especially the terms of clap after clap (although none of them came from the audience), in treaties. =i Hattvy’s Tempest : we confess that once or twice we were a little At the end of the Dictionary| stunned, but still our wool was no more exhausted than our patience. will be appended a list of | As for the cannonading, it had better be left out. It is not agree- able to sit in a box, and to imagine every minute a cannon-ball will THAT CAN BE USED aT pusiic| _ The Third Act breathes a little more quietly. There are love sighs i DINNERS, it, and tender passages. Occasionally a few black conspirators come and eee et grow! in front of the foot-lights, but they soon go about their business, with ample directions how to’ murmuring, away behind the scenes ; and then Peter and Catherine come “make words” between two on and love so musically, that the old dandies in the stalls must friendly countries. imagine they are wearing their own hair again. After this follows a It will be embellished with grand scene in the Kremlin, which, from its splendour, would make the mouth of an emperor water with envy. UIs NAPOLEON ever A PORTRAIT niet . If Louis N is crowned, he cannot do better than send to Covent Garden, and ov THE borrow the last scene of Peter the Great. It almost dazzles you with SECRETARY OF THE PREsrpenT \*8 excess of splendour. You cannot look at it long without shutting Ys SS? | your eyes. C7 Veo ov "We left the theatre agreeably disappointed. Our stock of wool J i= . — THE UNITED STATES, | was not at all diminished, nor have we been deaf in the least since, Frond ol Vim We congratulate JULLIZN upon his success, and have some intention of FET —-s who bas kindly consented to give presenting him with a lightning-conductor, that he can flourish, by way ‘ his countenance to the work. of a joue baton, in the orchestra. It might draw out the little thunder there is remaining in his music, That taken away, Peter the —= | Great would be the best opera produced in England since—since—the Devil’s in ¢—since we don’t know when! “WAS THAT THUNDER?” “NO! IT WAS ONLY JULLIEN’S OPERA.” Ture is no doubt that Juttren’s Opera has made a great noise in upon keeping away. All the reports we heard were those of thunder. It did not contain an air but what there was thunder in it—and thunder, too, of the loudest description. JuLLIEN, we were told, was a sort of Juprrer Towans, who for five hours kept flinging his musical The accidents of the Opera, we were informed, had already been most numerous. The morning after the performance, the ground about Covent Garden had been found strewed with dead sparrows. No less than 1,967 panes of s bad been broken. Every drop of table-beer in the neighbou had been turned sour. The alphabet clock in the Strand had stopped at D minutes to L; and it was said that the o'clock on the first night, had been bonnetted by one chimney-pot, and ee — b a tiles. . ilies a m — a And ai! the above accidents attributed to the thunder that : ' aigns had crashed during the five hours and a half the Opera of Peter the — wupeteants See baitl The fi Great had been raging. Such severe shocks had never been experienced | As’yet they only consist of two—two grand mock es. rst before. Nor had the effect upon the performers been less disastrous. |W fought last year at the Trocadero, and the second only took place TamBeRitk had lost in the thunder-storm his “unrivalled C. in alt.” ‘he other day on the Seine. Tus Neruew or nis Uncte can now | Poor Roma's hair in one night had turned completely white. Formes boast of his two victories: one on land and the other on water. He hadn't slept since. Pretty Awwa Zerr, when asked if she could hear, 24 thus surpassed his great relative; for it is well known that the | had answered that “she preferred boiled muttons and turnips,” and, ™peror never was triumphant on the latter! serious fears were entertained for the safety of poor Jutiten himself. | [t was gravely reported that, when blindfolded, he was puzzled to tell the difference between an ophicleide and a Jew’s harp. A BAD THING FOR CONINGSBY. Bat we have heard every one of Vaerpi’s Operas. We have [ris rumoured that Ma. Disrasir means to attempt the reduction recollections of the Row Polka, We have even heard debates in the of the Three per Cents. to T'wo-and-a-Half. Should he succeed im this House of Commons, Was it likely, therefore, that the mere chance of endeavour, we shall speak of him with diminished interest. a headache would keep us away from an Opera by such an old favourite | - ~ a "pa = ~~ ve gone, even in defiance — of the penalty of never having to hear Sroonsgr again. : piven, for the worst, however, we stuffed our pockets full of wool. 4 Doubtful Title. We listened to the First Act, and were charmed. ‘Tiere is achorusin Ws see a little work advertised, called The Art of Dining, There is, it that is as fresh as anything AuseR ever wrote. There is some evidently, a flaw in the title here. We cannot allow that there is much dancing music that makes you long to rush upon the stage, and join in art in simply dining. The author clearly should have written it, Tie it. There is a little noise m the act, but not sufficient to wake a child. Art of Dining Out. We had no occasion to draw upon the friendly aid of our ear-protector. The Second Act contains a little more thunder; but when we say 7 that it is loaded full of war—as full as a cannon—perhaps the thundering | PLAYFUL ABD SUS. accompaniment may not be, in a musical measure, altogether out of| A DISTINGUISHED wit, upon hearing that the Comtz pz Cuamporp’s place. Peter has to dictate the plan of hiscampaign. A series of flutes| title was previously the Duc pe Borpeavx, exclaimed in a minute, | are not the best instruments to interpret such a martial subject. |“ Then he ought to be called now the Comte pe SuaM-Borpgavx.”

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PU NCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL THE B—F—D CORRESPONDENCE. OME one has favoured us with an early Ty) pennants | i enseteetd y “Rabble” im this ec vuntry, which ened onan comes in for kieks, but there is another body which at certain periods violent clergyman, who, except that he conceives the gets halfpence. To deal with one, was as much the business of the be toyias by the Beast in the Revelations, has nothing gallant author as to despise the other—and there is no doubt that he | hi performs both duties with the most noticeable ability. = “ No. L—B—r—p f& Ma. Surru at —. “Dean Srr, “Ty condueting the elections for ——, you may rely fair and reasonable support of the Dike cet men of the whieh we both belong. Prineiple =f they go per capita. T Nineveh. Tames bende wee oasth mach Gummy epeahingd! "Seeieietommamt, Note on Letter 1.—This was to a prudent and sagacious attorney of the town in question, bound up with a serious cirele and much respected. The reader will mark its enigmatical style. Ma. Smira brushed his gray hair back, after reading it; and dropped casually in on Messas. Orsneve in the course of the afternoon. 1 No. 2.—B—r—p to Srviey Seuneee. . Dear SwELTow, “The Lodge. Near —. “Heicuo! This is confoundedly hot weather. Here we are, at the old round of political business, and your queer old town occupies | a good deal of my a'tention just now. of work, but do just stir yourself this time for a day or two—fi sake of old days. Ah, shall we ever have such fun again as that time, when we _ up in town on leave, and we got the Hansom that | morning at four, and put the fellow inside, and drove down on the Windsor Road? Weil, well ! “The fact is, my dear fellow, we must carry ——. writing to that sly old fellow, SMitu, in his own sleek canting way, and | we re going to set a tap of gold flowing, and a tap of beer Our man will show, soon. | machinery in motion for tipping the cads?’ Old Smiru is as afraid of his sleek old paws as acat is. You’re a mere resident in the neigh- | ee a fixture—and independent of the whole respectable | set, gag” that stirs up the rabble’s affections ’ aan with some of them, once. Eb, you dog? “ Ever yours. —- Note on Letter 2.—We were aman our excellent friend. We have heard the where. Was it through the medium of Ma. Hemp? prepared for the versatility of | No, 3.—B—r—p to —. “B—r—p’s compliments to ——. the Blue Pig opens in Syoee’s Crofts. 9h. 30m. Mameluke. Twice.” Note.—We profess ourselves incompetent to explain this little none Po > the fragment has an air of detail. | | T 2 passage from the stables fi I know what a lazy fellow you | about ‘hedging’ and Giving are, and that since you came into the property you won't doa stroke | think what it means; but the | nothing to be given away in my ho } | I have been | flowing. | But the question is, how to get the | Could not you say a word or two with Smrru, and, between you, | declares Little Harry aduck ; 19 | hit on something? and meanwhile, do a little of the more open too; calls Miss Laura a screw ; You used to be the very | Daniel O' Rourke (some |rish = I shouldn’t wonder) ;—I must | name of Sweuton, some- | Who or what is| trimming for their robes, they will fi bonism, No. 4.—B—r—p fo the Revengypy Ma. Mouiycavs, “ Dear Sir, yours very truly, _ Note om Latter 4.—This \etter (in which we notice the little peeuli- arity of an additional s in our old friend Rus) was to acknowledge the services of the energetic MULLYGRUB—an excellent, though somewhat icals of —— to peculiar about No, 5.—B—r—p to Ma. Surru. “ DeaR “Tarumen then is in sight. We aa iBotom pull of it. assure you the Committee at head-quarters stared when ae heard— never mind. Don’t forget the police force ; . the rabble may be | at their air eld noises when the poll is declared. Burn the memoranda, be sure to get the receipt {> the Blue Pig man. By the bye, wwe ne bill from the fellow who printed ——y about the family bi eee They worked his grand- “zB” | father’s failuns well !— Observations,—T hese selections which soled ‘us ote Comticosn: cerned im the —— eleetion, which the signal triumph of the “ Conservative x = gre Ah ae in one of = ‘00%"’s novels, who was observed lashing himself with mud, after a fox-hunt, to give his appearance the general effeet of a hard run. He has really mud enough on him to have won anything, at any pace ! BETTY’S BETTING-BOOK. “Ma. Puncu,—You know everything. Will you tell me what I send | you means ? I found it this morning in the kitchen—having sent Barer suddenly out. Is it fortune-teiling, or what? ‘The girl used to be a good, steady girl, but has of late—L" m told—talked in her sleep | away ‘the odds.’ As for hedging, | can’t allow va —- if | know it, and permit What is the book about, | Mr. Punch? Here’s some of it : “* Sir Rowland Trenchard,—Don't think he's to be trusted. “* Little Harry —\ do believe a duck, Will venture, “* Lady Vernon.—They tell me is a “rum ‘uo.” “* Sir Charies.—Bhowy ; but they do say weak on the pins. ‘' Needle.—Not « brass farden. “* Laura Middieton.—ear she's ascrew, What's a screw ? ‘ Daniel Rourke —We’s for my money. Will sell my gown off my back for him.’ “Now, Mr, Punch, what is all this? I’m never out—(my husbamd, between * ourselves, takes care of that)—so I don’t think any gipsy’s been here filling the girl’s head with thoughts of a fine hushand, altogether above her. Svill, when fis writes about a Sir Rowland ; — her own sex, and that a lady, ready to pawn her gown for ask you, Mr. Punch, as the protector of the peace of families, to tell me ‘plainly what it means, and so relieve the anxious mind of “A Wirz, a Moruen, asp a Housexezren.’”’ Mr. Punch presents his compliments to his fair correspondent, and begs leave to say that he thinks there is internal evidence of the e—, fact that Berry keeps a betting-hook. Mr. Punch is also grieved to add that he has heard that Berry’s book is not the only | book of the sort to be found in the nursery or the kiichen. litical priests of Ireland want a a suitable one in the ribbons of Fasuions vor Fawatics.—If the | Rib

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Ty y | 9 gree DH eat "ee Wiel? DOMESTIC Wife (much startled). *‘Goop Gracious, Reciryatp! Wife. ““ My coopyzss! Two wHat?—Tuteves°?” Reginald. “No, pgaR. Two oF THOSE CONFOUNDED Raspits DARLING—I’LL HAVE ANOTHER DIRECTLY.” THE NATIONAL TUTOR’S ASSISTANT. Everrsopy knows that the great obstacle to popular education is the agreement of sects, on the one hand, that it is necessary to teach orthodoxy together with secular knowledge, and their imability, on the other, to agree what doxy is ortho-. In consequence of this coincident consent and difference, it is vulgarly imagined that the children of the destitute orders are prevented from obtaining any information what- ever of a secular kind. The fact is not so. Many of them are instructed, and acquire great proficiercy in the very secular sciences of picking pockets, cattle-stealing, burglary, and even, as the county magistrate will say, of poaching. They are only prevented from learning those secular things which, in the opinion of thinking persons, are the least objectionable, from secular A B C., reading, writing, and irithmetic, upwards, to an altitude so nearly celestial as Astronomy Such being the case, could not the rival denominationists compromise | the education question, having an understanding that orthodoxy shal! be taught as soon as it can be determined, and allowing the secular alphabet, and so on, to be taught simply, pending the investigation, in the place of, and as lesser evils than, secular larceny and felony? | Educating themselves in the meanwhile, 80 as to ascertain the meaning of words, which orthodoxy is a question of, if it is a definable thing Want of dialectics is the cause why theological disputes are not settled, or why it is not seen that they are interminable. So, in point of fact, the long and short of the matter is this, that popular ignorance is | owing to clerical nescience, and that the ple remain uneducated | because contending parsons are dunces. And now fora suggestion, by | way of the first step to the combination of spiritual with temporal | studies. Let the children of the people be taught Warrs’s hymns, | and the reverend guides of the people Watrs’s Logic. Cocxyry Errrapa ror a Coox.—“ Peace to his Hashes.” WHAT ARE YO! Reginald, (who is very fond of Shooting). “ Husu! Hosu' my pear—l’ve xittep Two! | streets, : i Ny ATTA) eal sos NA) iM 4 BLISS. DOING WITH THAT 1» Gun?” THAT ARE ALWAYS EATING THE VERBENA! THERE, GO TO SLEEP, PUNCH PASSES SENTENCE. Tere is an animal, with the features of a man—an animal by name Catwimont, Prefect of the Dordogne; of whom the Daily News writes :— “This functionary’s latest feat was to set up, on the ft of August 15, an immense transparency before the Hotel de Ville at Périgueux, representing an eagle with the following inseription, ‘God made Naro.zoy, and then rested.’” Punch whistles, and so calis to him this profane dog, and says:— “ Catvimont, for your beastly impiety receive this sentence: you have the soul of a spaniel, and for two hours per diem it shall not be per- mitted to you to walk erect, but, under penalty of repeated blows, you shall for two hours per diem for two months crawl on all-fours. You shall also, for the time, wear a collar, and answer all reasonable calls to the sound of a dog-whistle.” Coldness of the Weather in Paris. Tue weather was extremely cold in Paris during the /#es. In fact, | Louis Napotgon could not help observing how coldly the entire | populace looked as he passed with his cortege through the crowded get up a little warmth on the occasion. We are informed that the PRINCE PREsipeNT felt this coldness so severely, that he has been heard to declare that he shall not venture in public again until a very great | He has been confined to his room by the cold | change takes place. ever since. MORE CRY THAN WOOL, So many of the much be-puffed “ Gold Companies ” have turned out | such thorough swindles, that we think their most appropriate device would be a representation of the Golden Fleece. This is the more strange, as nothing had been left undone to |

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i ~e en gen yee em ine sence NRE mt et Re Nh SSR SLT RNNE ince ey en A ae TERRIFIC ASCENT OF THE HERO OF A HUNDRED FETES. Serremper 4, 1852.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. lil | and, with a little search, may be found there | ascertained yet. | and plenty of it. GOLD IN ENGLAND!!! | | THE PRIMROSE-HILL GOLD AND SILVER) ,,4pication fo; Shores oe te ropactabie MINING COMPANY. Conducted on the Get-as-much-as-you-can Principle, in 5,000,000 Shares, of 5s. each. NO LIABILITY TO SHAREHOLDERS. COMMITTEE OF MANAGEMENT The names of the Committee will be publivhed in a few days, and will be found to comprise some of the most illustrious Captains in the late Spanish Legion, as well as a large number of Trish M.P.s, of the most independent | character. A few Clergymen have also consented to lend their imposing names. THE CONSULTING ENGINEER is at present in Australia, but as soon as he returns, his name will be| ' announced, BANKERS : Directly all the money is paid up, the names of the Bankers will be pub- lished. Before then, it would evidently be premature, and highly injurious to the successful carrying out of the Concern. N.B. The same objection applies to the publication of any other names. How. Sec.—JEREMY DIDDLER, ESQ, Chevalier D’Industrie, Grand Master of the Golden Fleece, &c., dec., dc. Orrices :—COZENAGE CHAMBERS, CITY, AND BOULOGNE. ABSTRACT OF PROSPECTUS. —>—_-- Tue great absence of Gold in land has long been felt to be a general want. It is the object o this Company to supply that | want. That Gold exists in large quantities in England is a truth beyond all | doubt. The only difficulty is to know where to find it. The Directors | c= Company pledge themselves not to rest till they have ascertai point. Public rumour bas long pointed to Primrose Hill as being a mine of hidaen wealth. The only wonder is, that the mine has never been worked before. Deposits have been found there of the richest description. Pieces of copper as tis a0 penny have been repeatedly picked up ; and one old man recollects vividly, as if it were wy ges his finding a morceau of gold, which, when washed from the earthy matter that surrounded it, weighed not less than a sovereign. This fact proves, stronger than any evidence, that Gold has been found on Primrose Hill . again. is a remarkable peculiarity in the nature or quality of the soi whieh —— strong indications of Lo being composed partly o the broken ends of pipes, and partly of fragments of oyster-shells, for it is an infallible law in nature that wherever pipes and oysters abound, that is a rich neighbourhood for Quarts. In fact there is no telling, until Prim Hill is fairly worked, what there A 2 it. For v= Bd — it may A = immense money- y requires to oken open to astonish our eyes with its mnpeneenee stores of wealth. The true locality of “Tom Tippter’s Ground” has never been _It will not be strange if Primrose Hill should turn out to be the ground in question, and from the above facts, there is the best ground for believing that it will. We have been walking over ingots without knowing it. There has been a fortune lying at London’s door, and for generations we have been doing nothing but kick it away. The ° Regent’s Canal, at the foot of Primrose Hill, may also be a Pactolus that is actually with streams of Gold, and we do not even send a bucket to help o' ves | We think we have said enough to prove that there is Gold in England, In a few days we shall be ready to commence opera- tions, and in the meantime the Directors invite with pride the attention of the public to the following assay on its credulity :— “ This is to certify, that I have examined the sample marked ‘ Primrose Hill Gold, No.2. I find it contains 75°09 per cent. of the purest gold, small traces of silver, oxide of copper, phosphate of iron, the sublimate of mereury, and several other products too numerous to mention. “Tuomas Swoxzs.” Future workings of Primrose Hill, however, may afford yet more | astounding revelations of its internal treasures. Something turns up | every reall | under racted teething—certain Sleaphelinn--alens breaking out, too—Ireland has not yet had that | sort, will do poor Ireland any day to justify the most sanguine expectations that on El Dor ado bes been discovered. In the meantime, the motto of the Com pany is “Orn Sore Dra.” Applications for Shares to be made immediately to the above addresses, y THE ARCH ZOLOGIST’S PROGRESS FOR 1 853, E are happy that we are au- thorised to inform the anx- ious world of the contem- investigations of this body for 1853. Hav- ing s lly traced the bees’-wing in abotile of port at Newark to the bees that swarmed about the mouth of Piato; and proved that a ham sandwich—at least stenight line from the Cale rom t e- donian boar, — Proressor Prwcuy, in the eourse of an blished the programme society for the next year. The learned Professor— who was much cheered — N said they had been called a body with less head than ugh to smile at that assertion. Of form was compelled to eat, like any the Fishmongers; but he wouldn’t. and drinking were the necessities of human nature ; and only as considered by the Archwologists. Having, however, been so respect to Piato’s bees and Catepowia’s boar, they were stimulated to further exertion. They would, therefore, next year, sit upon Dorking fowls—a subject hitherto neglected. They would also consider the brawn of vn £ the bun of Banbury ; the cream of Devonshire; the herrings of Yarmouth; the ducks o Aylesbury ; the sau of EB ing ; the toffy of Liverpool; the t in all its phases, of Bristol; the Sally Lunns of Bath; the salmon the silver Severn; and the hams of York, with its awe-inspiring rtained | Cathedral ! Here the Professor was interrupted by a burst of enthusiasm. When it had in some sort subsided, the learned Puscuy said he would not further dwell upon the comprehensive theme. He would merely add, that it must be evident from what he had said, from even his imperfect description of the contemplated pro of 1853, that it would, like the oy tee me take in everything. It was his belief, as a man and an wologist, that such a comprehensive subject as that he had dwelt upon might be made, with proper time and industry, to begin with turnip-tops, and end with periwinkles. THE ONLY CURE FOR IRELAND. Prrvisu, fractious, squalling, shrieking Ireland is a child suffering i inly having its wise teeth yet to cut, salutary eruptive disorder, measles, which Eng! had three hundred years ago. Neither soothing syrup, nor physic of the contrary till it bas had the m over; therefore, they must be brought about for it. The following will be the only ic cham tp tube toa tied on :—Repeal of the Union must be to the extent of land its own Parliament, vi Then, by and with the consent of firs AJESTY THE QUEEN, and not ise, the supreme authority of the Crown, under tue name of the Lor i be delegated to Da. M‘Hax calling himself Archbishop of Tuam. No attempt is to be made by the ish Govern- ment to hinder the execution ony ame that may be enacted by the Papal Irish legislature ; only ¥ shall be provided to facilitate the emigration of such Protestants as may wish to get out of the reach of a statute de haeretico comburendo, A few years of unmitigated priestly rule—of the tyranny of Romish ecclesiastics with power of confiscation, fire, and ay FS confidently expected to foment that wholesome exanthem, the iderated measies—that is to say, —— an Irish Keformation ‘. and rt — from a point m civilisation corresponding to the age of Queen EizaperH, regene- rated Ireland will be enabled to follow the rest of Hex Masestr’s dominions in the path of progress at the respectful distance of three centuries

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112 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVAR! AULD LAING SYNE, Suovtp dividends be a’ forgot Improvements whilst we mind, And dinna recollect what ’s what, And the days of auld Latxc syne ? For auld Laine syne, my friend, For auld LatnG syne: We’ |! just gang in for Five per cent., And auld Laine syne. We twa ha’ play’d wi’ shares and ec:!:, When Bubble days were prime, And made in Capel Court a hit, By auld Laine syne. For auld Laine syne, &c. And sure for your part ye’ll nae stoop, As sure I wou’t for mine, To gie a bawbee profit up, And auld Larxe syne. For auld Laue syne, &c. Now here’s a hand, my trusty friend, And gie’s that leg o’ thine; We'll hae more Railway Members yet, If we haud by auld Laise sync, &c. For auld Laine syne, &c. The Cloak of Religion. | Ie the Cloak of Religion is at all like the black, mise- | rable, funeral-looking article which we have seen certain bilious youths, as yellow as a Margate slipper, called Passionists, wear in Fleet Street, we can only say, that | it is, without exception, the ugliest cloak we ever saw, and | that we should be extremely sorry to wear it anywhere |—even at a Vauxhall masquerade ! | By the bye, if we were asked what the Cloak of Religion | was like, we should say it must be—“a CanpinaL!” ete ete a vata hem. ne A 2 eR | Lady of the House. “ Hoity torty, txpeEp! Go anD PUT UP THOSE Conis | ; : | DIRECTLY, 1f YOU PLEASE, How DARE YOU IMITATE ME IN THAT MANNER?| Tue Heicut or Paupence.—Buying an umbreila to be IMPERTINENCE!” | prepared against Loxp Marpstone’s Deluge. ears benders qt wet. enone 9 } ‘ ate tment nia cae | ils ?” said the young French Prince (before the Revolution, of course). : THE “AUGUST INFANT.” | “* Quelquefois, Monseigneur !” was the courtly reply. But we doubt if j | We were a good deal amused the other day by reading in the| Portuguese courtiers have any such esprit asthe French one had; and ? . | when our little august friend does cry for the moon, they will have to abe SS - _ poy ye lig Raper gor mal } — “cng —_ — a a —— as that the moon thanks - rr wo ne ne shi his Highness, but is detained by indisposition. announcement set us thinking, and thinking set us writing on this odd | “iy. lone and short of it, my dear Dow Joacuiu pe Fiuwxero, or 1 oti oe an page Se eee : paragraph. whoever you are, is—that i : , : a a e a ae , is—that you have been a little too pompous and non- H f eee nel ered en a oo han . | sensical this time! It is always your little states who do things in this 1 | an august infant then, and make its papa’s subjects laugh? Naughty | high-flown and ge i and 297 oom 4 oak joey ot } 4 | minister, would he call it a high and puissant poppet, and make wicked | ™Portant ones. These little ebullitions 7 =e ¢ © - + | Punch joke ?—Lullaby, darling!” much of the pages of Tac — whose Annals, by the by, comprise a he | But how dare one, yea, even in imagination, dandle the august | Court Circular” of no ordivary interest and instruction. AD | infant—the most high and dread baby in arms? Baby, indeed! This | : ——————— = 3 a | “young stranger” is no baby. Even while fresh and warm on his nurse’s | . " iz breast, he has forfeited his claim to the human simplicity of babyhood— Moore's Utopia. | and has become a thing for paragraphs and the foreign correspondent Receivine nine thousand pounds a year for being the istrar of Poor child, he must do his “ muling and puking” in the Court Circular! | the Prerogative Court of Canterbury ; three t pounds a year His “ birth” is not “a sleep and a forgetting,” indeed. No; the| more for being a Canon somewhere; and something like a thousand “soul that rises with him—his life’s star” already claims the title of pounds a year more for some nice little rec‘ories in the country ; august. To be sure, it scarcely asserts itself yet; but all with due | —making altogether upwards of TuiatezN THouaaND Pouwps a Yzar ceremonious order. At present, it is incog, and waives its native | for duing nothing! ‘hat is what we call a very pretty realisation of functions, but it is “ august,” of course, all the while. “ Moorz’s Utopia!” We can scarcely fancy, by the way, how the dignity attaching to an | august pee yy ry ——_ the ek babyhood. ; Of | course, the august infant is on roy p, wrapped in imperial long | — . F 24s clothes, protected by an illustrious bib, aa sucks a serene thumb. All| , 17 is Said that the Government contemplate the cr —- of the this we understand ; but, for instance, will the officials comport them-| pert on Policies of Assurance. This © his Lik omy —_ 7 selves wah such reverence as the bulletin happily expresses? Can one — tear stimulate a man to insure his life under a dim fancy the nurse chirping out,— . eee Ba 5 oy 5 siieemnerenenrtora dave 5. a rencadigins vs: ee ey ee ee re oe me Ses eens: PARADOX IN POLITICAL ECONOMY. Sie en At Portugal's top ; r : 4 — Pe ah, | We take this from the 7imes: | The cradle shall rock ? “The Caawnceitor or Tre Excueqver acknowledges the receipt of the halves of two notes for £200, on account of a deot long due to the nation.” We shall be happy, if needful, to supply properly respectfal rhymes! This jest bas gone quite far enough. As the people have made good to soothe the awful infancy of this youngster. But what is to be done, | so much to the Exchequer, when will the Exchequer return something, | if he seriously takes to crying for the moon? “ Quoi! des rois meurent-| “on account of a debt long due,” to the people ? | ED “ Hush, august baby, | Only a Fair Question. |

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| was desirable to place all on a level: and, whatever might be thought | of the broad gauge or narrow gauge, to adopt one universal gauge of should not be sati: fied till Railway proprietors enjoyed the same freedom RAILWAY UNIVERSAL AMALGAMATED. A Gewerat Meetine of Railway share- holders was held yesterday at the Calipash Tavern, to take into con- sideration a proposal for the amalgamation of all the Companies, with a view to putting a stop to competition between any of them: Ma. Swices in the chair. The requisition convening the ww BL then read. It called briefly but emphatically on all per- sons whose capital was invested in Railway undertakings, to combine for the maintenance and augmenta- tion of their dividends against an exacting Public. The Cuarnmaw moved a resolu- tion pledging the meeting to devote ites utmost energies to effect that union, which would render the : holdersof Railway property imde- pendent, by exempting them from popular control. (Hear.) It was through competition alone that they were subjected to such slavery. Where two rival limes existed, the public would naturally that which excelled in punctuality, expedition, safety, and atten (Hear.) In the contest for ngers, each Company was con- tinually obliging the other to take om additional hands, engage higher skill, institute stricter precautions, execute fresh repairs, provide new machinery—in other words, incur frightful expense for the of avoiding trivial accidents—which would occur (Hear)—and sacrifice the highest considerations of profit to foreign requirements of comfort and convenience (Hear)—whieh were never sati:fied (Hear, hear). In cases where no direct rivalry existed, persons travelling merely for recreation were nevertheless determined in their choice of locality by the superior attractions of the Railway lines m certain directions. It accommodation and expenditure, which he was sure all present would agree with him—the representatives of the public press (Hisses) excepted—should be of the very narrowest deseription (Cheers). Ma. Jarvoice hoped to witness the speedy establishment of a Railway Conveyance Association for mutual defence. He of action as those of omnibusses and cabs, in not being obliged to furnish a higher class of servants than those gentlemen. Union— which was strength—would enable them to hire the cheapest engineers, PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. INTELLIGENCE, 113 | tion would tend to diminish accidents, by enabling them to treat with | total disregard all demands for s and leaving them at liberty to ‘take their own time. (Hear, hear.) economy of life and limb was economy in damages— therefore to be considered. By uniting—by opposing a firm front—a front of brass— agitation, they would be empowered to hold their t—and defy every- e resolution having been carried by acc'amation, and a vote of thanks to the Cuarmman passed nem. com., the worthy gentlemen THE MAN WHO OUGHT NOT TO EMIGRATE. Taz man who cannot shave without hot water, or pull off his boots | wi a ; the man who cannot get up without a glass of ale in the morning, or go to bed without a “ wed lobster,” or ‘devilled bomes ; the man who has never carried anything heavier than et ng ye ee ee beard ; the man whose only | sowing been limited to wild oats, and his only reaping to | Etsew Bere cutting twice a year his corns; the man has never handed any other bill but # taior’s, and only knows what a spade is by i 2 sok Cais SP ae ine aay peuen of oa ing” bas derived from the race-course, and of “ harrowing ”’ mae tage Fey Ey tC oe somet n, upon as “crea‘ures t peer Pod pec eS pf eh the man who imagines a bull walxs on two like those he has seen on the Stock Exchange, and whose skill in ting has been restrieted to a few sho’s at the moon; the man wee supey Easie © bank aS 9. Sa Stas Saemn ie eres at a rowge-ct-noir table; the man whose ing in society has alwa en upon the very best polished leather boots, and whose longest ik in life has been through the Insolvent Debtor’s Court; the man who has never known what it is to earn a dinner, or to enjoy one without French wines; the man who would think himself degraded if he was seen carrying a parcel :— such a man ofall others ought not to emigrate, Better far for him to lounge and loll on sofas, and lisp, and smoke, and yawn, ina — that can appreciate him, doing as bender work than digging occasionally in the morning papers, or in the gold distric's of his mother’s pocket, than to carry those same qualities to a distant land where they would only be thrown away, like early pur! before quakers. Such a man, we repeat it, ought to be the very last in England to emigrate ! DEVASTATION FROM THE CLOUDS! By the tremendous thunderstorms that occurred some weeks —y' considerable damage had been done to the crops, when a few days genial sunshine, unely succeeding, reassured the faint heart of stokers, porters, they could get (Hear): character and all that humbug no object (Hear, hear): and as for guards—why, they might have any blackguards, (Laughter and cheers.) In fact, they might get most of! their servants for nothing, oy passengers ; and he hoped, for his part, to see the day when a gentle-| man or a lady would be followed along the platform by a porter touching | his hat (Hear)—yes, and if that wouldn't do, raising his voice—why not, as well as a common cabman in the street? (Hear) and, at the same time, they could dispense with the services of policemen altogether. (Loud cries of Hear.) Mr. SLANGER cordially concurred in the sentiments of the preeeding speaker. He should like also to hear the money-takers at the stations, when the fares were tendered to them, say, “ What’s this?” “What’s this ere for ?”’—and so on, like the cabbies, trying to get the passengers to give more than the authorised demand—the wages of those officials to consist in the extras thus “> “y- would be a vast saving. (Hear, hear.) Their clerks and such like cost a deal too much—he | wished to see what he supposed he must call their civil establishment put on quite a different footing. (Cheers) Mr. Scxewatt said that the existing competition exercised a most injuricus infinence on the construction of second and third-class carriages, which otherwise might be so arranged as greatly to increase the resort to the first class. Carriages of the second class might be lined (Oh, oh /) with hedgehog skins (Hear) ; and their roofs removed to let m the wet (Hear, hear); and in third-class carriages they might, together with passengers, convey pigs. (Much cheering). rn. GraBsins would remind the meeting of the bundle of sticks in the fable, and sug: that they should resolve themselves into a fagot, which would resist the united strength of the newspapers and the nation. The advantages of combination might briefly be summed up in maximum fares and minimum outlay; and if they would but put their engines together, they might go on indefinite'y raising the former | and lowering the latter. (Hear.) They were not there to consider the Public (Hear), but themselves; still he might observe, that amalgama- allowing them to receive gratuities from | the Sennng agriculturist by a promise which, as regards the harvest y, bas not failed. But in the districts about the met lis the which spoke thus smilingly to the husbandman has, alas! only “told a flattering tale.” The showers and thunderbolts had no sooner ceared to be hurled on their fields of eorn from an angry sky, than they were visited from the same quarter by a plague still more destructive than cats, dogs, and electric fluid altogether. In the midst of their ripe ears, now here, now there, always somewhere every evening of late, down has come a Balloon: with horse perhaps, end also ass, attached, the latter riding the former, being biped ; or with ass alone, hanging by his heels. ‘ he havoc which has resulted has been frightful. A single donkey would do more than su damage in a wheat-field; but a donkey to a balloon, uf course does incalculably more. In addition to the ravages made by the whole asinine arrangement, there is also the ruination that has been occasioned by the “Great Attraction” of a Balloon descending in a populous neighbourhood. aéronaut makes many of that class of persons, who resemble the intrep d séronaut in the quality which is the basis cf his intrepidity : these all flock the fruits of guano concourse of boobies. Heroes in Blue. A. 100, writing im the Times, auimadverts on a report that certain of the Liverpool Police are to be decorated with medals and bars, accord to their length of service. Why not, as well as soldiers? Vach o them who has seen any length of service is the hero of # bundred fights with hordes of savages infinitely more dangerous than the (affres: the ruffians of the Liverpool Irishry ; and if the veteran is to be decorated who fought at Waterloo, surely he deserves at least as great an honour who has enemies of whom it may be said that one irishman is equal—in feroeity at |east—to three Frenchmen. It was the pace that killed; and | eir own (Hear, hear)—against all opposi- | One intrepid | her te see bim alight, and the consequence is, that | and industry are trampled beneath the feet of a |

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il4 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL | THE AMERICAN EAGLE SUPERSEDED. | Brorwer JowaTnaw t to make the Sea Serpent do the same duty for him—vice Eagle— “chat the Lion does for Joaw Buu. The monstrous ophidian of the deep would be the | fittest emblem of the gentleman who, after his | late gulp of cod-fish, has been trying to bolt the | Lobos Inands—guano and all. Moreover, = wo the more remarkable, inasmu | —_ who did not know JowaTuan would never believe there could be such a fellow. hs cy emeahaen Steg ental hits EIS" I Ree (Rec Clee eee oe, | “ Wuy, WHaT’s THE MATTER WITH Tommy ?” “Boo! Hoo! I’ve cut my Frvegr with Avuyt’s Scissors.” “Taat’s A GooD BOY! ALWAYS SPEAK THE TauTH!” AWFUL CASE OF SMUGGLING. From the How, Miss ——, Maid of Honour on duty, to Lavy ——, in t the Highlands. “On, mydear! You wil/ be shocked to know that the yacht, the dear Victoria and Albert, has been caught smuggling! And only to think, tobacco—filthy to ! Frrz, as Captam, is in such a way! Talked of court-martials and I don’t know what; and to be sure it was enough to put the dear soul in a pucker—(and you know what a good- tempered creature it always is ; and how kind and considerate when the wind blows ')}—but it was enough to vex a saint, if he was t-captain to have the Custom-house officers board us, and rummage from one en to the other the Royal yacht. I’m told it was quite shocking; and that Frvz’s good-tempered face went blue and red, and pink and yellow, and all colours like a dying dolphin, to see the coarse, uncivil revenue men—the disloyal creatures, I call ’em!—rolling about everything in the cabin, and, as the newspapers this time truly say, ‘even the most private apartments’—tumbling about like porpoises among the billows ! “ Well, I almost faint to write it, but 80 pounds of filthy tobacco were absolutely seized on of us. , It’s a wonder that Frrz didn’t draw his regulation sword, and cut off somebody’s head—eighty pounds, my dear; and there was a talk of forfeiting the dear yacht, with all on board of her. “ Smuggling is, no doubt, very bad, and very disloyal under the circumstances ; but to be found out is shocking. But then, how’s it to be wondered at? Men, who call themselves the lords of the creation—men, who know everything—are, I must say it, the merest babies at smuggling. “Would you think it, my dear! The foolish fellows—I mean the andacious criminals—went about Antw buying tobacco by the hundredweight in broad open daylight. py Bm J of pounds of the nauseous weed were sold over the counter—positively over the counter —to our brave crew, that is, to our hardened offenders! And what was the consequence ? Why, some spiteful, misebief-making person wrote to the Queen’s Customs in England, telling ’em how Her Maszsty was cheated by her own sailors, and so we had no sooner arrived—the anchor was hardly cold in the water off Osborne, before the revenue officers boarded us, and began to rummage. I’m told they even searched Firz’s tin cocked-hat case, but mercifully found nothing in it. The dear little midshipmen, too, were overhauled—I believe that is the expression—but came safely through the fiery furnace. But when the “THE PRINCES OF THE PEOPLE.” “We are the Princes of the People,” said Jerome Bowararte a few days ago to the people of Brest. “We are the King of the Frogs,” said the stork ; and then he swallowed a couple of his subjects to prove his royalty. Assessment made Easy. |. Te difficulty in the way of the equitable ad- justment of the Income-Tax has only to be known. It consists in the real and pe possessions of noble lords and honourable gentile- men, who, if their estates were immediately con- fiscated, and themselves obliged to get their own living, would soon enough discover how to tax uncertain earnings in proportion to fixed property. SPORTING INTELLIGENCE, Mr. Beyxsamin Dispaztt has been offered an extremely liberal engagement by the pro- prietors of Beil’s Life, if he will undertake the rophesying department of that paper as “A loouas or THE FurTuRgE.” officers at last fell upon the Se egw | pounds of tobacco—dear —imn Fitz was in such a way that he sai very strong language— he ’d run somebody up at the fore-yard ; which happily he didn’t. “ However, there’s to be a court-martial on board the Victory ; and we are al), without any reserve whatever, to be examined. Of course this can’t affect the innocent; nevertheless it is vexing; although, between ourselves, his dear little R—. H—Gu—s has had a joke upon it. “* Pa,” said he, seeing the P—z about to light a cigar—‘ Pa,” said the sweet little fellow, “have you paid Mamma’s duty for that?” Wasn't that good ? Well, I won’t tell you who laughed the loudest ; but though vexed she did laugh. “Still, the discovery is annoying, because—because it might have been prevented. But to smuggle in such an open, audacious, sinful, and disloyal manner! When of course every motion of the gallant crew is watched ashore! To buy five thousand pounds of tobacco—as much as that, my dear, I’m told; quite—in open day. What could be expected ? But men are such simpletons ! “Now, my dear, let us suppose that instead of nasty tobacco bought at Antwerp it had been some darling Brussels lace; and suppose that somebody that both fyou and I know had only wished for a little Mechiin point—I do think that the purchase would have been made with a reserve that would have proved how much we respected the yacht of our royal mistress ; but men—I am sorry to be compelled to write it—men have no delicacy. | “ Well, [do envy you in the High/ands; but it is always my luck. We've had such weather. They tell me, though I was too ill to see ‘em, they tell me it blew great guns. Any way we heard 'em! Between | ourselves, I was a couple of days before I could hear myself speak— isn’t that dreadful? But we were fired at—they call it saluting—from Osborne to Antwerp, and from Antwerp to Osborne back again. Had we all been shot out of guns, we couldn’t have felt more of the noise and the smother. I never was in all my days so powdered ! “ Good bye, Yours affectionately, “ P.S. Between ourselves, it was lucky I got ashore before the Custom- house officers began their search. I won't tell you how very mueb it would have annoyed me to witness their insolence. But on all that, for the present, 1’ll drop a veil.” Party Cotours.—The colours at most of the Irish Elections were black and blue—worn principally on the legs and arms of the contending parties. onted i William Bradbury, of Ne. 13, Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, and Gee in bard Street, im tne Preciact of Whitefriars Mallert Evana, of No. 7,Churen Row, im the City of Lendoa, and “ubdlished oy tnem at No, %, Fleet Street,in the Parish of St. Newingten, both in the of Middlesex, Printers, at cthetr ‘stm the City of Mee te Surreusse ith, 1852.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 5 ll WALKING THE RAILWAYS. TO MEDICAL STUDENTS, PARENTS, AND GUARDIANS. HE Directors of the Great North Southern and Kast Western Railway, have the honour to announce that they have now completed arrange- ments for establishing a Scnoot of Suncery, the Wurrer Szssion of which will commence, simulta- neously with the Lecrungs | at the several Hosprra ts, | on Friday October lst. It is | | unnecessary to point out the peculiar advantages which | } this Establishment offers to | the Student in affording him | a Fretp of Osservation and Exrertexce in Frac- tures and DisLocarions, which it would be impos- sible for him to find else- where, except, perhaps, in Actual Warfare. An In firm containing a Hun- DaeD Bens has been fitted up at all the principal stations, where the CaritaL Opgrations of Surgery, as well as those of a minor descrip- tion, will be performed, and Cunsican Lecrunes given, by the Most Eminent SvrGceons. Terms :—Apmission, for the Szason, £10 10s, Perpetual £21. *.” No additional fee demanded for entrance to the SCHOOL OF ANATOMY, which, constantly supplied by the Secowp and Turrp-Cxass Trains’ affords PecuLiaR Asunpant Faciiities for that Stupy. MISS VIOLET ANDO HER “ OFFERS.” —_—~—— CHAPTER XVII. I cenTaDNLy will persuade my dear Aunty Ratcuet to go out to the Diggi before she gets me into any more disagrecablenesses. Those Grrrmnesgs again ! fi know that everything has its use in the order of nature, but I do not understand what Girrincses are for. Papa sent us into the City, in the brougham, that we might leave some papers, which he said were important, at the Fireside and Circum- navigating Life Assurance Office. ving left them, Aunty must needs go to Bracn’s for a “ warm jelly,” which she has an old world convic- tion can be got nowhere else in London. While she was enjoying her jeily (which I thought was a little out of season on a hot day in August), [ was am at seeing dreadfully stern old men, great, huge, Scotch merchants, keen-eyed stock-brokers, and all kinds of pushing and over- b people, y ccming in and darting at penny tarts, like and looking greedily at what others were eating. . L will be flopjisticated,” cried a loud, laughing voice behind me. And I, and Soived qnenphety in the shop, turned to see what sort of an operation was going to be performed. To my dismay, a little round red man, in a blue coat and brass buttons, and such a flaming waistcoat, his way up to Aunty. “ Mas. TCHET come into the City again! Wonders will never cease.” And he added something about a sight of Aunt being service- able in an op ia case. “ Luckiest chance in the world,” he went on. “I’d’a given a tenner | rather than not have looked in here. You know the gal’s married, our | Mrc—spliced to Sam Pornt ?”’ ee Vioet, my dear,” said Aunt, looking at me, “Do you hear| t ” “O, this is VioLet my dear, is it?” said the gentleman, who of course | was Mr. Girrmes of Rotherhithe. “I’ve heard of Miss Vioer, rather,” and he looked elaborately sly. “So have some other folks—a certain crow was plucked a many times with Master Sam, I can tell Pa Tried to take the wind out of Mzo’s sails a little, eh? Well, | all fair among girls—no harm done—she only laughs at it now.” » I, Viotzt Brompron—accused of trying to supplant Muss/| ManGanet Girrryes in the affections of Mz. Samuzi Port ! Was| not I a good girl not to flash my eyes at him, but to answer civilly, and | other young ladies called a sincerely to hear that the wedding had taken place? Mas I not a good I keep asking ? “ Well, that’s said very kindly, and I am sure sincerely,” answered | Mr. Grrtmes. “And to show it is sincere, we'll all go up and see Meg. It’s close by, in a street just out of Finsbury Circus. I know she’s in, and she’ll take it deuced kind.” “I should like to see her now she’s settled,” said dear Aunty, who has all an old “woman’s funny hankering to examine a young | woman’s ménage. What was to say? We went to pay the wedding | visit. We found Mus. Sam Pornr in a comfortable litile house, in which | everything looked new and showy, and as the blinds were drawn up to | the very top, and the curtains ww back almost into ropes, we had the full sunlight upon each arti But Marcaret’s red cheeks defied | the s and she looked as petulant and self-willed as ever. Stiff, | cheap portraits of Mn. and Mus. Poryr (he in the celebrated red cravat, | and she in red satin, with two colossal brooches) already stared from | the wall. She received me very graciously—I really believe she thought | that there had been a /uéée, and that she was victor. Wine and cake | were banded and Aunty Racuet made a little set speech, wishing the young couple (Mn. Sam was absent) “all the happiness they could wish for emcien.” And, as it seemed to be expected, I ventured a humble echo of Aunty. “ Bears no malice, you see, Mea,” said the abominable Mn. Girrinos. I was not so sure of the fact, at that moment. Several came in, and they were all introduced to us, Three | or four gi rather pretty, were am them, but they were difficult to talk to, being a little clique, and w one made the commonest observation, they would look at one another, and laugh, as if one’s words reminded them of some secret joke. And they talked a good | deal among themselves about certain Toms and Jouns, and were generally mysterious. At last, Ma. Ferpinanp Swink was announced, and his name created a sensation. Miss Jauvis (I think) seized Miss | BowkeR (I think) by the arm, squeezed her, and made a face like that | of a child when it intends to denote extreme ecstacy. “ Clever young man, pleasing writer, very superior person,” said one | of the elder ladies. “Not a bit,” cried Miss Jarvis, “he’s good for nothing. Now Fern. | DINAND,” she exclaimed, as the gentleman entered, “ | have been abusing | you, so come and sit on this footstool by me, and defend yourself.” “Worth while, I should say, qnusidesion my assailant,” returned Mr. cory He looked hard at me as a new member of the circle, and then at Mus, Samuxzt for an introduction. But she did not respond. I fancied I saw one of girls make a sign to her not to do so, Ma, Swink, however—rather a -looking person, over-dressed, and with a familiar manner, which I suppose passes in his world for | careless case—was not to be di fited. “| like to know everybody, Mrs. Pour. Will you introduce me?” | “Ma. Swink, Miss Baomurton,” said Mancaret, with the worst grace in the world. : c words,” raid Mu. Swink, ing himself heavily upon the | sofa close by me, and leaning himself k. “The Open Sesame of “—— Now, zirls, what have you got to say to amuse me?” “ Well, I never!” said Miss Jaavis. “ Why don’t you amuse us? | What have you been writing lately, you idle creature ?’ “ Nothing you would rstand,” reolied the courteous author. said, with great politeness, re fad on Og goes that, next you, Miss Viougt,” said Ma. Girrinas, | department —” «May I ask in what | “ There,” snapped Miss Jarvis, “ you ser, Miss Brompton has never even heard of your name. I always told you that you never wrote, except for rubbishing magazines that nobody reads.” The author looked so sincerely annoyed at this smart sally, that 1 determined to relieve him. “So many of our best writers are anonymous,” | suggested; | “new and iodicals employing so much talent, that one | may be ignorant 0 the name of an author to whom one is constantly | inde “Just so,” said Mn. Swink, catching at the idea. “And,” he | added, confidentially, “one does not always think it necessary to mention ever one does.” “O, of course,” said Miss Janvis, “ now that notion is put into his | head, he will go about hinting Vat he writes the whole of the Times | every morning before breakfast.” This style of seemed ular, and we had a good deal more Scio Redh-taptuahs ton taal bor sxramoeted to deems Se itt! j fought too or me to discover, for the first time in his life, that there must be circles in which people can talk without snapping at one another’s words, and “ catching one a He made not the slightest scruple of affording his friends the benefit of his discovery, by no means softened the mode of conveying it. 3 “ By Jove!” he said, when Miss Janvis had given him what the i set down. “ What a blessing it is to indeed laughing, that there was some little mistake, and that | was|hear somebody speak without trying to be witty. Miss Baomrron, VOL, XXIII. N

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tee

116 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL

whom is never ry before, hes ‘talked more sense in heeniner than you girls in all your lives.” Pte 5 praise 7. Miss Viowet,” said Ma. Girtmes. “ You 0 t to be The new face always has Aim, We know him,” remarked Miss JARVIS. “You talk disgusting nonsense,” replied the author, getting very red, and quite forgetting any good manners he might ever have had. The girls quite screamed. “ There’s earnestness,” cried Miss Bowkur. “The young lady has made an impression, that ’s clear; and had better prepare herself for | the worst.” | “ She might do much worse than listen to my friend Swivx,” said the premature Mx. Grrtrxcs. I suppose he thought he owed mea | belping band, in consequence of my losing Mrz. Pornt to Mancaner. “See how he colours up!” cried Miss Janvis. “ Why not make the offer at once, Fexprwawp? So famous a man as you has only to ask. What do you ch Mus. Pow?” ; “T dare say Miss Viower will give him every encouragement,” said Mancanret, spitefully. “What does Miss Brompton say to that?” asked Ma. Fenpr- | wawp, I really believe a great deal more in earnest than in joke. THE MANCHESTER CRUSADE.

“O, Miss Bromptow suune to tebe very good care whom she encourages—for the future,” was that young lady's y, given with a smile, ‘and the least look in the world at Mas. Samuz. out. She was in order for the test hint, and her red cheeks in- = up be oe bare umination. she sniffed me opt. “ they should be pre tat of cesta sh , “You used the first, Mus. Port,” said the ‘author, who began to take a tender interest in me, and would not see me ill-trented. “ I suppose I am at liberty to use word I .” retermed M M,neanrert, ie cheat, et Dito geess of Slee poly | on herself—made Mas. Samv2zt so fierce, that the séames became quite uncomfortable ; and I was so glad when “Aunty was quite satisfied with the immense amount of information she had elicited from the married — about their children’s : a forwardness, fat legay z- and willingness to take = [mee What in the world was Ma. Swix sent myn pe 4 Lae pape Geneon ae ft onvactios of thems d finally he dis the practice, and it to that tiresome old creature ? | married Miss Janvis.

ODE TO FATHER CAHILL ON HIS LAST EFFUSION.

RS. “ without being responsible to Mz. FsapmappSwixx’?” | she drew it | | UNCH is glad to see that) Manchester is astir again Manchester has begun a new. Crusade. The object of this Manchester New Crusade is to throw open to all oman poor pilgrims the Holy ad of Knowledge. It is expected that an enor- | mous number of captives, | enslaved by drunkenness, fe- rocity, pauperism, and other evils, will be delivered by the efforts of the Manchester | Crusaders. That distressed | damsels, now shirt-making in garrets, or elsewhere slaving on miserable terms, will be rescued or suecoured to an immense extent. And that the Manounp of Darkness and | Temmacaust of Ignorance | will be discomfited: so that | they shall no longer plunge be- | ted wayfarers in dungeons, | and lay them by the heels in durance, particularly vile, ¥ bulks and gaols. Saracens—foul Paynim—biack bands of enemies of, light of — “ denominations,” all comprehensible under the one “denomination” of bi charged by our Manchester chivalry with | lance of — quiil—pen, likewise, if possible, with an education rate—will | bite the dust More than one Goprasy—we may venture to say, of Buitroy, at least of what | amounts to the same thing, opulence—sev wealthy gentlemen, in short—have | placed themselves in the van of the expedition, by contributing to the funds thereof | in the handsomest manner. Cc , moreover, has—what is wonderful in | these days, especially when you consider what a Crusade it is—a real prelate among its preachers—Manchester’s Bishop. This Crusade has com in a rather different manner from that in which Peter the Hermit got up his. Its promoters do not go about flourishing crosses | and banners, ranting, raving, collecting mobs, and — obstructions in the street, but they meet in well-ordered assemblies, speechif. with gentle enthusiasm, draw forth no swords, but simply their purses ; fourth no weapons but those of good stump oratory. However, their zeal will bear a comparison with that of Perer’s most ardent recruits ; its contagion, indeed, has extended to the softer

My rabid, reverend, Farner Cant, What makes you rave, and rant, and rail So like a traitor ? Say, is it brandy, gin, or ale? Or is’t the “ crater?” What have the sons of ae 3 "a Done, to excite 5 aad Ss ut protes We ve Against your “ titles ;” you, ac" tat ile, All unmolested. I think [ know, abusive sire, What ’tis that so inflames your ire A gainst our nation, And drives you to evince such dire Exasperation. It is that we, my priestly boy, Such cool and temperate means employ To check your pinions, So that your Pops shail not enjoy The Queew’s dominions. You ‘re vex’d, because you want a cry Which we continue to deny With resolution ; And you can’t us—though you try— To persecution. You wish we ’d strike the kind of blow Which would enable you to show The heads and _ Of fellows like yourself, who’d For Popish msteun. Not we; but recolleet, the cowl Excuses not sedition foul : Listen to reason ; Be warn’d in time: and cease to howl So much like Treason !

The 50,000 Cures. sex, who attend their gatherings, lend the inspiring aid of looks and smiles to their design, and, in some cases, even give it the pak sebsnpios, e.. p=: advethanante a setts — Capen Ty Sen The Manchester New Crusaders broke ened on Thursday last by the opening relat ——. a a on 1 of an entrenchment against to be called the Manchester Free Library, b ted of its wonderf The oe ways headed wi whence a continued fire will be kept up upon the enemy in vollies of volumes | ‘¢ above number of cures. number | —not one more, not one less.

B 2. 3 $ g SE

ratuitously distributed by loan; or, if he prefer coming to close quarters, where | fe will be received by a fixed array ‘of authors of tried prowess, who will astonish | ‘ne "or 5,000, ‘oon, if A. mee 7 tose ha been or — hie ty ticipati ted to all who will oe the trath of it: but that the Cures have not n indulgence in anticipations is persons puting vin or asst the Manchester New Crusae agunstTzaorance | This is lows ut we can onl infer that qed tat a StS= — “period the medicine has not worked a a i nay it would have been added to the y recorded. A Question upon wich Hanes a Five.—Whether Ma. Barn at the Hippe-| It is not often one meets with so oy honesty in a quack drome has taken out a Hawker’s License ? advertisement !

|

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. THE DUKE OF YORK’S COLUMN. A Column erected to all matiers relating to Debt.) Ir is very strange! there are some creditors who are always unlucky — they always call a day too late! If they had but called yesterday, they might have had their money. There are many men, who, as they pay one debt, invariably contract another—in the same way that tinkers never patch up a hole in a kettle, without leaving another one behind it. One of the French words for a bill is M4moire. This title of Mémoire, however, would suit many dishonest tradesmen, who, not content with collect- ing a debt once, actually try to re-colleet it. The ancients raised pyramids; in the Middle Ages our ancestors raised cathedrals; but in modern times it would be difficult to say what we raise, unless it is the wind. If States were made to answer for their debts in the same way as private individuals, there ’s many a kingdom that would be in the Insolvent Debtors’ Court at the present moment. A man begins finding out faults that he was blind to before he borrowed your money. We are often asked, “ What’s in friendship but a name?” Yes, but it’s a name that friend- ship is frequently called upon to put on the back of a bill. A bill is described in dictionaries as “A sharp instrument, with a wooden handle.” The sharp instrument, we suppose, is the man who cuts off with the money, and the “ wooden handle,” we slightly imagine, is the man who holds the bill. In fashionable life, the men most run after are the men deepest in debt. Debts grow the fastest, like artificial mushrooms, when kept quite dark; and this is the reason why tradesmen will never send in their bills, The French word for a receipt is reconnaissance. There’s deep satire in this word—satire fully accounting for the little gratitude there is to be met with in this world! The house in the street at whose door you hear the most knocks, is generally the house that owes the most. England is bound down so heavily to keep the peace, that she cannot afford to recover the payment of her just debts, The man who has mortgaged all his property is a slave who walks about in Bonds. If a gentleman refuses to repay what he has borrowed, it is called Swindling; but if a State refuses the same thing, it is called “ Repudiation.” A man can often tell you how much he has, | when he would be terribly puzzled to tel) you how | much he owes, The Money Market is occasionally cleaned out, when a little whitewash makes it all sweet again. The abundance of chalk in England’s cliffs for- tunately enables her to write up the many loans and | debts that are owing to her by Chili, Mexico, | Spain, Columbia, Peru, Portugal, and almost every | insolvent State (not forgetting the State of Penn- sylvamia) in the world. | In modern mythology, the Three Graces are L. 8. D.—the Three Furies, I. 0. V. A poor creditor calls the Duke of York’s statue | “The Statute of Limitations,” for ever since it | has been erected, it seems to have entirely cancelled | his debts. Credit is one great advantage which the rich have | over the poor, for running into debt. One of the slang words for money is “ ready,” but there is a very wide difference, as creditors can | tell you, between “ ready” and “ ready money.” A Mortgage-deed sounds quite grand ; but it is nothing more than a Duplicate. Patience is described as “sitting upon a monu- ment, smiling at grief.” The monument, then, should be one like the Duxs or Youx’s, and she should be smiling at the “grief” of the creditors waiting below to be paid. The Duxe or Yorx’s principal military exploit was a rapid retreat, in which the greater part of the British Army was left behind. ‘This was not the only honourable instance of his leaving thousands in a-rear; and we suppese the Column in Waterloo Place was erected to commemorate The Bull in the Sky. Tue last flight of aéronautical folly—according to a letter in the Times—was that of Mapame Porrevin astride on a Bull. It has been 8 ted that the Bull thus elevated into the sky, might have been ounded yi observers with the original em the sign of = Zodiac a — oe a Bull figuring in the a not possi ve mistaken for any sign but the sign of the folly of the rider, and her admirers. SPORTING INTELLIGENCE. Tue Koh-i-noor is still continuing its quiet little rubber with the sterdam. gentlemen from Am The finish is not yet known, but the game is said to depend now upon one point merely—whether the Koh-i-noor at the next cut turns up a Diamond or not. ‘There is more than a million dependant upon the result. _ Two French chemists have been trying experiments with the poison of the toad. It would be interesting to send them Da. Caniut’s letter to Lomp Deasy, to see what amount of they could extract from it, and how virulent it would be. We have no doubt that eee of it was put on a sparrow (a Protestant sparrow), that it |W y. NURSERY LEseON. *Two interesting children were amusing themselves—in childish fashion—by “ playing at railways.” “What do you call Loco- | motive?” says Tom. “ Carelessness,” replies Hanny. “ What’s the name of yours?” “Collision!” Parnioric Fisnine Sentiment.—lf England would keep her laurels, she must Preserve her bays.

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aametineeegien f é

She NA ik gain. iS ANB Oe an speculation that would have enriched him to an extent beyond the | as in that case the whole house runs an imminent risk of being smash i? PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL

Contemplative Man (in punt). “1 pox’? so MUCH Cake ABOUT THE Sport, IT’s THE DELICIous Repose I ENJor 80.” , . » MID .AMmwe Ororor dreams of Hupsow! For the sake of mankind, however, I must confess PEARLS OF THE PREROGATIVE COURT. that he ought no longer to withhold from us these precious homilies, To the Editor of Puxcn | which, flowing from his lips at the rate of £250 each, must have abso- | “Sip lutely gilé them: rendered him positively a modern Gotpmoutm or “Your known love of fair play will, I am sure, allow me to} deprecate the very indelicate details which have lately been published in reference to the income of the Reverenp Mr. Moore, the Registrar | of the Prerogative Court, and the holder of diversified preferment in | the Church. We all sufficiently know the value of this gentleman; and | [ am convinced that his modesty must have been severely pained by all those public demonstrations of his great worth. I beg more particularly . offer a sous te - ae sofenente ee by a writer in so Times, signing himself “ Mzmor.” R. Moone is stated by this) 410+ they o1 o sat extremely explicit person to have occupied, for the last forty-eight os } allel PL. wel re de Pe 7 = of such years, a stall in Canterbury cathedral, of the value of £1,000 a year; so| « In conelusion, Sir, let me observe that perpetual allusions to Mr. that, during the above period, he has thus received £48,000. Memon} Moore’s opulence may very possibly entail un t consequences on —whom in point of refinement I should rather term Immezmon—then |); They have already camel him the world-wide reputation of enters into a rough, indeed, a coarse, calculation, to the effect that | i hahiting an Ophir, a California, a Garden of the Hesperides. In the Mr. Moore has, in the course of his life, preached about 4 times 458, | not improbable event of a French invasion, the first = the enemy or 48 times 4, sermons, for the last-mentioned sum. Now, 4 times 48 : : certain} sermons are 192; and 192 sermons at £48,000 are £250 per sermon. | a Lame ac might be the Bank ; but the next would y Of course it is the vulgar intention of Memon to insinuate that this “ . figure is too high—that Mr. Moone has, in fact, been receiving very Or never believe me to be, &c., &e., much for doing very little. But, Sir, what if a totally different aspect | of the case be the correct view? How, if each of Mn. Moors’s | anaes 8 worth £250, oe XY delivery? Surely, — A Defence for the Derbyites. we consider t igh remuneration acco: to an opera-singer for a + . : single performance, and the relative importance of the stage and the | =e 9 y Hy Lge me the — ‘ethngye one gn > pulpit, we must admit that a sermon deserves a liberal pecuniary | ae pee, Ay. i thet the Gov : = reward, if it deserves any. Now I, for my own part, would venture to| PY " | bes. sugges 5 anteniel ~ me = erga infer from the circumstances just adverted to, that Mx. Moone is a} ) yy Hee = “he bas ona ae ae — gentleman of extraordinary self-denial. He has been preaching | <0 wee | od aii te y sermons to the number of 192, which, merely to hear, were worth £250 | ** ¥ pas OF a8 Long a8 possilic. a-piece ; yet he has never published these valuable discourses ! . : . “The profits that vould have accrued to him from their sale would} Cavtioy ror tux Couwtiye-Hovss.—It is B -pemne unadvisable have been enormous—nevertheless he has foregone a safe and legitimate | for the partners of any mercantile firm to travel by railwa valued at about eightpence the spoken word : such words, copyright, in cast before swine, their proceeds would enable the author to endow | and schools. ile ny, Puito-Prosate.” 4 z= Curysostom. At a moderate computation, a sermon at £250 might be | type, are gems, and might be issued from the press under the title of | * Pearls of Great Price.” Unless the oo should prove to have been | several colonial bishoprics, and build an indefinite number of churches | | “It may be urged that four sermons ina year are not many; but | when it is remembered that their value is 1000/, it will be admitted

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~~ | RAILWAY AMALGAMATION—A PLEASANT STATE OF THINGS, Passenger. “ Waat’s tus Matter, Guarp?” Guard (with presence of Mind). “On, sovatsG particvLaR, Six. We’ve owty run mto aw Excursion Tran!” Passenger. “ But, Goop Gracious! THERKE’s A TRAIN JUST BEHIND US, Isw’T THERE?” Guard. “Yzs, Six! But a Bor BAS GONE DOWN THE LINE WITH A SIGNAL; aWD IT’s VERY LIKELY THEY'LL sez IT!” Sertewser 1], 1852.

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| If at the Foreign Office, now, we had but | Complaints to him are little more than | And so I PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. “NEWS FROM VERONA!” (Vide Times, August 30, 1352.) E simple lish travellers, who rave of Sp sunny italy, , - And long to see the many gems that in her every city lie, Take warning by my hapless fate, lest, by a like mishap, you let Yourselves be caught, as I was, in the city of the Capulet. | For in Verona recently, I chanced | awhile to tarry, Sirs ! And there, while sketching quietly the Porta de Borsari, Sirs ! “ Spiatore!” said a voice bebind ; and, looking o’er my shoulder, I Beheld myself surrounded by a troop of “Spy a Tory! that - don’t, my | friends,” said I,“ for [’ma Liberal!” | But, bless you! at the word they soon | began to rave and gibber all ; | [ cannot sketch in company, and strove from them to clear myself, Which made them sabhen more and e more, till [could searcely hear myself. One swarthy fellow seized the chalks I bought in town of AckERMaN ; My drawing-book, with all its “ bits,” was collared by a blacker man ; They took me to their officer, and, in a mighty tiff, he sent Me off to muse in prison om “ Verona the Magnificent !” They put me in the common cell, damp, filthy, dark, and dreary, Sir! They gave me n te eat or drink, though was faint and weary, Sir! They xept me in the dirt all night to study En y alge hte anc ry hy mer pee And though they’ve not the slightest right a Briton to oppress at all, From ne’er a fellow in the place could | obtain redress at all ; Though SHAKSPRARB wrote about the town, he never could have known her, Man! For you couldn’t find “ 7wo Gentlemen” to-day in all Verona, Man! good Lonp PaLMzRstos, blustering Austrian officer would soon be forced to calm bis tone ; Bat MaLmwespury, in jobs like these so wofully miscarries, Sir ! complaints to Mrs, Harris, Sir! pocket up my wrongs, and strive to take them coolly, yet I’m sure whene’er I look again on Romeo and Juliet, When poor Verona’s civil strife Mercutio’s wrath arouses, Man ! USE FOR UNION WORKHOUSES. | Ir will soon become a question what to do with the Union Work-| houses throughout the country, if, as is the case in Dorsetshire, | agricultural labourers, generally, get paid at the rate of 3s. 6d. a day | md a gallon of beer. These institutions—these, at any rate—seem | likely to be ruined by Free Trade. | had better, perhaps, be converted into Assembly Rooms, | returning days of Merry England in the olden Maypoles, yet Maypoles, in a changeful climate, facilities for merrymaking which will be required | likely that every village will want its ball-room ; a reasonable ——— will sufficient for each union of parishes; and there are Ww ouses ready to the peoples’ hands | Who Wants Whiskers? Iy an advertisement commencing with the tender inquiry, “ Do you want luxuriant hair!” we find the following testimonial :-— “ I have now a full pair of whiskers. Send me another pot. Mavsor Hurros.” What! another pot of whiskers? Now, we have heard of Potted Hare, and several other luxuries that are potted, but we never recollect hearing of Potted Whiskers ! THE RESULT OF GOOD LIVING. _ We wonder Mz. Moonrr is not afraid of holding so many good livings, lest he should diefsome fine morning of p/uracy. nautical model of the latter. BETREE SEA-SIDE AIRS. (4s shown by Young Gentlemen at a Watering-place.) Weare hats and coats they would never think of wearing in Sporting their elegant feet in buff-coloured slippers, or bof/ines, or pearl-buttoned beste, or chece €f. the mast Gumuling celsare, ouch os wo at ee al al ing a long tel a " a telesco under their arm, which every now and map paseunsiaas the pereeet to take a sight at some ae ee i at guage, so as to impress any one with t notion that they had a whole fleet of yachts under their command, and Se ot tog ween gees co Seven fee * y H’v’ns! in steering for the pastrycook’s, she’s run the oid gentleman.” we In short, making their appearance as “ shi ” as ble, their conversation also, taking "My Poll a ecto lee’ Joe” aa the Smoking along the pier, up and down the P before nenalitigts aad tatoos Genes, uight'on tll as dun, euiinnall long everywhere. Hanging about the sands under the pretence of ing a book, and yy ge pag we sit down—one for their body, one for their legs, and another for their feet—with another one for their telescope. Walking, » as if the whole place belonged to them— | staring every one out of countenance—talking loudly, as if they were in a fashionable box at the Opera—and swinging their bodies about, just as if it was necessary to imitate the rolling of a ship beeause they were | e——-, = panied by a big dog, the f the | 5 i are aecompani a big , the terror of the n -maids and the children, all the better. Supposing the dog is | fond of the water, and emulates his master in creating a great splash amongst the young ladies, all the better still. And when the young gentlemen return to their desks, or their mothers’ rings, in town, they are so meek and orderly, and | walk the streets with such boarding-school modesty and precision, that no one would suspect for a moment they were the same rough, noisy, Newfoundlandish, splashy fellows that were bounding about in ail | directions at the sea-side A TOUR QUITE ABROAD. —and more than a return ticket for Paris, They manners, first-rate keepers. the iti to ex adopt e rh ti Hib gE E ee H if ; i : FS : ie Eos 5 6 EFLEE rp A be treated with. No Kossutn need apply.— Address , has the very head that willzfit it. | when the Crown shall be restor

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=e pS teat a 122 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL

is to be visited: nothing shal! interfere with baby’s privilegea—baby’s A GREAT BABY CASE. rights to its own milk ; and that baby, so nursed, so nourished, will bave saved the lives of thousands of babies by making Duchesses and T all times Punch delights to meet in| Marchionesses suckle their own little ones—the future ornaments of the the Times the letters “8. G. O.’’| House of Lords. There they are, the letters signifying! This is the examp'e that is needed in ~ Without it great work—work—work : and always noble | babies will continue to fatten on the natural property of mean ones ; work: work that is to pick up poor|and the suckling Earl of Piccadilly cheat little Whitechapel, that humanity out of the mud it may craw), | after a due course of “ convulsions, dysentery, marasmus,” of their own milk: the milk that they bring with them; the milk that, for a certain price, is sold in Portman Square and Belgravia. “T do not know,” says 8S. G. O.— I do not know which to rate highest, the cruelty or the immorality to which the wet-nurse system offers so liberal a prewium. Ladies have no shame, show no reluctance in hiring the serviee of ‘a healthy young single woman’ to give to their infant the food they refuse it, and which she must take from her own.” And the Registrar-General shows that the defrauded suckling generally dies! Thus, poor little Turnham-Green is sacrificed to Helgravia; weak, puny little Peckham is offered up to May Pair. “ Usually,” says the Kegistrar-General, “in about four or five months death occurs, literally and truly for the want of nature’s own nutriment —breast-milk.” The milk sold to four months’ old Marquis—to suckling Kar! ! Weil, 8. G. O. admits that a baby may be a “bore:” a very great “bore” indeed, if arriving in the world early in the fashionable season. Acd nursing, be thinks, may spoil a figure; and, moreover, absolutely make a mother look like a mother—not at all an agreeable reflection, you know, in Lapy Rosa’s looking-glass. “| will not for a moment dispute but that it would ‘annoy Hzwry to have the nurse shuffling in with baby at all hours of the night;’ still, allowing to wealth and higch-breeding, fashionable refinement, &c., every protection their vested interests demand, I must yet question whether Lapy Briia’s season's enjoyment, her husband Mewnry’s usbroken after-Honse of-Commons sleep, the preservation of her girlish figure, are worth the moral cost of a premium to immorality, or the cruel cost of death to the infant whose mother’s milk has been bought away from it.’ All this is very strong; and 8. G. O. continues, becoming almost vebement in his indignation at the immorality of the high lady who will buy the milk of “nice tidy Many ”—it may be a “fallen” Many —but then the fa!! has been so pathetically accounted for—that it were scarcely so much a fall as a trip or slip. And Mary for a while lives weil and reposes, like a jewel, in velvet ; until the little lord is weaned, and then the world is before her, and she may “sin again.” But all wet-nurses are not of these. Many are married women : “So they are; and the father has to see his own child waste, or for pay receive a bastard'’s food, beeanse his own or wife's poverty bas forced him and her to barter their own infant's proper nourishment, that some high-bred or weal:hy mother may save her figure or enjoy her season of gaiety.” These be bitter words: but like bitter aloes, they are true things. And is there no remedy for this? Shali May Fair continue to have its Moloch? Shall mother’s milk—like milk of asses—be still vendible at great houses? No; we espy a very probable remedy. A time may come when the Morning Post shall e-em od announce that the most illustrious wife and highest mother in the land is about to have even the fullness of her domestic happiness increased ; and further that the Post is almost authorised to state that—“ No Wet Nurse need a Now this one fact, with all the force of strongest example, would almost stop the sale of mother’s milk in high places. Never mind the calls of daily duty and daily ceremony ; it matters not that a Drawing- room is to be that the East or Denny is to be honoured with an interview—that a State dinner is to be given—that Uncie Leorotp and comforted. Well, | breast-milk.” At a progress to Balmora!, how the mothers of England would | crowd to look at baby—the haby nursed by the mother on “ whose dominions the sun never sets!”’ THE PRIDE OF LONDON! (Being a slight liberty taken with “ The Bride of Abydos.’’) Kyow ye the stream where the cesspoo! and sewer Are emptied of all their foul slushes and slimes, Where the feculent tide of rich liquid manure Now sickens the City, now maddens the Zimes 7 Know ye the filth of that great open si Which no filter can sweeten, no “navvy” can drink : Where in boats overcrowded the Cockney is borne To the mud-bounded gardens of joyous Cremorne : Where the gas-works rain down the blackest of soot, And the oath of the coalwhipper never is mute: Where the liquified mud which as “ water” we buy, With the richest of pea-soup in colour may vie, And deodorisation completely defy : Where the air’s {ill’d with smells that no nose can define, And the banks teem prolific with corpses canine ? ’Tis the stream of the Thames! ’tis the Pride of the Town! Can a nuisance so dear to us e’er be put down? Oh! fouler than words can in decency tell Are the sights we see there, and the scents which we smell ! “THE DEVOURING ELEMENT.” Panwy-a-Livers have long been in the habit of calling fire “ the Devouring Element ;” but the fire will soon be put out, we think, by Steam. Only look at the accidents on the American steam-boats, ana the daily accidents that occur on our beautifully-managed railways—al! caused by Steam! We hope, therefore, for the future, that when penny-a-liners are describing any casualty of the above sort, they will always allude to Steam as being “ Ze Devouring Element.” Con- sidering the heaps of pennies they must have Sonal by this time out of Steam, the least they can do is to show their gratitude by awardi |to it the “devouring” superiority. Henceforth, let it be ~ A maerneom Stream promoted (vice Fine, put out) to be “The Devouring Ele- ment.” From this very day, Steam is the penny-a-liner’s Element, (par excellence) of Destruction !

A SERIOUS RAILWAY GRIEVANCE. “Mr. Puncu, Sin,—Bound with a few friends on a short pleasure ex- | cursion, | repaired, the other day, to one of the principal railways. In consequence of having misunderstood BrapsHaw we got to the station | half an hour too soon, and not knowing how we could more appro- | priately fill up the time, we determined to employ it in making our | wills. On inquiry we found that there was not a single solicitor, or even a lawyer's clerk in attendance, nor even one will-paper to be had at the book-stall. 1 trust that, through the influence of your powerful journal, on all the stations of every line of railway proper accommoda- tion will be provided for performing that serious duty, which, if | Previously neglected, must suggest itself to everybody who steps into | a train, particularly if in the position of your humble servant, “ PaTEBRPAMILIAS.” Speaking Out. towns that have sent in Emperor, by saying “ in fact, all France bas 'way that France speaks out, better far that titions praying of Louis Naro.zow to be ken out.” If this is the were dumb !

to the “seal of the Fisherman :”—when he’s such a very great Master ,of Billingsgate !

niin * or be crushed in: work that lays hold |in about four or five months “for the want of nature’s nutriment— |

Tue Pays concludes a long article, in which a list is given of all the Apropos or Cautit, D.D.—No wonder that Canrut claims homage

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON | CHARIVARI.

THE RAILWAY GILPIN.

- oe i ae te bn megan And ot pa cations toy drew near, or li renown, the pte shrilly blew, The famed Jou Grirm’s grandson, he “No train! A hoax |"" oried clerks, agog Aad in tig ast sia nen, Abides in London town. To swear through thick and thin. The train like lightning flew. To our Jon encineent ot tomy “Yaa!” went the throats; stamp went the pee are “ Stewed as we've heels : ithout a ; i Since Whitsuntide, ‘tis io that we Ay I. — py Bu paused, 10 "scape a second smash, ase All cried it was too bad! ee mi “a ss Jonn Grurry home would fain have hied, | aS On platform m Unto the Nell at Dedmanton, — ‘ed ‘by hae wilfel bed Hee tender taba, sng much And take a breath of air. awe | bride, ‘o let himself ou And take the usual train, “ My sister takes our eldest child ; "Twas | ‘Hallo! Jomw Gurrrx atl ong before our ” ‘=o Xr rain sould Game gt thy o = oo Samy » When—stop ! one ticket for the-fares “ etn “aay Won’t so expensive be. Was lost or left behind? Guard!” shouted Hi! Joun ey on’t admire “Good lack !”” quoth Jomm, “yebtryitom,” But no—the train was not a bit That railway, I, for one; “*T won't do,” the Guard Arranged to tarry there, But you know my dearest dear, And bearing wife and babesen say Re A ere twas an Express, And so it must be done. The train without him files. And did despatches bear. “hee Senge few Now see him in a second train, opener, ft aw aR Friday by the calendar, Bares on, sep aak-aeiiesenes As i the deuce "t were going to, my limbs, and go.” With small concern or heed. With motive impulse strong. are breath besides ‘Dash puffing steam, un wettens the Razersion Tox, Oh, oy a ietnent yom unto ured ree A Which makes it still less dear.”* A running such a rig!” ee stood still. 7 , ear A signal, hark !—the whistle screamed— | And then—best that he could do— And slightly smiled to find Smash! went the windows all : He booked hi for Town ; That though on peril she was bent, “ An accident!” cried out each one, They downed at every station up, She had a careful mind. As loud as he could bawl. he again got down. The morning came; a cab was sought; | a GrLPLy, never mind— | Says Guten, “ Sing Long live the Quzzy, The time allow’d brain seemed spi round ; And eke long life to me ; To reach the station door; but lo! Ts t he, “This speed a pace | sudan teediies Use canin, Before it stood a crowd. Will prove, I’ll bet a pound!” Myself I blest will see !”

ER - --+- THE HORSES AND THE MAL-DE-MER. = JOLLY BARRISTERS, Ar the late the Barristers on the Western Circuit found themselves with li nothing to do at Dorchester. The Court was of necessity closed, and a holiday was forced upon the learned gents, + et and sitting down in a state of | bags, resolved to turn pain into | at cricket aclub in the the. despondency over their empty brief é ‘ afinity between the game of cricket and | performer® ae cee of a |

the game of law, which perhaps made the former agreeable to the and learned gents, when deprived of the latter pastime. ‘The putting popular . Be stumps savoured slightly of the ceremony of stumping up, | i some- Ww their clients usually ceilien ; and the justifying of was Y/ i he idea of pleasantly t od in the due djusiment of wickets. There is ae ‘ can drop something melancholy in this reduction of a 4} ial of tears my ey py ep hp bay bey ht of these absence of occupation. Some of the Barristers hit with all the force confined to of utter desperation; and one sentimental junior who was f hen they out, when the ball rolled to his feet could not forbear the expression ing in Mu, regret that, wi oS for the last ten years, the ball had sircle. We iver bw hi fet ina cope yy ae that ee as acting as in vain, w stopping so in a profession by plied which nothing been realised. Our interest in the game is ti which is Tp a when we reflect that, though it was sport to the for the a arose out of a state of things which was death to

The Deponent’s Assistant. A NEWLY invented forceps has, we understand, been submitted for —— to the Irish College of ~~ oe It is an instrument of the construction is to displa: tt enuity, ~~ tried for the extraction of any oath w outa te witness or juryman by sticking in his throat.” The — tt this invention is ascribed to a celebrated political Priest.

loving somal last works, foweem, that our e Prince has published , aro—fireworks, Eritare vor s Srock-BrokeR,—“ Waiting for a Rise.”

si ae eee ne meine os Toren

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124 PUNCH, OR TILE LONDON CHARIVARL THVHNEETE', Soonper ee OSE views mas NN UL AAU fs Wy " ya “ A LUCID EXPLANATION. “What CaN BE THE MATTER with THE “ Maaic,” Cuarces! “Wur, you sez, pear, Tom put His HELM DOWN RATHER 100 QUICK, AND SHE MISSED TAYS AND WENT ASHORE, AND THEY ARE NOW HAULING THE JIB A-WEATHER TO LET HER Fite ano Pay orv.” FESTIVITIES AT OSBORNE. (From a Local Correspondent.)

Aupert’s birthday. As to how I come to zee um, telluns. In the fust pleace, they ’d got a gurt big Booth out on the Green up agin the House; this here booth . was where the eatun-match was to come off. He was stuck about wi laurels, boughs and viags, to bean- tivy un. The dinun teab'es mm 6s was zet out down the ma middie of un, vrom one ~. end to tother, wi nieves, varks, and pleats, etzetrer, all in apple-pie ardour. ‘ Long zide o the big Booth they ’d stuck upa little un for the Queen, Prince ALBEat, and the Ryal Yunkers to squat under. They called un a Mar-Quee, which 1’d heerd was the neam for a Vrench noableman ; howsomedever a’d got the British Viag viyun in vront of un, besides the Prince’s and Paince or Wa.ezs’s colours. ‘The company was to be the labourn fokes and sich like as works on the State—not your Lazy Darsys I doan’t mane, nor none o they. Also the labourn men’s wives. Likewise a lot o the sogers, zailors, marines, cooast gyard and Trinaty House chaps as be lyun on dooty thereabouts. Down they zits a little avore dree, when presently we hears music approachun, wi a zmell o zummut good, and in marches a couple o bands playun the “ Rooast Beef of Old England.” Arter they, follers handy three score and ten zailors and mareens carryun the same, and other mate ; also pene and strong beer. Zoon as they” they sez; and in 7? got well sated, afore the Grass, “ Here she comes ! Queen Victoria, hooked on to Puince MUU

never you mind—that are’s |

A MATTER OF SUSPENSION. | We might borrow a hint from Louis Narotzoy

and treat balloons as the Press, viz., to | “warn” them before ee ion ” took place. If, sher one or two ~ tings, “gr still continued, then we the balloon as love wesunen Ges ae, by not lowing appear more. some such decree is not issued and we will not answer for the consequences. We shall hear of a pony into a iage on the laps of fome three or four ladies and them out of their lives, or else of an woman being killed some evening by a bull dropping from an altitude of s thousand feet upom her unconscious bonnet With these aérial we are wens Bon the Germans their hereditary kingdom of Air, and if a stop is not put to these exhibitions, we shal! soon bave the reputation of being as flighty as | the French themselves. We, therefore, recommend 'that NaPotzon’s plan of “ ion” be imme- | diately put into force with M. Porrevre’s ascents. It is the only kind of suspension suited to such beastly performances.

American Digestion. Srrance birds, those Yankees! people often say. Yes, indeed: and so it would seem from the follow- ing passage in the New York Courier and Inquirer, relative to iroa :— “We recently stated that the consumption in the United States amounted to about 1,000,900 tons per annum, or 100 lbs. to each person.” A nation of ostriches ! f A Trostee.—One who gets all the kicks, and none of the halfpence,

Avpert, and the rest of the Royal Family. The band strikes up the Nashonal Anthum, and while they was playun of *t, the Queen and _Coort paices down tween the teables in State. She hadn’t t no Jrown on, though; and didn’t goo, as L’ve zee her draad, wi Ball in +| © Herewi I zends you the count iI : ; cate ais So co GU | one hand and Zepter in tother. I vaney the heft on um’s too much doouns at OsBorne over in | the Ily Wight, Prixce) to lug about. The Paryce o Waxes, nuther, didn’t wear his topknot o veathers as I expected a ood. Grass havun bin zed by Mz. Towarp, Her Mansvsty’s Baylif, they | set to, and a precious good stick they played. Thinks I to myseif, these here be what you may call the QugEn’s eaters. : Arter dinner they drinked health to the Quzzmw and Prince, the Vounders o the Veast, them and theirn, and } life to un, wi dree times dree, which is moor, |’m bound, than the PEROR 0 HER 'and Austry, and Kise o Paroosner, and Bony tue Ssconn’s work- | people ood do for their masters,—if they wasn’t foced to. | ‘Toastun and hoorayun over, they zets to at the spoorts and pastimes out on the Green, ramnun and jumpun, and lippun a precious sight nimbler than you’d a fancied they could, arter all that are beef. Besides which there was a dale o daancun, and uncommon well they | daanced too, zum on em—though it must a took zam cheek, I should | think, to daance avoor the Queen. She and the Prince zat onder the | Mar-Quee lookun on, Jaafun and smilun, savun your presence, a« | plased as Punch. 1 couldn’t help grinnun too to zee the fun; and | sartainly ’twas a zight wuth zeeun, the sogers and zailors in their | blew and scarlut quoats, tother young chaps in their Zanday’s best, }and the gals all smart and tidy, vrolickun and kyaaperun about, in | gay ribbons, and eclane white stockuns, wi their kiekun-straps on. Zammut arter zeven, Hex Mapsusty, Pri and the rest on em, | hopped off to the tune agin of “ God save the .” Whereupon | | says to myzelf, now they be gone, and thee ’st zim as much as thee | need’st to zee, | thinks thee ’st had enough on’t; and zeeun as how thee ca’st n’t git no moor beer in this pleace, thee ‘dst best go | whoam., — A Naturalist’s View of the Great Fishing Question. Since Izaac Watrtow fished and wrote, the voracity of the Pike, jor Jack, has in England been proverbial. our American expe- } Tience has lately given us fresh proof of it; for there can be little | question that the recent Fishery dispute was occasioned mainly by the | greediness of our present Jacks in Office. <indeantinimtsicaiioi alt, Jesurr’s Barx.—Da. Canrtc’s Letter to“Lorp Densy.

Printed by William Bradbury, of No. 13, Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, an! Frederick Mullett Evans, of No. 7, Church Row, Stoke Newington, both in the © ‘Of Middlesex, Prin: ers, t Vleet Screet, in the Parish of St. Bride's in the City of Lendon.—Sateanat, September lh.a, 1862. Oteetn Lombard St , in the Precinct of Whitefriara, in the City of London, a»i Cudlished by the Ne. % at ther

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A DISAPPOINTMENT. | SOLLY IN OUR ALLEY. E have looked i ith the t \ fis te er a bgoeneiehens By « prea Cadger. / gums of money that have been forwarded to the Oy all the flats with blunt that part, CHANCELLOR OF THE ExcHeQqueR under the | ‘There ’s none so green as Soy . ead of “Conscience Money,” and must say He 's pot a kind benevolent art, that we have been extremely disappointed at And is know’d in our Alley. not finding mention of a single farthing sent Oh, don’t I like the blessed day in the name of the Rev. As comes afore the Monday ! Mr. Moorg, the Monster Cause why? it is old Souty’s way Pluralist, e must con- To go to church on Sunday. fess, after the numerous | fis. exposures that have taken And there a-watching nigh the door, place of his sinecures and | We waits for Souty ; many livings, we did slightly He takes sitch pity on the poor— expect to read a pleasant ; My oo we c= wh : ; little paragraph announcing n mw wet | slops about = 4". the Batre of a sum Without a shoe or stockin’, . — of certainly not less than And all in rags, there's not a doubt £50,000 from the much- But what my looks is shockin’. abused gentleman im ques- : ; tion. But no! there has But vet and dirt I never minds ;

not been a penny sent; not A object melancholy | even a postage stamp! We) [ bears it all, because { finds are sorry for the Reverend | Thereby a friend in Soutr. Registrar, for he bas lost | I’m bound I'd get a underd pounds, a noble opportunity of re- | By cadgin’, out of Soxty, lieving bis conscience and his pocket at the same time. We wish the CoaNceLion His wealth and riches so abounds, oF THE ExcHEQUER would write to inform him that it wasn't too late yet ! And he’s a muff so jolly !

as a rebel to his lawful King, seeing who once riz against good THE NEW AMERICAN AMBASSADOR. KisG Georee, the father of people (JowaTHan giving his old father such a tarnation licking). y Trusty correspondent at ie er ag has gly an exclusive copy of the m- r ’ van 4) y structions of the American OUR CAPERS AT THE CAPE. ome to tga Now that there is a prospect—for the sixth time these two years— M _ over ae © of a termination to the war at the Cape, we may hope to see it con- , ii j ‘ope U ted States’ verted into a subject for one of the series of historical dramas at Astley’s, rr — 0 r ; tates where we have the satisfaction of seeing our battles fought over again — or, at yoy 5. and again, without finding them set down asa large and disagree- | A. ry at me able item im the year’s estimates. The Cape War abroad takes pounds ron tof th ~ a pint out of cur pockets, while the same thing— much better done—at the foot - ne the ae nis-| of Westminster ge, mulcts us of, at most, a few shillings. The | bet roy J ine OF poucy | affair must however be quite finished abroad before it is ripe for treat- | eo ee | ment by the Astleian dramatist at home, who never looks at » subject | come out as fresh as ever, and, ina word, “as as new” when- _ t thas, Te e ore, tO ever there is a fight: and when the “taking of the Water-Kloof” is aka t the ee sure to be the principal incident, a splendid “line in the bill” might . ya a vent, nothing be made with such a subject as the “ identical Kloof,” and, if it could = cothinas t-caps ZOINE he supplied with “real water,” (there are plenty of pumps in the | “2. You will be courteous and accessible on all occasions to your | One ee eon we ee is in the hands of the | fellow-citizens of the Union: never permitting the atmosphere of | pritish S of the foe; and as it has been a sort of shuttlecock between monarchy, and more especially the intoxicating and deleterious atmos- the two during the whole war, it is difficult to guess who, in the latest phere of Almacks, of Stonehenge House, Normanblood Palace. and | \%\"” hang Aan ty ; such high —to make you forgetful of the equality of all aotie, ania Dave ginee Ss the htas See eee ee rire children of JowaTHAN igeers being cattle) oe a cored ome roe fadoed, ait yo yoy ane vhost | a,3+ You will inthe fulilment of your oficial duties, have to swallow page CPT T. 3 4 Dts. many public dinners; whereat you wi called upon to speak. | engagement wi Ye open engage ; Always hold out the right hand of fellowship—bat a your eek po : ae vate part as straight. When invited to the high festivals of the Tittlebatmongers’ | . : Company, you may—or rather mus!—use a little soft sawder about the , ; fish business, so amicably settled (with a hook and a line). | Trial of Faith. _ “4. You will have to propose toasts. Therefore do not give the| A Supscurrrion is opened to defray Da. Newman’s expenses in the immortal memory of Krxc Jonw—because you may see at the board a | very reputable trial of “ ACHILLI 7. Neww «.” Masses,twice a week Jew sheriff whose ancestor had his teeth pulled out by the orders of are offered as a tremendous bait to all those “benefactors” who will - on Majesty—the King drawing on the Jew’s jaw instead of | subscribe. We are afraid the donations tumble in very slowly—or else inally, you will not spit upon the memory 4 the way, Da. Newmamw would never be put to this expedient of a-mass-ing a | you must not spit in company anywhere in England,) of Wat Trier public subscription.

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Pt a gore ane a ee 126 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARTVAR! And Howt, who has a taste in songs, kindly offered, then and there, EXTRAORDINARY NOCTURNAL BALLOON | To set “ Biow! Biow, thou wintry wind!” to an atmospheric air ASCENT OF THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION. Kindly Communicated by Paoresson Pvrrr. Belfast, September 7th, 1962. Perhaps that humble name, Though it ’s not for me to say so, isn’t quite unknown to fame, For since I first was capable in child- hood of reflection, Each branch of seience has received from me a close inspection. _ Though my parents were not partial, they remember to this hour __ My childish speculations on ‘ The Go- cart’s motive power ;” And how I cut the bellows up, in the futile hope to fiad If by spontaneous action they could generate their wind. At school, of other principles the knowledge I obtained, — And the “Science of osname fl from my gun quickly d ; And vm ba fought with — Jonzs, *twas but that He and I, If we were “ Isodynamical ” had often wished to try. After that, I studied chymistry at college with Ww, BYP, . Who taught, “What spirit is the base of Cider Cu Flip,” “ How Soda Water oft the head from vinous fumes will clear,” And “ What the change it undergoes when combined with bitter beer.” It is n’t then remarkable, with all this preparation, — That I’m a shining mem ber of learn’d Association, Or that my humble writings on every novel theme To their volumes of Transactions should have added many a seam. It was I detected strychnine in the brewers’ bitter ales ; I cor: nd with ReicHenBACcH by sympathetic snails ; lt was | who wrote the “ Vestiges,’ with convincing pen, Shewed how a man has been a goose, and can be a goose again ; It was I, who first to steer balloons a certain plan projected ; It was I, who in the Red men first the lost ten tribes detected ; The learned Suez concedes to me, without a thought of flattery, I first perceived a man to be a mere voltaic battery— __ Whose every action, feeling, thought, pain, sorrow, or felicity, Depend not on himself, but on the laws of electricity : So that if a thief should steal our watch, we musn’t charge the action To any moral flaw, but to the “ Force of his Attraction : ” Whilst if a Lady should refuse our suit her approbation, ’Tis only that she has too strong a “ Current of Negation.” These data, Sir, are given here from no absurd vainglory, But simply that my may be a voucher for my story, Whose tenor on your startled mind will force this strong conviction, How true the proverb is, that Truth is stranger far than Fiction. I had sat with all the Sections, in turn throughout the day— And had read a little paper of my own in Section A, Upon “ Comets, as examined with two eyes or with one, And what theyseem to those who squint,”—and when our work was done, We had all gone off most willingly to dinner with the Mayor, For though tables of statistics are our hobby, pride, and care, There are some other tables we ‘re as ready to compare. \ And musing, as | rambled home, on all our conversation, And how my paper had obtained the Section’s approbation I felt a tap upon my back, and looking round, beheld Str Ropsarick, accompanied by worthy Ma. Wexp. ™ a !” said they both at onee, “ We've borrowed Gazmn’s And are going to make a voyage to the ‘Glim of the Moon,’ We've got a new lactometer for Woops and Farapay, To analyse the curds they find within the Milky Way, And Lankestex is going to seek (he loves ragouts and spices) A new receipt to make hare soup from the Come Berenices.” Hard by the car we met with Hivcxes calling Bunsen o’er the coals, For saying that the natives spoke Sclavonic near the Poles ; Whilst Brat, who on the zodiac writes, did piteously implore us, To carry up an Irish Bull and mend the breed of Taurus. Now up we went and soon perceived a singing in our ears, Which some of us opined mus; be the Music of the Spheres, Mi name is Purry, Mr. Puach.| When we got amongst the planets, Cotonget Portiock called to Mars, To ask, if with the Minié gun they armed the shooting stars ; And we also learned with pleasure from that plamet that Tom Sraine, Having won the Belts from J crrres, is the pet of Satunn’s Ring. It was here that Weusn and Nick is let their quicksilver escape, And Cotowet Sastye got us all into a mighty scrape, | By proposing that im Mercvay (I think the man was daft), With the help of Ursa Mrvox, we should try to sink a shaft. | Of course, as soon as Mercury perceived this daring feat, His dander, as the Yankees say, riz up to fever heat ;— | And though that dashing fellow, Hiwp, tried hard to set us free, By pitching out, to lighten us, the whole of Section D— | He set the Dogstar at our heels, and caught us in the lamp, | And bade Aquagius come and pat us ali beneath the Pump, | Who, having drenched and beaten us with all his might and main, | Sent us off to Limbo Patrum for the night in CuaRes’s Wain. | There we found the shirt of triple brass which the hardy sailor wore, | Who first, as Horace tells, essayed to pass from shore to shore ; | There, too, the belt Utysszs got in the storm from Nepevs’ daughter, | And the grateful look he paid her with (slightly damaged by salt water) ; | And a head of young Apowis, labelled Venus’ only joy, And a smaller head—tis property—when quite a littie bey; | Fight or ten old constitutions, by the French in turn forsaken, And a little heap of broken oaths, which the Pazstozwr had taken ; |The Yankees’ title to the [sles oa the Peruvian shore ; | And the Christian moderation of the Reverewp Mr. Moons ; | A dog which Jupiter had tossed when, as a bull, he ranged ; | And some pieces of that shower of gold into whieh the god was changed, | When through the crannies, chinks, and holes of Dawaz’s well-barred closet, | There fell, as Murcuison would say, an auriferous deposit. Well! the man who kept these precious things—I think his name was PetTicaew— | Was so vexed to see us handle them, that in a mighty pet he grew, | And ramped and raved, and chafed and fumed, till 1 quite shook for dread, And started, Sir,—to find myself stretched out wpon my bed, | In the Cat and Salutation, and to hear to my surprise, : | At my door the Boots exclaiming, “ If you please, it’s time to rise.” Hayti and France. Soutovuqcg, Emperor of Hayti, has begun to imitate, Louis Napo- | LEON, ordering his consuls abroad to prosecate the wicked newspapers that shall disrespectfully speak of Soutougus. This imitation bodes no good for Hayti. [t may be continued. Any way it is best to be | | | ! upon the watch. Wherefore, we advise the Haytians mot to go to bed , |} on the 2ad of next December. SLEEPERS WIDE-AWAKE. | Ir is said that there are certain mesmeric sommambulists who, in their state of eclairvoyanee, prescribe for patients by intuition, in this way drive flourishing medical practices. Tie question is, whether or not these somnambulists are genuine Sleep-Wackauas ? Irish Craniology. At one of the late meetings of the British Association, Mu. Jamuus Grattan is reported to have read a r ona collection of crania discovered in the “ Round Towers ” of The learned lecturer made some interesting remarks on the distinc’ive peculiarities of the Irish skulls, of which the principal characteristic—though he seems not to have noticed it—probably was, that of having mostly been broken during life. EPIGRAM FOR BRADSHAW. “Ha!—hark!”—eries Hamar; “ distant thunder ! Now has that bolt killed any one, I wonder ?”— “ Thunder!” quoth Drcx, “ you hear the Railway Train : I want to know how many at has slain.” TO MARRIED MEN. pg onsteve VINDEPOT is about to start a new Balloon, with descending AYA Parasols, for the express use and descent of Married Ladies. Monsieur will. of course, on every occasion accompany the ladies, dropping them, tn his newly-patented parasols, to earth (or water) as agreed upon. Terms as to depth of descent, and to place, whether ia gravel-pit, bog, or the wide ocean, to be settled between Monsizun Viypgpor and the husbands of the ladies who may honour him with their instructions. | Viwe la Reine ! Place auz Dames ! ener A - Patewt.—Poeketing some £9000 a year by a Sinecure | hegistrarsnhip.

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| Karner Cantit has when he | calls a non-natural sense, understanding black to mean white. English- | Your forefathers believed m—because they fancied they saw—the | fagots, stakes, and flames of meek Mary. THE CRUSADE AGAINST ENGLAND ! To Mn. Puwcu. ERMIT me, my very dear Sir, to utter a meek remonstrance against a ‘leader’ in that ad- mirable—when not prejudiced r, the Zraminer, entitled * Religious War Cries.’ The animadversions of the L.caminer were occasioned by an article in the Univers—the well-known liberal and enlightened organ of the French priesthood — appa- rently preaching up war with England, in order to the con- version of that noble—but here- tical—nation by the sword, “Now, my very dear Sir, and your readers—im fact, the amner has fallen into the com- mon error of not making the proper ee jee figura- tive spirituality o anguage of Catholiciam. When the Un- vers exhorts the faithful to war with England, it does not mean by war sanguinary hostilities. invoke against you artillery, Minié rifles, muskets and bayo- nets. It has no more view to the overthrow of your political | lightning, and this has been superficiall constitution and the destruction of British power in Kurope than good seemingly rejoices in the prospect of PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 127 what I want to explain to you| It by no means intends to| “Pray then, my very dear Sir, advise your readers to abandon the absurd idea that our priesthood, in France and elsewhere, are striving | to work the humiliation of England. They do, indeed, labour to the end that Jouw Butt may humble himself—but quite voluntarily. This undoubtedly they expect that he will do; yes, we hope to see him, spontaneously attired in an ignominious dress, do penance in Kegent Street, and after lying some hours ifi a state of ‘ prostration,’ submit to be whipped publicly in Golden Square. Ah, soon may we behold that interesting—affecting sight '—speedy be the advent of that day so edifying to Christendom! But never—oh never think that we dream of subjugating him by violence! Oh dear, no! You would do us a deal of good if you would employ your lively pen in lightly and jocularly ridiculing the supposition that ger to liberty, here or elsewhere in Ew 1s to be bended from the machinations of our priests. “Yes, my very Sir; let me disarm your suspicions, and per- suade you to go comfortably to sleep. [ would address to you—with a proper I the admonition of your heresiarch Cnromwe.u. Put your trust in the miracle of La Saterre; but don’t—don’t take the trouble—on any account, to keep your powder dry. Withal, believe me “Your sincere Friend, Lid Vernax.” / = whole world—is, that the Zr-| A Black Diamond from Northumberland. Mr. Lippe. cal!s Downing Street the “Seer’s Cell”—the Seer being our clever friend Disaag.i, and Lonp Dexsy, we suppose, is the Over-seer. We agree with the above expression of the “ Seer’s Cell,” which we think very pretty, but there is a trifling error in the spelling. It should have been spelt “Sell,” for such it certainly will turn out to |be. We are the more particular about this error, as it stands to | reason every Seer should be perfect in bis Sgell. MORAL PHILOSOPHY POR THE BOUDOIR, Ir has been remarked that ladies have generally a great fear of ‘ ascribed to their natural timidity; but the truth is that it arises from their consciousness of being attractive. England’s downfall, and in the idea of french soldiers capering in your | = blood, and rolling in your viscera. Ee “Oh no! my dear Sir; language such as this is but the playful affectionate extravagance of pious love—of enthusiastic charity run a little wild: it must all be taken in what our Pusey—yours and mine— men have too long been imposed upon by the appearances of things. They beheld merely the species—as we say—of such objects, and of roasting victims; who were alive and merry all the while. These hallucinations are but devices of the enemy, and can always be dissipated instantaneously by the} slightest scratch of a saint’s toe-nail—if perfectly genuine. “ The c of France do mean to invade you—with an army of mis- sionaries. They will have no trouble to cross the Channel; that voyage they will perform, each on his cassock, miraculously unseen, or super- | | naturally invulnerable, by your cruisers. They will advance ad armed with spiritual canons, with no more material weapons crucifixes, which they may lift against you, but will never hit you with. Soutanes, surplices, pontificals, monastic habits will be their regimentals. They will be accompanied by troops of Angels with wings—some| actitious, some, perhaps, real. They will fire upon you—but only with | holy water—by the help of an Irish Brigade. Should you still hold out, they may, in the last resort, bring to bear upon you that supernatural piece of metal alluded to by the Bisnor or Lucon in his luminous pastoral —that medal which marks ‘sudden conversions,’ is known as mi ,” and ‘has filled the world with prodigies.’ No red-legged French soldiers will you see in this army: no red legs at all but those of your own CARDINAL. “Oh, do not think that the benevolent clergy of France, as represented by the Uivers, are instigating their flocks to cut your throats, shoot you, brain you, rum you through the stomach! They provoke the faithful to shed your blood? Oh, no! they would A « have! | them shed their own tears for your conversion. Yes, my very dear Sir, we weep for you when you think we are cursing you. ‘ Weep still, always weep, evermore weep,’ is our rule and maxim. What seem the) —o and howlings of our sweet Cant are nothing but sobs. or you the eyes of many a saint have poured forth gallons of water, many bottles of which have been preserved ; and their contents oeca-| sionally work the most astounding marvels. With heads of Jesuits on) Temple Bar, and quarters of Oratorians on London Bridge; with! sacerdotal martyrs Vloeding or banished on every side; we cannot afford to have it imagined that a journal like the //swers is fomenting, and a paper such as the Zaélet inviting a military invasion of your! native land. Not that our ecclesiastics wish to shun martyrdom ;| they court it for their own parts, and object to it only for the sake of their perseeutors. ' A DERBY PROPHECY. Wuar has got Dizzy? He ’s very busy a new scheme of Taxation ; And when it comes out, There isn't a doubt, But what he’!] astonish the Nation! The Prince of Literary Darkness. Tue Electric Telegraph the other day communicated this shocking announcement :— as Avdeamee, signed ‘ Lours Navotmon, suppresses the Paris journal, the Corsaire.” _ Traly, Ma. Loum Narouson is playing the very Printer’s devil over in France, Glossary for Prench Republicans. Liserty.—The freedom of anutterable opinion. FaaTeRnity.—Brotherhood in degradation. Equatity.—The uniform condition of frogs under a flagstone. THE METEOR OF CREMOBNE. THe appearance of shooting-stars is common at this time of the year. Perhaps Mapame Porrevin may be included among these phenomena, as a star ing in a parachute, A Canonical Con. Wuy is the Office of Registrar of Wills only worth £9000 a year ? Because it’s impossible to get more (Moone) out of it. TREATED WORSE THAN A DOG. “Too much care,” says the old saying “killed the dog,”—but this saying could never be applied to our Railways, for if a living soul is killed on a Railway, it never arises from “too much care,” but rather the want of it. Penrectity Tave.—A lady, who bas just returned from Paris, upon being asked what kind of tyranny was oun NaPoson’s, ans : “ Par-Fétes (Parfaite).” M. Porreviw’s cruel and dangerous balloon exhibition has been called by a first-rate wit “a Rabid Act of Horsemanship.” 5 am ie aA YE TE eee

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128 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI ANOTHER FRENCH MIRACLE! | By Electric Telegraph. * | Scarcery has France taken breath—scarcely | bas she recovered herself from extacy upon the ‘tidings of the miracle on the mountain of . : Salette, as vouchsafed to two boys, * ; than another miracle has occurred in the Tuileries. ee ey 2 se | As yet, we can only give the merest outline of a eT, ek | the miraculous manifestation, as we have received oo Be ‘it, in solemn be bsevilg, ———— sub- ws: ay! © | marine telegraph. ANS? ‘ ju. y= “Miracle in Paris. Mi t. Gardens of the Tuileries. Two sentinels — wide-awake. Suddenly, Narotzon THe Great stood before them in flash of gunpowder. Smelt like myrth and frankincense. Napotzon put soldiers through exercise. Gave both crosses of Legim of Honour. Pointed in direction of Place Ver- déme. Said of himself he had been a grea man: but he was only fe Petit Caporal to the Napo.eow then in his boots; but he must firs: be Emperor. Ard then Naproteon pointed |towards Notre Dame; and then his little hat changed to crown—crown of France—and then | iron crown of Italy. | “NAPOLEow oad France would never be happy | until bis nephew was Emperor. “Saying this, N aPOLEON y~ rose from the SNK | ADELPHI t OS eric: | » ian ps Ses SI \ ‘earth, and hovered over one icular chesnut Bross SS | if tree: the heels of his boots the branches. ‘Tt Ss / DS mee,» He then disappeared. “The sentinels both speak of the apparition, but one flatly contradicts the other; which the Archbishop of Paris declares to be a ” miraculous evidence of their truth. “One fact, however, is certain. The chesnut second crop of chesnuts. still they grow ry chesnut marked with V, . N.—of course Vive Napoleon, Empereur. ““ & basket of these chesnuts—all the clergy of \) Paris with their robes hastily put on—has been ' |solemnly carried to Notre Dame. .. Prayer—at high service—will be laid on. “The profligacy of certain infidel republicans sneers at the solemn fact of the chesnuts, cries ‘ Calspaw.’” The Beauty of Contrast. WovuLp a negro’s teeth look so very white were his skin not so very black ? Would Diana be so very demure were not Venus so very skittish ? Would Tuexsites be such a poltroon were not ACHILLEs such a hero? | Tories, the promoted Suepes, look in his ermine 'so very white as a Chancery ‘reformer, were not |the promoted Stuart so very black as the sup- PLEASANT. rter of all Chancery abuse? If Lop Sr. , : Toomanse be a Chancery Virtue, he is thrown Old Acquaintance. “’Ave a Daaty, Brut?’ into the best contrast when Ma. Sruakt is Bus Driver. “Wuy, YER seE, Jim, THIS ’ERB YOUNG Hoss HAS ONY BIN IN "ARNESS made a Vice. ONCE AFORE, AND HE’S SUCH A BEGGAR TO BOLT, TEN TO ONE IF I Leave "IM HBE’LL os BE A-RUNNIN’ HOFF AND A-SMASHIN’ INTO SUTHUN. HowstvER—HERE (handing reins to timid passenger), tay nowy, Sia, [’LL CHANCE IT! Father Thames's Epitaph. Inrection o'er the town I bore, Commissions were in vain : A DISAGREEABLE RATTLE. Somesopy has just been importing from America a batch of six-and-thirty Rattle-snakes. And died a Tidal Drain. wont may be the a of Oe, oneness, Se ounet Site unless it = meee to take advantage of the a the British public for all sorts of monstrosities. au ences | can be attracted in England by exhibitions of danger, it is natural to presume that a Rulers of the Railways. collection of snakes may become ane popular; and, as the English are often ‘ Pm Ir is high time that a change should take with a rattle,” they will, a fortiori, be delighted with six-and-thirty Rattle-snakes. A few place in the constitution of our Railway Boards | ad ne perhaps, disclose the use or abuse to which this disgusting consignment is to be | of Directors, the ey at present com d; and we are quite prepared to see placards headed, “Come early. Real Rattle-| posing them having their minds by far too akon! attracting our eye in all the principal thorou hfares. Perhaps Mapame Somz- narrowly limited to commercial views: so much BopyY will go up in a balloon, and let herself down from the car by hanging on to the six-| so, that their only notion of their functions as and-thirty Rattle-snakes, clinging to each other’s tails—a mode of lowering one’s self not | governing bodies appears to be, that of ruling less degrading than some of those which have been recently resorted to. | lines for the Purpose of adding up sums. tree, kicked by Napotzon, is covered with a | “ Five —_ riests are picking them; and ve | Finally,—would the Lord Chancellor of the | The Zimes might storm—I braved reform— | | | |

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| T r TT ’ ry r T ’ RAILWAY UNDERTAKING. ) Touter. “ Goinc Br THIS Train, Sir?” Passenger. “'M? Ean? Yes.” Touter. “ ALLOW ME, THEN, TO Givz You one or MY Carps, Sir.” Szerremser 18, 1852

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sere gpaadle raises 5 wikadbta®.. Salen rel

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_PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. — 131 NAVAL NURSERY RHYMES. E have a sery for seamen in the North American fish- — but no nur- rhymes. not the! i be supplied somehow ? * nur- | bi And then let us go and hoist the jib. 2. Little Hanzy Hawsenr, With his cup and saucer, elm-a- Fiddle-de-dee ! Says little Hanny Hawsen. (A ‘ieee Rhyme Yoho! Avast ! Before the mast ! We'll sit le ee cross-tree top, y, With a fat sea-pie, And a bottle - ginger-pop. aera he sits in the - an main-chains, Andjdoes n’t oe it thunders and rains. Little Jac, Quid his back 7 quid, qui Fat his quid; And don’t get drunk, And always do as he ’s bid. N.B. The last lesson alone is worth any money; which it is hoped that a Ministry comprising a literary CHANCELLOR OF THE ExcHequazk, and considering Drepm’s precedent, will not forget. THE DUCHESS’S OWN DOCTOR. a REMARKABLY ingenious medical advertisement has recently om all know that a ysieian cannot advertise in the ordinary way. LINKUMPFERD ” | entirely iene | indeed, it is an original 1, Barney Buxt-| ING put on his | oftener than they ought. that they do not nurse their children because they think it a ‘ great bore,’ or that they wish to * y - AL, ES ll or because they cannot bear that dear Haaay should be disturbed at night.” when he says that he will answer for it that # is that &c., means to say that he will answer for it that the assertion that &c. is entirely &c. This instance of Liwkum- FEEDLE’S grammar is noticeable as wag Sow mney he has hit the style, as well as caught the tone, of advertising be same paint ot of composition. In the same point view the use of “that ” for “ because ” in “ that they wish to enjoy,” &c. is to be observed. Not content, however, with answering for it that As, | if is merely, though entirely, unfounded that the ladies of England do for instances :— | not nurse children, the contrary, that “The great bulk of the upper and middle classes of life do nurse their children Most of those who do not cannot. The difficulty ‘ M.D.» find Dx. LivKuMrgeDis avouches further, and on | is to persuade them to give up, when they are either injuring themselves or their ee from a dislike to a wet-nurse.’ ow, vulgar medical science, as well as common and vulgar sense, wold vy eee to know what classes of living creatures—on two legs— more than the ‘ - t to suckle their own young? Well housed, well fed, or only not weil fed when luxuriously surfeited, not fi to labour to exhaustion, at liberty to take ample exercise for health : are there any kinds of animals better by circumstances for nurses? But fashionable “ ladies’ doctors” know better than this—at any rate, know better than to say thie talk and and write, rather, like LovxuMrerpie, in the following strain :-— . a child has fallen a victim to this hesitation, though tithe and fortune a pd its life; and many a mother, though ‘ highborn and wealthy,’ has ruined her health both of mind and body in — says Linxumveepce, “ will at aig subject.” Yes: T am the cele a + A who oe the tongue of title and fortune, feel the pulse of the highborn and wealthy ; in short, practise extensively ve “upper classes.” Therefore, do altogether differ from “8. ;” for— “ 8. G. O.’s sympathies seem hen with the lower classes. for that, yet" — | “Yet” for “ indeed ”—another grace of advertising literature— “ Yet I think he does them injustice in thinking they go out as wet-nurses for any other motive than sheer necessity. Their poverty only compels them ; the alternative being the workhouse. They may be single, but the greater part of them are married; the husband, per , has gone off to the Australian diggings and forsaken them; or a footman with £20 a year and his beer, thinks he can marry and support Susaw the housemaid, as well as himself, on that income. All this is highly lament- able, bee I do not see what the ‘higher classes’ have to do with it any more than 8. G. himself.” I do not blame him of twenty pounds a year, and malt liquor, which fluid , indeed, is abs com to claret, and which wages are ridiculous to guinea fees! What a nice man! “Jous”—continues Lapr BLancu® ALMONDVILLE, +- ae seen the Doctor’s letter in the Times, and ‘ rn nerves are quite “or 3 this morning—go to Dx. Lovccureap ia wit my compliments, and beg him to call at half- two.” PEEDLE and discovers that the mind of y Biancue is too much for her body, recommends chicken and cold brandy-and-water ; On pain of professional excommunication, he is forbidden to publish his address, terms, testimonials, in the newspapers ; promulgate these particulars i in hand-bills or posters on the walls : or ‘proclaim his cures | after the manner sson Hotiowar. He must not display | inscriptions in front of his house such as “ Yes! this is the Doctor's.” “Walk In!” “ All Kinds of Cases Treated Here!” “Noted House) for Indigestion!” “Consumption Cured!” and the like invitations to| a phthisical and dyspeptic Public. _ is precluded from sending men | and boys about bearing placards or banners, walking between boards. or et tenn vans emblazoned with his name, ‘style, titles, residence and wonderf A eye callie phasiite~ovidentie that—has most adroitly sur- mounted this obstacle to the extension of his celebrity, in @ my addressed to the Times with the signature of “L. C.” * My ini says the writer, “are pretty well known.” So are those of Morison | Hygeist. Yet "Morisow finds it necessary to keep the world in mind ar his pills. Even so it —_e expedient to “L. C.” to stimulate genteel society’s recollection of Dx. Livkumrzzpiz. We read the pretty) well initials of “L. C.” backwards. “L. C.” comes out in the Jimes ; rushes into the columns—or we! may say lists—of our contemporary, to break a lance with discourteous *S. G. O.” im defence of injured dames. True (medical) knight that he is '—at least if he has not been, ought Tammy to be, dubbed such for je service ? on horrid man “8. G. O. r a scouned female — = 0 ek fishly refusing to nurse her nee & 0 ory in- humanly bri Want to nourish them ins ant’s own babeo—which calumny Du. LivkumM¥EEDLE—or Sc L Cc. Lan KUMFEEDLE, | that either is or deserves to be—thus rebuts :— “I will answer for it that the ladies of England will bear every favourable com- parison on this point with any others in the world, and that it is entirely unfou nded prescribes infusion of gentian with spirit of juniper, enjoins a sojourn at Baden-Baden; and—pockets his fee. Fee upon fee, also, does he and is taken abroad with her sal volatile and LINKUMFERDLE’S advertisement has done the trick—enge, Linkum- PEEDLE ! LOINKUMFEEDLE advertises himself to serve as an emollient-soap-box, 4 pometam pet, a settee, ottoman, fautewil, or any other comfort for invali the “upper classes.” Physicians who cannot stoop like LOVKUMPEEDLE to conquer practice, fail im their a, and relin- quish it to the LovkumrzzDLes : whence, the great discoveries which are daily made in medicine, and the v very advanced state of that science - comparison with others! The Practice of the County Courts. | We see a little book advertised under the above title. We do not know much of these interesting localities, and have no desire to extend | our knowledge, but we believe “the practice of the County Courts” aw \ a cases out of twenty, to give a verdict in favour of the A HINT TO INSURANCE OFFICES. | Amps? the ey classes of policies offered to the public by | certain companies, we fear there is one policy | —we allude to that which the old proverb tells us is but it would make a very bad servant, for it is always giving “ warning.” t } How funny is Loskumrgepie on poor Jouw Tuomas, with stipend | yp * as well as feeling and considerate! — Loxom | | pocket in the same way, till the Lapy Biawcur ALMONDVILLE, bag | poodles. ey sight of A Faewcumay’s Senvice.—The Moniteur may make a good master, | |

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1 Si prea a a= | 132 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL GIVE HIM LINE! Tue other day, the penny-a-liner who “pr an impor- tant inquest remarked of the prisoner under trial for murder, that “ phrenologicall neon” “more intellectual than brutal ;” and that the was “ before the ears. ” How iful it is to behold the progress of science! We now see that the presen’ is qualifying himself to judge > agrony as well as narrate their fate. We shall have little to do, henceforth, but consult our wordy friends, and we suppose it will be needful to pay them, per ery for the job. This is ail the more grati ying, as we had “liner” himself rather had his own ears to look after, when phrenologically disposed, than the position of those of the rest of the community. This is a proof that the rey spirit is gradually prevailing, to the exclusion of the imaginative one. For the “liner” used of old to invent, rather than analys:; and startled us, when he did startle us, by “ baking a chila in a pie,” or bringing blood from the clouds, rather than by scientific deductions. The Weather Market. A MeTronoLocist, describing one of the late thunder- storms in a letter to the Times, gives the following extra- eotinary quotations : ‘3h. 16 m. flash of lightning in W., followed by thunder in 4s. ‘ 6h. 50 m. flash, thuader in 2s.; at 6 h. 55 m. 30 s., aud 6 bh. 56 m. 20 8. flashes.” been accustomed to consider that the | his head was | he mass of it | Were the 30s. flashes, &c.,what the Americans call greased | lightning ’—was the thunder in 48. the sort which a poet has styled “buttered thunder?” one | a never sold at any precise figure before, even by medical galvanists, and it is difficult to conczive ‘the article bearing a@ money value, unless through admixture with tallow, butter, or some such ponderable and marketable com- modit y. Harry (‘o Tom). “ Tugre’s one GReat BoRE apovt a WaterRinc-PLace: tury SELL sUCH HORRID Cicars.” REFLECTIONS OF A SECOND CLASS, Tuovcuts are there of a certain kind, That cannot but arise In every thinking person’s mind, | That o’er the Railway flies. Thus he reflects :—“ Like shot 0 convey’d On Steam’s propulsive win For safety other rai's are m But these for no such thing.” Through every Cutting when he goer, In grievous fright he sits, And says unto himself—‘ Suppose I shou'd be cut to bits!” Nigh Points arrived, thinks he—whilst ear Upon his joints doth seize— “Did ever points of sword or spear Such fatal work as these ?”’ In Tunnels, where ’tis pitchy dark, He moralises thus :— “ How very soon life's little spark May be put out for us!” Electric Telegraphs, of course, Remind him of a shock ; The Bell suggests, with striking fores, The sequence of a Knock. Conformity, not Subscription Tue /aivers — that £10,000 is wanted for the Newman subscrip- y £3,000 nas been as yet contributed. that the Roman Catholic laity are not quite so ready as is commonly tion; and that on imagined to subscribe to all the propositiens of their Tue Hriont oF Qevuem. —Ridiag outside a Penny Omnibus. Morto ror a Rattway Company.—“ Live and let live.” To him the screaming whistle hints The sound of shrieks and groans ; And Breaks connect themselves with Splints, Required by Broken Bones : And further as he goes a-head, Whilst all his fibres quake, His meditations may be led This Railway train to take. “Tis said we conquer Time and Space By railways—so we do; And, as in common vict’ ry "s case, With kill’d and wounded, too. As British arms on Indian plains With woful loss prevail, So fare our arms—and legs—by trains And Engines on the rail. “ Saints’ bones in several places lie, For relics, as we know ; One has a thumb, and one a thigh, Another has a toe. Now, should a saint by Railway wend, If saints are now to see, Broken, beyond all power to mend, To relics he might be. “ When, in the good old coaching days, On circuit bound, the Bar Were wont to club and hire post-chaise, So making common car ; pr:esthood. CocKk-A-DOODLE-DOOo.— When Sica was | emblem was the Cock. Lovis seems to wish i - But a thet journey t J they pe pursue Sorgen ey > = pe whe dire should strew The line with Limbs of Law “ There is a Parliament’ry train, As most are well aware; Could it sufficient souls contain The Commons all to bear, And with that precious cargo, let It travel once or twice : _ Your boroughs and your shires might get Dismember’d in a trice. “ The cause why Railway trav’llers lose ‘Their limbs to reason stands ; It is because the Boards refuse To find sufficient Hands ; Efficient Hands, that is—with sense Endow’d—not raw and rough ; Hands without issever d thence— They might pick up enough ! “ But wherefore not the Hands supply ocrt we so sadly crave ? h! don’t you know the reason why >— me - dividends to save ; Thus Parsimony 3 to Smash, Albeit business thrives ; And whilst they save their precious cash, We lose our precious lives.” | One of the Martyrs of Science. Some of the mere Polkaites and Quadrille adherents of the celebrated This shows | musical Mons. are angry with him for having shown himself superior to | the frivolities of dance music, and denounce him as JuLtien the Apostate. | should now be the N. y a warlike nation, its } wii’ \|! ‘Ma yn\l

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI 133 THE LAMENT OF “THE HERCULES,” 74. “ The Hercules, 74, has been placed at the disposal of the Emigration Commissioners | for the conveyance of emigrants to Australia”—Navat Lwretiiczsce, Times, Sep.7.” ment’s wheel ; Swab m dead-eyes, no wonder | to the keel. From my moorins they came for to tow me, Where in dry rot and sludge I was laid; Then sez I to myself, sez I, “Blow me! I’m a going to try the old | trade.” For, d’ye see, 1’m an old fighting craft, boys, And often I think of the day When my old timbers rang fore and aft, boys, To the shrill call of “ Boarders away ! 1” When blood washed my scuppers like water, And the round shot crashed into my hold; And I thought, “ My dear eyes! We'll be arter Jonwyy Crarauns, as of old.” And my old beams they creaked and they quivered, A-thinkin’ of Nzisow and Hoop, And my timbers they longed to be ‘shivered, As a true British ship’s timbers should. But when, from the maties aboard me, I heerd what the job was to be, 1’m blest but it reg’larly floored me On such work to be ordered to sea. Instead of a fighting commission To pepper the Dons and Mounseers, Or to give Yawxer Doopzz a threshin’ (Which he’s arned, any time these two years), I found ’t was some nately notion Of them ty nobs, To fit my old bull for the ocean To carry out Emigrant swabs ! *Stead of batteries of jolly gun-metal, Deuce metal for me— Except it t be a tin kettle Tomek t land-lubbers their tea. ig a ane er be oi pots hh hee You may stare, sey onch ib the ake Piso ena Stripped for work, _, and ‘mf = hee, _—-* chaps, wit ir wives t darters, they lost sight o’ the land! j If it didn’t give me such a turn, boys ;— I thought 0” capsizin’ right out, And a settlin’ down clean, head and stern, boys, Afore I’d be steered on this bout. If this here’s what old England ’s to come to, There ’s an end to her wic’ tries and wars ; And to think it’s the doins’ of some, too, ‘As wears swabs and calis themselves tars ! That there Hercures, as[’ve my name from, Twelve labours they say he went throu But Ill swear he bad not, where he came from, Such a lubberly labour to do, With these emigrant waisters—od rot ’em— Wives, darters, tin kettles, and alli— Blowed if I don’t go to the bottom In the first little rit of a squall ! & ham a young man of the Piacur on the rascally lubbers | COuntenance. Who stands at the i—~ and droo| | until he knew the youthful Hebrew whose sign-post likeness swings the truck | above. church weathereock | Hebrew would smile THE FALSE HEBREW’S FALSE JEWELS. A MODERN TALE, WITH A MORAL. Oxce upon a time—(a little while ago)—there came to Chelten- ebrew prejudice, with Hebrew cast of Black—black as lamb of Astracan—was his hair ; full rooping his nether lip ; black his twinkling eye; “his prominent | feature like an eagle’s beak |? Now there was a Christian at Cheltenham, who knew no guile— Now this Christian, being a thick-sighted man, saw, as he —_ believed, a dawning grace in that Hebrew’s countenance. == indeed, must that man have got up that morniag to have beheld that The = began to turn and turn more of his back to the | synagogue ; and more of his front to the Established Church. And the kind, butter- hearted, but thick-sighted Christian of our story, observed ( the gradual turning of the Jew: whereat he rejoiced exceedingly. And the Hebrew’s eyes would seem to grow up to, and love a certain Cheltenham ; to love it as though the weather- ll ef the gold, and not iron gilt. of the Cheltenham church rang merrily forth, the and smile, as though every silver stroke was a crown-piece dropt in his omnivorous et. And thus it continued, until the Hebrew became melted—as never even Hebrew was melted—when the rejoicmg Christian, taking the kindly moment, asked the ~~ A to be baptized. With the greatest pleasure in life: he would on) Ay he too happy- But first—but first—the brew must sell certain jewels: old, family jewels : relics of fathers and mothers in Israel. But, wherefore must the Hebrew sell or barter his family bits of gold with emeralds and of uncles deceased— and stones called cats’-eyes of aunts ? Wherefore ? the pondering Christian. lied the guileful Hebrew—because, fleeing from the syna- ted and cleaving to the Established Church, he would be spat upon scorned by all of his former tribe; and his past connexion—the Hebrew epoke with fervour—be smashed entirely. The Hebrew desired to become a Christian, bai hé must start with ready money. Now the. ‘heart of the good, ates Christian mightily —_ at this. I—said he—albeit not rich, will give you a price for gold and topazes of your uncles, and the cats’-eyes of ee — aunts. Hebrew almost wept, but—did not. It is, however, needful to the completeness of our a | to say, that he took the money. Forty of current coin did that Hebrew sack from that guileless Christian ; and then, with an oxalting coms. , kicking the dust of Cheltenham, the Hebrew departed, and Christian not vit roe els solid and real, and kled—how they e jewels looked sparkled—how and paid for, by candle _~ sparkled !—when they were bought nt the gold was Mosaic gold, jew Kk - the daylight came, ey —emhem ree Cee pe totine, p SEe a tod, ash to dha butte te Fra of he digger wakes the e to buy wn to Scart Chration ¢ Cheltenham. [MORAL. When young ladies and am who would stil] be 2 Py ‘oung gentlemen very green, old gentlemen very —_ o> Bt. Berabbes, and are shown the precious jewels of by the REVEREND mee’ Potyrcagp Buss? by cal yee x the afore- oney cock was of solid v: And when the said ladies and gentlemen seal ae the milk of the charmer, and +" make his rines their own, let them think of the bits of glass, and wait —and make no bond by be Mone wed ad the bt of gar | SETS = Moum et voum, w hich they a | eneued di | who make it their pursuit can no — see any “ mine” and thine. Tae Ewemy or Letrens.— What is the meaning of ‘ Antitype?’” asked a tutor of an undergraduate. “Louis Narouszon, | say,” replied the student. “Tus Mowkey axp tHe Tioen.”—Gewenat Harwav has arrived in Paris.

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bere ensiy hire RP stan sacri aslo 7 i RAILWAY LITERATURE. Rook-Stall Keeper. * Boox, Ma’am? Yas, Ma’am. Here’s « Popotan Worx sy of ballooning we beg to offer the following extraordinary AN EMINENT SURGEON, JUST PUBLISHED, ‘ BROKEN LEGS: AND HOW THEM ;’ on, woutp You LIK& THE Last NuMBER or ‘* THE OPERATOR ?’” TO LOUIS NAPOLEON ON THE SUPPRESSION OF “THE CORSAIRE.” Str, [ am very much afraid that what you have last done will turn out to be a great imprudence. You have burked the last glitter of intellect which displayed itself in your unhappy country; trodden out under your blood-stained hoof the latest sparks of wit which crackled among the embers of the liberty you have destroyed. What is there, people will say, you are not afraid of, now? Reasoning, you knocked on the head—remonstrance, you suppressed. And now there is to be no laughing,even! verything is to be as silent, as it has long | since been as unproductive, as the grave. My object is to remind you how imprudent this affair is. Of course, [ don’t say anything about the imgustice of it. That is, we know, not a matter of a moment’s consideration. If one talked of your honour, people would cry “question.” But your cautiousness—your common calculation, my good fellow! You have astomach—a stomach that no blood can turn: remember i/, I say. and be somewhat cautious. For you know that the loss of ire would be to you the loss of your victuals even. If you were kicked off the President’s seat, you would be put to it for a clean shirt. There’s the point which distinguishes you from the Bourbons. A Bourbon in exile has his ancestors, his manners, and his quiet gentlemanly enjoyments to console himself with. But you, my dear Lours, would fall asa poor fellow falls from a brick- ayer’s scaffold—and be a subject for a hospital. A couple of days would reduce you toa worse level than you were on before. You | would then be bi lliard-markers. Now, you see, if Paris can’t have an occasional laugh, not even that darling recreation, how will it stand the kind of thing long? You might have left it its fun. For, in truth, you had made matters dull enough. You see, you are not even a despot of espri/; the most you | can hope, is to pass for the Tom Criss, or so, of despots. Augustus had taste and brains, and Nexo played the cithara with very consider- able power. But, my dear fellow, how are you off for the means of amusing your subjects, like other fellows? You can’t stand on your : caused by cold and rain, it may occur to | life suffers from such causes, human life may be in want of | protection against similar evils. ‘There are many who would not be able to understand much inconvenience arising from the failure of the potato, who will be deeply sensible of the horrible effects of a deficiency of the vintage. The absence |of a luxury, made by custom a will perhaps | stimulate in many a dormant sympathy with those among | whom the actual necessaries of life are always difficult to obtained. : As good comes out of every evil, we have no doubt that many will be awakened, as with a voice of thunder, by this irregular shooting of the vine—this fatal but well-timed attack of grape. One of the Results of Ballooning. To those persons who are doubtful as to the advantages TO MEND fact. The Bull that went up with Mapame Porrsvuw had RAILWAY not been many minutes in the air before it was found to be turned into hung beef ! head ; for with your habits it would induce apoplexy—even if your legs were fit to display! Then why burke the really clever Corsaire, and drive people to seriousness and plotting. I appeal to your appetite— put your hand on your stomach—and say out, solemnly: Was it right ? PUNCH. Swords into Sickles, Free Trape and Emigration have compelled the farmer to call in the soldiers stationed in his neighbourhood to cut his crops. Soldiers in a time of peace have been likened, by Punch, to poppies among the corn : such poppies, so used, are very weicome. We have turned swords into sickles; may Punch ask of the Guards the loan of their helmets, to convert them into bee-hives ? THE RED CAP OF MAINTENANCE. A SUBSCRIPTION at the instance of the chiefs of the popish clergy has been set on foot to enable Da. Newman to defray the costs which he incurred by the Acutiu trial. For this purpose, then, it seems the Canpinat’s Hat is going round. A Word for Excursion Trains. GREAT complaints have lately been made of the disappointments inflicted, and deceptions practised on gers by Excursion trains. But the aggrieved parties should recollect that the object of Railway Directors in starting those trains, is to take as many people as possible in. THE STAR OF THE FRENCH STAGE. Tue French President enjoys considerable —. for dramatic |—or melodramatic—cleverness. The Parisian Press, » is _ generally of opinion that his theatrical talent principally consists in “ gag.’ Printed " William erg yy Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, and Frederick Office in Lombard Str-et, im the Precinct of Whitefriars, in the City of Londo, aad Fublished by them « Mullett Bvans, of No.7, Church Rew, Stoke Newingten, both in the of Middlesex, Printers, at their t No. &, Pleet Street.» the Parien of St. Bride's in the City of runpar, Serrewess ISth, 1957.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVART. ALL bring their tribute to his name—from her Who wears the crown to him who plies the spade Under those windows where bis corpse is laid, Taking its rest at last from all those years of stir. Years that re-moulded an old world in roar And furnace-fires of strife—with hideous clang Of battle-hammers ; where nm loudest rang, His clear sharp voice wes heard that ne’er will be heard more. Courts have a seem!y sorrow for such loss ; Cabinets politic regret: the great Will miss his punctual presence at their state— The shade of such eclipse even lowly hearths will cross. But I, a jester, what have I to do With greatness or the grave ? The man and theme comment of my may ill beseem ; So be it—yet not less do | pay tribute true. For that in him to which I wou'd bow down Comes not of honours heaped upon his head, Comes not of orders on his breast outspread — Nor yet of captain’s nor of councillor’s renown. It is that all his life example shews Of reverence for duty: where he saw Daty commanding word or act, her law With him was absolute, and brooked no quibbling glose. He followed where she pointed ; right abhead— Unheeding what might sweep across his path, The cannon’s volley, or the people’s wrath ; No hope, howe’er forlorn, but at her call he led. Victor at Trafalgar ; | TO THE BENEVOLENT—WANTED £5. |” We deep pockets that, despising the wretched distinctions between man | and man by Mammon and zo Mammon, would rescue the unfortunate. The case is simple, pathetic, but of daily occurrence. Here it is in| brief: the penny lines of the reporter put into a little silver sixpence. A young woman, named Jane Tanwer—‘a pene oe A young anf on ~ face was shockingly disfigured,”’—is unwillingly brought er mot er to Worship Street, to charge her false lover—(impulsive | popularity : creature !)—Witiiam Howioway, with an assault. FW ellington. Peace to him! Let him sleep near him who fell My Ne.son’s side WELLINGTON’s ashes fitly may abide. Great captain—noble heart ! Tail to the benevolent and liberal: to those exalted souls with | Hard as a blade so tempered needs must be, Sts exeeetianens coast of exurten , as one Whose life has dealt with stern things to be done, Not wide in range of thought, nor deep of subtlety : Of most distrustful ; sparing in discourse ; cif untiring, and from all around Claiming that force which in himself he found— He lived, and asked no Jove, but won respect perforce. And of respect, at last, came love unsough But not repelled when offered ; — an That this rare sternness bad its softness too, That woman's charm and grace upon his being wrought : That underneath the armour of his breast Were springs of ten —all quick to flow In er with childbood’s joy or woe : That climbed his knees, and made his arms their nest. For fifty of its eighty years and four Ler ey been before uv: wae tut a. short, spare frame, the eye of piercing blue, The eagle-beak, the finger reared before : In greeting ?— Well he bore his load of years, As in his daily walk he along To early prayer, or, ’mid the admiring throne, Pass’d through Whitehall to counsel with his Peers. He was true English—down to the heart’s core ; His sternness and his softness Knglish both : Our reverence and love grew with his growth, Till we are slow to think that he can be no more. Hail to thee, and farewell ! | What then? Gzonrce Surru paid the money like— ob, like a Briton! Now, what—oh, wisdom of English law—what is the difference hetween Witttsm Howutoway picking oakum on prison diet, and Groner | — — stylish, sling his way in perfect freedom? Answer— | ive Pounds! “UNCLE BULL'S CRIBBING.”—Published by Bverybody and Co. | We have little to say of this book. The work speaks for its own speaks from booksellers’ windows, railway on oe Oa a recent | bills. It is a book admirably cribbed ; beautifully stolen; magni occasion he had knocked out two of her teeth: but she had forgiven | pilfered. The writer of the book is everywhere read, admired, and him ¢hat—he had expressed such sorrow for the untoward event. Tuesday, however, he came to her, and at once asked her for money : “ She told him that she had not then a penny, when he flew into a violent passion, and dealt her such a violent blow in the face, that she became partially stunned, and | | both her eyes were swollen and contused as they now appeared. She endeavoured to escape; he then felled her to the earth, and— (his poor victim was about to become a mother !)—“ continued beating and kicking her about the body, till there was scarcely a part of her person that was not covered with bruises.” Well, the betrayed, outraged Janz TanweR would not prosecute at the sessions. “Oh, no, Sir”—she said, and the words ought to have gone like knives into Witiiam Hottowar—“ no, Sir, I can’t prosecute him: let him go es I don’t wish him to be punished.” hereupon Ho.ioway is fined “the highest amount of penalty” the law allows, namely, £5, or in default two months’ imprisonment. Hottoway could not pay the money; therefore took a ride to Coldbath Fields in the felons’ van. Now, is HotLoway imprisoned for knocking down, beating, and kicking Janz Taywen? Certainly not; he is incarcerated for not having £25 to pay for the |uxury. Had he possessed £5—with another £5 to back him—he might have departed to knock down, beat, and kick Jawz Tawwer again. A few days before at the same office, “a stylishly-dressed man, who gave the name of Gzonce Saitu” is fined 25, with the alternative of two months’ duresse, for giving an inoffensive woman two black eyes, | aud so wounding her face that “her dress was soaked with blood.” — VoL, XXIII. P On | plundered. The history of the introduction of the book to a discerning | | British public is, moreover, peculiar, original, almost touching. Wizenpe.ry, the publisher, is asked to give his straightforward, | sonest opinion of the book: in a plain, downright, candid, generous way, becoming a man and a publisher. Wizenne ry pledges himself | | to make the effort, and does it. He sits up; in the domestic temple, his ‘conjugal bed-room, he cuts the leaves, avd enters upon the work, | Wizerperty is a man of strong emotions; in a word, he is an | enlightened publisher. He laughs a! and weeps a tear alternately, as he proceeds with the Cribling, He then—as he vaunts per adver- tisement in the Times—wakes Mus. W. (whom, in bis pardonable fondness, he designates as “ rather a strong-minded woman ”’) to hear |a bit of the Oribbing: for he, in his bibliopolical—(there’s a word !)— | softness, may be betrayed into a too generous opinion. He :eads and reads; and Mrs. W. joins ber Jaugh with the laugh of W.; and with the tear of W. mingles jer tear. This decides him; the book is a great book, and the Cribbing will be a most advantageous Cribbing. Now, how many editions are there of Uncle Bull's Oribting ; and how much—how many farthings, for instance—may be paid to the American lady who merely wrote the book ? “ Pooh, poou, that’s nothing,” cries Paternoster-low. the Americans plunder us 7” Very true—answers Punch—but two blacks do not, and cannot, make one white. Or if they could and did, how lucky for America; for that single fact would at once settle her slave question. “Do not

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¥ & e § wo i) | THE FOGIE FAMILY PAPERS. THE NEW LAMP. R. FOGIE had ordered aad pud Sor the lamp that morning in the Cily, and has had it sent home lo his house. La- burnum Filla, Hammersmith, by the Parcels’ Delivery Com- pany. It arrives just as the Footes are conclud- ing dinner, The Your family consists of old Mus. Foote, age a mystery even to the census « collector; Mr. Foste, & the father of the family, —— age 4); Maus. Fvcie, =——— Juw., the mother of the family, «ge ‘by her own account) 3); Miss Wr-| TERBOTTOM, sister to Mus. Foote, Juws., oge (by her own account) 3\ : | but, as she was born four years before Mas. Foate, Jus., on the authority of the Family Bible, there is cleorly an error somewhere ; Master Samurt Foote, oge 4, son and heir of the Footes; Miss| Emma Foote, age 24, daughter of the house. And, om the day the New Lamp arrived, they had to dinner Mr. und Mrs. Rammer, | on a visit from the country. The tart and jelly are on the table, and | the little Foates have sust been admitted. i kater Jxmes, the indefinite boy (who waits, looks after the horse and | chaise, and makes himself generally useful to the Pocres). James. Please, it’s a box by the Parcels’ Delivery, and there’s sixpence. | Mr. Pogie (with excitement), Oh, here—(gives sixpence); bring it im, James. (To the whole table cheerfully and eagerly.) \t’s the lamp. Old Mrs, Fogie ‘who does not believe in lamps, otherwise than as dangerous and explosive contrivances). The lamp, Joun ? 7 Mrs. Fogie, jun. (w.th a shade of severity and intense surprise), What | lamp, my dear ? Biter James with a bor carefully ‘nailed and corded. The young | Footes, with the instincts of childhood, rush upon it, and Master Sam, who is of an inquiring turn, has dlteady purloined a fork from the s:deboard, and has made considerable way towards w enching uff the pr ngs by inserting it under the lid. Mr. Fogie (still excited, but with a mixture of that embarrassment which belongs to every man who has done such a thing without the previous know- ledge of his wife). Why, my dear, they are so very cheap and simple, on give so much more light than candies, and [ thought it would be so useful— : Mrs Fogie, jun. (with coldness). 1 wish you had told me you wished to bay something for the house, Joun, and [ would have given you a} list of things we real/y want (with a cutling emphasis on the “ really,” which makes Mr. Fooir thoroughly ashamed of hinse'/). Mr. Fogie. Weil, my dear, | thought—you know— Old Mrs. Fogie (with deep concern). On, my dear! only think—the | blacks they make; and then the servants never can clean "em; an didn't one explode the other day at Hampstead over two young men? ‘Shakes her head ruefully. | Rammer. Oh, that was camphine ! Mr. Fogie ( glad to divert the conversation). Yes; aud this is vegetable | oil, you know—costs next to nothing, and no spirit in it, so it can’t | explode, mother ; don’t you see ? Old Mrs Fogie, Ah, well! my dear. I’m sure I hope not; but, as for “can’t,” there’s no saying what they may do, those lamps. I'm sure when your poor dear father once— Mr Fogie (who knows what this promises—jumping up). Well, but | only look at it. It’s the neatest, simplest thing—here— ( Pushes away his pla‘e and is rushing to the bor Ur. Fogie. Now then, James, get the screw-driver. Eh? Hoilo! Discovers the fork inserted by Master Sau.) Confound that boy! if he hasn't gone and twisted the fork prongs off trying to open the box. (The detected Samvuet indulges in cn an/icipatory wail) \|’ve a good! mind—(he is diverted from his parental intentions by the arrival of | James with the screw-driver, All crowd round the bor and Mrs Foate expels t/e little ones) Oh, give it here. } PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI Urs. Foie, jun. (interested in spite of herself.) Now do be careful, Jous ; it says “ giass— with care.” Ur Pogie (prizing at the lid). Confound these nails! Old Mrs. Fogie (who has a passion rAd making things useful in a way never contemplated by their makers). Mind you don’t split the lid, Jou. It will do beautifully to keep the p’ckles in, my dear (fo Mas. Focre, jun), with a padlock, you know. I’ve got one somewhere. Rammer (who is of an impetuous and hasty nature), Try the poker, Foeie; you'll n ver get it open with that nfernal—— Urs. Ramuwer (whose | fe is spent in recalling Raman to a sense of his i Josaua! (Al follow Pocte’s efforts with intense interest, but with considerable diversity of opinion.) Mrs. Fogie, jun. Knoek it up, Joy. Old Mrs. Fogie, Ob, mind! Now, James, you put in the end of the hammer. Wiss Winterbottom. Fo:ce it down, Jouy. Rammer, Here, ll settle it in a crack. “Seizes the lid and is about to settle it. Mrs. !ammer (severely). Josnva! Ramuer is recalled to a sense of his situation, and abandons his intention towards the box. Pogie (after violent but ill directed efforts, with the aid of James and { the advice of the whole party, has succeeded in getting the lid off in several preces). Here you are, Rammer (about to plunge violently into the straw). Now for it ! Mrs. Fogie. Oh, Ma. Ramues do mind—pray. It says, “ glass— with care!” You’ll break everything. Mrs. Rammer. Josuva! “Ramer abandons the attempt. Ur. Fogie (in much excitement, handing out the contents of the box, and making a dreadful litter of straw), Here—mind—those are the chimneys —take care with the globe. Old Mrs. Fogie (taking her usual ominous view of things), Ah, my dear, there ’\l be sad breakage, you ’li see. r. Fogie. Uere’s the stand, and here ’s the reservoir. Here—oh no—here are the wicks, and here are the scissors. Old Mrs. Fogie. Ah! dear, dear! what a quantity of things, to be sure! It’s always the way with these lamps. Mr. Fogie (getting to the bottom of the bor). And here’s the oil-can— the cheapest thing! Rammer. By Jove! Now then—let’s put it all together. Old Mrs. Fogie. That’s the stand, there; and here’s something ‘ ‘curiously examining the reservoir). Rammer (impetuously seizes :t). That’s the reservoir. Old Mrs. Fogie. Now do mind it doesn’t explode, for they ’re never to be depended on. The lump is gradually approaching completeness, Miss Winterbottom (with the dignified curtosity of a superior woman, who has attended several courses at the Literary and P ical Society, Hammersmith). What. is the principle of the lamp, Joy Mr. FPogie. Oh, the simplest thing possible, Anwwe. You see that rack. (All observe intently; old Mas. Focts shakes ker head sadly.) Well, there’s a spring inside—[ don’t mean inside the rack, but inside the cylinder—here ; and then there’s a piston somewhere. Mrs. Rammer (in her literal way). Where? Mr. Fogie (not quite so clear). Oh—imside; you've all seen a steam engine ? te sac i Th k hat a piston i 7. bogie (leaping to a conclusion). Then you know what a piston is, of course. Well, you put in the orl, and the piston forces it up; you know you’ve wound it up first—I mean, wound the rack up—and as the spring works, the oil is sucked up by — attraction. Miss Winterbottom (who recognises the word). Yes, 1 understand (to Mas. Foaie, with an air of calm superiority), it’s the priciple that melts sugar in tea, my dear Jane. We had it beautifully explained in Ma. Tooo.es’s last course at the Institution. Mrs. Fogie. Yes; it’s all very well for you, Awwe, who take an | interest in science, and chemistry, and that sort of thing, but I’m not at all eure that | quite understand zow how it all works. : Mr. Fogie (who does not feel very strong in the internal machinery of the lamp). Ov! never mind that, my dear, it’s the simplest thing to use ; in fact, it’s the Carcel principle, you know. Old Mrs. Fogie (whose forebodings have been much increased by the description of her som). Ab! well, my dear, l’m sure I hope it will all be for the bes*, but in your poor dear father’s time— Mr. Fogie (cutting her off as usual at this point), Now then, let's pour in the oll. Where ’s the funnel ? : —y Mrs, Fogie, jun. Now, pray, Jouw, let me do it; you'll spill it all over the table cover. Rammer (impetuous as usual). Here—here—now then, I’l] pour—you ho'd—there. “Mas. Foots holds funnel, RamMMeER pours, Rammer. Say when, Mrs. Foci. ' Urs. Fogie. Oh, stop, stop, it’s all over the table. Rammer. Confound it! [Tries to mop up the otk with a piece of paper. Mrs. Rammer. Josuva! “With much difficulty the oil is brought to a stand still, after making a mess on the table, Ad pause, Poois lights a match exultingly. stlualion |

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI Otd Mrs. Fogie (whose fears of explosion are incessant.) O., my dear—| please —do mind the light. Now, pray, Joun (Foere makes ineffectual attempts on the wick Mrs. Fogie Are there not direc’ ions for use somewhere ? Mr. Fogie Yes, I know there were some. Eh? (sees paper with which Rammer has tried to wipe up the oil, and seizes it.) Here they are—er— all over that infernal ol; here—(reads) “ Directions for trimming :— Wind up the lamp a few minutes before lighting it.” Eh? ah—what a pity we didn’t wind it up 4 few minutes before. | Rammer. Wind it up! a Sa Mrs. Fogie. But it says afterwards, “ The first time the lamp is filled, | the oil does not ascend to the burner for ten minutes.” —(Dictatorially), We must wait for ten minutes. Miss Winterbottom know. ; Rammer, Now, wind away, Foote, or it will never light. Miss Winterboitom,. You'\\ s-e it will be no use. [FuGre és irresolude. Mra. Fogie. Vake,the globe off before you do anything, or we shan’t! sce, whem. the.oil gets tothe wick. Miss Winterbotiom, Ob, it’s sure to,get there by capillary attraction, but if you takeoff the chimney, the oxygen may get. to, it and prevent, combustion. Rammer. (who. hasbeen turning silently at the rack). Farrah), here’s theailerall over.the top of the wick! Loteofit! Now them, Fucts,. Binseaway.! Mrs. Rammes, Josas ! Mr. Fogie (joyously). Now then, off with the chimney with. match at wick, but succezding at last in lighting iw), are. Rammer (never satisfied with things as they are). Now, turn him up Mrs. Fogie No, no, that’s the rack handle. Miss Winterbottom. No, the other turns up the wick—that’s the wrong way. Mr. Fogie, Now. da be quiet, Anz, will you? He’s right enough. | Mrs Rammer. Hadn't you better put on the chimmey ? (appealing to her directions.) It says. (reading) “ Put ou the chimney, whied fits in a | sliding holder, and so.adjistat as tolet the shoulder be a little higher | than the eot’on.” Mrs. Fogie. Sroulder?, Where's. the shouldex ? Mr Foge, Ow! that's the.thing.it fits in, Miss Winterbotiom,. No, that’s the slider, Jonm, Rammer. No, no; the shoulder’s the swell of the chimney ; there, you see, if | put it up the flame rises (procerds to demonstrate, and burns his fingers). Confound it, I’ve burnt my fingers! O11! da-— Mrs Ranmer (very awfully). Josaca'!! ‘Josavua swallows his expletives and submits to his burnt fingers as he best may. Mr. Fogie (finally settling the g/obe, and with an air of supreme satis faction withdrawing a few paces). There we are! Delightful light ! isn’t it ? Mrs. Fogie, jun. Well, Joun, dear, it is a very nice light, certainly. All Oh, delightful ! Old Mrs. Fogie. Ah! but when it come to the cleaning, and the ser- vants, and the danger—ah ! Shakes her head most propheticaliy Mrs. Fogie, jun But you must admit, Mamma, it’s a beautiful light! Miss Winterbottom. And so beautifully scientific in its principles! Mr. Figie ¥xactiy—and so simple! Old Mrs. Fogie Ah, my dears ! All look on cheerfuliy at the first performance of the New Lamp except Mus. Foote, who is left shaking her head No, but that’s after it’s wound up, you ( fumbling There you THE WISDOM OF WISEACRES THERE are two principles on which the Income Tax may be levied O.e is the common-sense principle, which it is unnec*ssary to ex lain. The other is the mathematical prineiple—thus stated by “ R.,” a corre- spondent of the Times :-— “ That it is to be levied on what we call productive property only—that is, on property which, as a whole, under the influence of the industry of the people, is found to aequire a certain increase in a certain interval of time.” What is this but the proposition that the subject of taxation ought to be Industry alone? Industry says se bad rather not—would oo to divide the burden with idl-mess. Mathematicians are c'ever ellows at building demonstrations on dafa, bit they sometimes take for dxta things that are not granted. They have progressed so far in their own science as to have forgotten its first elements, and they reason upon postulates that, instead of being self-evident, are ridiculous. BAD ORNITHOLOGY THe Munster News contradicts a report that the Eau. or Duwmavew had been “ received into the Catholic Church.” For the Dua Raven, perhaps, the reporter mistook some Green Goose. | honour from his association with the “ Cat!” PEACE AND WAR—HOT AND COLD one side of its mouth, and with the other side most vehemently threatens, It at once talks milk and honey—tire and bullets. Invasion ! what folly! We love liked, pitch into her ? Invasion! May our hands never be outstretched but to clasp Englishmen, and —if they provoke us, roll ’em in the dirt, tread upon ’em, march over ‘em, annihilate "em. Invasion! May we never visit London but with the palm-branch avenge Waterloo ? Invasion! May the soik of Eng- of hostility, but—let England re- member tat the new. screw-ehip Nopoleon —with tweniy others— could at a thought land 1500 men upon Dover b ach, and England was never invaded but she was conquered. Bicess her, we say, but let her tremble. In this fashion does F cance give as fire would kiss gunpowder. DUBLIN REVIEW. Our own Correspondent informs us that the Irish Brigade was reviewed. yesterday in Phoenix Park, with a view to its preparation for the approaching campaign, by the General of the Jesuits The whole troop marched by the distinguished officer with their colours—seariet—flying. Their uniform—pea green with scarlet facings —presented a gay and motley appearance. Afier having performed the usual evolutions of falling in, and out, uniting to act in a body, separating as light skirmishers, lying in ambush, and circumventing the enemy, they exhibited the spectacle of a sham fight One of their moet striking maneuvres was the reception of a charge of tailors and hotel-keepers, which they repulsed with great galiantry, | to the heavy loss of the assailants ant fired several vollies of vituperation and invective with wonderful effect. In interchanging a discharge of blank jokes they showed much com- posure, and, it is hoped, will behave valiantly under the fire of contempt and ridicule which awaits their projected onslaught upon the British Constitution. The auxiliary Puseyite and Destructive Syuadron was present, in order to take a lesson in tactics. A strong corps of mental reserve was also on the field. The Commanding Officer expressed himeelf satisfied with the ap- pearance of the Brigade, but it was generally remarked that they looked extremely ill-conditioned. The ceremonies conc!uded with a Royal Saute to the representative of the Pontifical Toe. Tbe renowned Brass Band was in atiendanc ’, and performed appro- priate airs; the forces retiring from the ground to the celebrated Marcia di Briccone. A Line or two for Railway Passengers. Raruway Amalgamation is one of the prime causes of railway acci- dents. if the Companies were to run against each other more than they do, the trains would not so often come in contact. If there were less of collusion, we should certainly have less of collision, Haynau and Histor. Harwav, not long ago, expressed himself to the effeet that he left the vindieatim of his character to “ Hi ." Thiswe submit to be a de}usion of the General's. He has observed how History reeords the career of “ Wurttixetos,” and thinks that he, too, will be held in T the idea of France invading Eng- | land, the Constitutionnel \aughs on | England, but—couldn’t we, if we | —and wouldn’t our holy bayonets | land remain unpolluted bythe fuot | the kiss of peace to England, Even |

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rt ot ape amanlgoteamR er ta sansa emer atceade as oe * se Par tel ng a a iT ak Poa uae ; ty “ie NRT sng as ee ecient ni ~n : Oe, ea aap a erly anv nen nota. oh te se 138 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. | a WAY gl hi aA \ N\A \ P ) | } ' o. AWA nN ye » A - " ‘\y / f= 2° ae é = A A SKETCH AT RAMSGATE. Ellen (who loves a joke at Aunt Fiveer’s expense). “‘Goop eractous, AUNT! THERE aRE TWo Orvicers!” Aunt Fidget (a short-sighted lady). “ Burss me, 30 THERE ARE! WELL; THEY MAY BEB OFFICERS, BUT THEY ARE NOT GENTLEMEN, I’M SURE, OR THEY WOULDN'T STAND LOOKING aT US IN THAT ImpUDENT Maywyer.” KING CHOLERA TO HIS LIEGE FRIENDS IN ENGLAND. To his true English friends *Gainst serfs and poor slaves, Boards of Guardians so true, Kuve Cuorera sends And frowsty Jew knaves, Boards of Health who pooh-pooh, A rip of his blue five fingers ; Starveling peasants and that sort of cattle— And laugh to scorn doctors and drainers—. ith a piece of his mind, He’d be really ashamed Who self-government As, awaiting a wind, If folks think he has claimed Not to govern at all— On the Baltic shore he lingers. Any credit for winning the battle. Of the great cause of dirt stout maintainers ; Who, when orders come down x a ee 4 England's .* oe Fer cumnaing Anon n the wings of doom, ere he strips for the race, . —? ‘ . (In the course which observers foresaw) And girds up his loins for his struggle ; Wish to = by what right they ’re dic- He has swept to the west, There, he fights hand to hand, T ier ne ines and b . And is now at rest _ E’en when into the land jos 4 ner fats to toe — or a breathing-time at Warsaw. His virus he’s managed to smuggle. And declare they don’t want to be prated to. From his head-quarters there, With its press, and its wealth, While this troop of friends He 's been taking the air, And its curs’d Boards of Health, Kine Cuorera defends, And enjoying his usual diversion : Its sewers, and drains, and inspectors— Let who will attempt to disarm him - To Silesia, sourh, Who, wherever he goes, There’s the old fever nest, North, to Vistula’s mouth, Will keep poking their nose, With its victims of pest— And to Dantzic has made an excursion. And presuming to act as detectors. The old sights—the old smells—still to Bat, in countries like these, Were it not for his friends . a. Full of fever and fleas, Whom this greeting he sends From the far Baltic shore Ere he comes half his victory’s won for | He fears he’d have no chance in Britain ; He greets you once more, im ; But these friends, by luck, Old friends, still be sturdy and mulish ; What need of his cramps, Are conveniently stuc On sel ee stand, When the ditches and damps In the seats that his foes fain would sit And let him sweep the land, And be still penny-wise and pound-foolish ! Already his business have done for him ° in :— | | | | } |

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a ~ THE DIGNITY OF THE WORKING OFFENDED ! To the Rigut Hon. Lory Jonn Manwens. CLASSES Y Nozsre Losp,—I now take the liberty of addrissing your Lordship, because everybody says that your Lordship ought to have been e a Commis- sioner of Sports and Pastimes. My Lord, Sin J. W. Remsven, Bart., as your Lordship may be aware, came of age the other day. To celebrate that happy event, it was announced by handbill that certain prizes were to be competed for at Longley Hall ; valuable prizes, some of them: one, a Set of Donkey-Cart Harness; another a Silver Watch; another a China Tea Service and Tray; another, may it please your Lordship, a Pig. The proposed games were a Donkey Race: capital fun, you know, my Lord ; Climbing a Pole: very amusing, your Lordship; a Wheeibarrow Race Blindfold ; a Hurdle Race on Foot ; and a Donkey Tournament: all ea old English Sports, my , particularly the last— says you. Then there was to a come a variety of leaping and foot-racing— including a Sack Race ; followed by Bell in the Ring, a Pony Hurdle Race, and a Foot Steeple Chase; the whole to conclude with Hunting a Pig yg chasing a pig, trying which can catch him, and swing him ro his head by the tail; pretty diversion, if not what you call intellectual; and very epalilyio to gentlemen lookers-on— especially as the pig’s tail is greased.’ Now, my Lord, wouldn’t your Lordship say this was just the right thing; reviving ancient relations with the humbler classes,’ customs; ‘cultivating friendly to use the elegant language of genteel newspapers. Were n't all these the very games and sports which the genuine Old English PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARITVARE. i4l _Paixce or Waxes were to come of next week, and the QuEEN were to ask the ae in honour of the uccasion, to practise old English sports in Hyde Park. Fancy the chivalrous Ministry riding a ‘Donkey Tournament,’ or racing in sacks. Conceive the Lords and Commons at ‘Bell in the Ring,’ or the Bench of Bishops | ere | ! my Lord, to think of a Bishop hunting a pig! I told that philosopher fellow that he shouldu’t talk so. ‘ But,’ says he, ‘wh not? | know it’s beneath the dignity of Bishops, and Lo an —— to play such fooi’s tricks. Beneath their dignity—that’s it! | Weil, where lies their dignity ? In their !awn-sleeves, ribands, acres ? |No. In that which elevates them above the fool—in that which renders them superior to the jxckass—understanding, knowledge. we, Huddersfield working-men, have souls above donkey rac ey are our dignity, I should think. I dare say Sia J. W. RamsDEN means weil; but how would he like,on the Pamvce coming of age, as aforesaid, to be invited by Hex Masesry to climb a pole for & leg of mu ton ?” “ What state of things are we coming to, my Lord, when common fellows think and talk like this? Not old English times over again, L am afraid, your Lordship. [ remember when a lout would have thought bimseif highly henoured if requested by a gentleman to grin | | through a horse-collar. Those days will never return, your Lordship ; ‘ah, no! my Lord; the clowns and bumpkins have lost nearly all that respect and reverence they breeches ; very shocking, this, to “Your Lordship’s humble servant, “ Powpenrurr,” HYMEN AND LOUIS NAPOLEON. A vornm of ition has been considerately drawn up by Louis NaPoLeon circulated throughout France—a petition to be si by the labouring classes, praying, heartily praying, that the Pre will rte ee to become an — “The man of God”—as piously designated by the Bisuor or Cuatons—is entreated to cap the dignity with a dindem. He has only to consent, and we doubt not that another dove will duly brin conten ampoulle—in bumble imitation of the dove that bh 82. Lovis—full of the holiest oil, to the President’s head, that his uncle’s crown (toosmall, no doubt, for his nephew’s may, with a little wriggling in the hands of Mother Chureh, be to slip on, and fit. This, however, by the way. One of the great fireside reasons for calling upon the President to become is, that he may settle eg ep — a marriage, at some time or other sure to agitate the pate breast o the labourer for his little one— Gentleman in the song would have delighted in, and most likely have had acted at his own majority? Could any ceremonies have been more fit and proper ? Of course your Lordship would expect that if you had been in Sin J. W. Ramspen’s place, all the Longley clowns and clod- poles would have flung up their hats for you, made a bonfire in your| honour, danced round it, and drunk your health with nine times nine, | as in gratitude and duty bound. And you would naturally suppose, my Lord, you would have been applau and praised by the whole) neighbourhood sky-high ' “ Instead of that—what does your Lordship think? A ‘crowded | ay meeting, —crowded, my Lord !—was ‘held in the Philosophical |, Huddersfield’—I am copying a newspaper advertisement—‘ on | Thursday Evening, September 9'h,’ at which the following disrespectful | resolution was passed unanimously :-— “* That while this meeting highly approves of amusements for the working classes, | whose |.bour makes recreation at once necessary and useful, it would yet record its strong conviction that the increasing intelligence and general culture of the age demand that such sports and amusements be at least healthful avd innocent, and tend | as far as possible to elevate the tastes, and promote the well-being, physical and | moral, of the people.’ | “ And then, my Lord, these terrible fellows also resulved :— “* That this meeting has seen with deep regret the announcement of a programme of sports for the amusement of the people, in celebration of the majority of Sin J. W. Ramspen—sports which are, this meeting believes, of a highly objeectionavle character, worthy only of an uncivilised age and people; and it hereby desires to give expression to its indignant sense of the degrading estimate of the tastes, intelligence, and cha- racter of the working population of this town implied in such programme, and recom- mends, further, that out of self-respect and regard for the moral well-being of the community, the working classes, generally, will abstain from all participation, even as spectators, in the sports at Longley Hall, on Wednesday next.” “Shocking chaps! my Lord. Fancy, your Lordship, these mechanics, | tinkers, tailors, cobbiers, and weavers, turning philosophers, and | ‘Philosophical Hail.’ meeting and passing resolutions—knocking out a Baronet’s eye—in a Only think of these fellows presuming not only to despise the amusements of our anc: stors, but also flying in the ‘ace| of a man of title, who, they say, has come into a million of money! || “Considering that with a President for 10, 15, or 20 years, the father of a family cannot foresee under what political the boy or girl new growing up between his knees may be married,” Now this is a question, or rather consideration, that even now interests French boys and girls, if there are such beings; for we have | always considered them as lit‘le men and women. It is a point with Junes, aged four, whether he shall marry Hoarenss, rising three, under a republican despotism, or an empire. Poor little JuLes; how can he for future housekeeping? Sweet Honrerss—in maiden meditation, sucking her little thumb—how can she decide u the fashion of her ‘rousseau ; for what might serve for a Presi would be very mawoais ton for an Emperor. It is supposed that all the boys’ and girls’—we mean all the little men and womens’—boarding-schools will petition the President, at momentous "once and for ever, (all things are done for ever in France,) to settle the question. Echo answers “When!” Tw Constitutionnel, in an article full of benevolent hopes that the may not know the misfortunes of an invasion, goes on to add y | to have for large property and leather that nothing is easier, and that “ England has always been conquered | when a foreign army set foot on her soil.” The word “when” qualifies most materially the force of this sentence, as far as ‘he present , ee is concerned. The actual possessors happening to be the ecendants of the conquerors, defeats the force of the suggestion that England is to be vanquished by any one who sets foot on her soil, When an enemy sets foot there, we may expect Hngland to knoek | under; but not till then. We suspect that any foreign enemy trying the experiment would find he had set his foot in it indeed. WE BEG TO SECOND THE AMENDMENT.- A veny literal and illiterate gentleman suggests that, as all the asked one of these philosophers what he objected to in such very Frenehman has left of his “/ga/i/é” is his Lagle, the word should suitable recreations for the People; and bis answer was, “Suppose the, be spelt now “ Hagle.ité.””

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coca veg, es tm os | a pa ne rls renee owe ili po ti So. ety Beebe a 142 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL AN UNMARKETABLE MARKET. OME remedies, as we all know, | countenances to such an expedient. Everybody admits that Smithfield Market is an evil that ought to be put down: but there are some persons strongly of opinion that to take it away from the heart of the City, and lay it down in the bosom of an elegant little suburb, is some- thing like extracting a carbuncle from a groggy old gentleman’s nose and transplanting it to a delicate young lady’s cheek. If a cattle-market is out of place in the atmosphere of Smithfield, it | will certainly be—with its million | odours—a little trop fort for the! balmy air of Camden New Town. If over-driven bullocks are) unpleasant in a crowded street, they will be scarcely more accept-' able in the squares and terraces leading to villa residences; and if an/| eccentric ox is an unwelcome visitor at a wine-vaults or a china-shop, | he will be equally objectionable as a dropper in among the congregation | of a quiet subur chureh, It seems bat the intend+d site of the! new cattle-market is a nice genteel little neighbourhood, inhabited by | persons who seek repose there from the turmoils of the City. They are, however, to be reminded of the struggles and noise of a town life | by animal lowing and human bellowing—by the barking of dogs and the snarling of drovers—by, in fact, Smithfield Market and all its horrors being brought home to their very doors, or occasionally into their very | windows, if an infuriated beast taxes it into its head and horns to | bave a glance at the Home Circle. | We admit the difficulty of finding any place in which a cattle- | market would not be out of place, but we think it rather hard | upon the inmates of a httle colony of suburban villas that their retirement should be invaded by the drover and his herds, the | slaugbterman and his victims, the butcher and his boys. Pastoral | life admits certainly of a taste of the bucolic, but a cattle-market, with all its filth and dirt, would imvest a semi-rural neighbour. hood with a little too much of the couleur locale. \t is easier to say where the market ought not to be than to suggest where it ought to be, for even when “an open spot at a distance from town ” is spoken of as | the proper site, it i« still a very open question where such an open spot | ante found. Smithfield is going a begging: there is, as it were, «| great nuisance in the market, and we are not surprised that nobody ir willing to have it at any price. A LOOMER! A SYBIL!! AND A SEER!!! | Mr. Disrazui for some time past has been a Loomer—in former | days his name was connected with a celebrated work, calied the SyBit | —and now, in the words of Mr. Lippe, he is “a Seer.” Such a) combination of prophetic qualities was never yet known in a person, | who followed, as a profession, the art of conjuring. What “ Wizard of the North” can compete with him? What double-sighted yout! can see so far into the future as he can? What “ Mysterious Lady’ can foretell balf as many things as our wonderful CuanceLLox OF THY Excuequer? Blindfold him, and he will tell us everything that 1s going to happen for the next ten years. Horace tells us: “ Carpe | diem,” —but our Great Loomer is not satisfied with seizing to-day ; Le | wishes to seize this day twelvemonth as well. What wonderful things we shall see when Parliament opens! The future wil! be unroliec before us, like a tailor’s pattern-book, and we sball be able to choose what we please: “ Ropin’s Soirées” will be deserted in favour o! Dispaeii's, and England will be proud of having a CHANCELLOR OF THE Excarquer who is such an astonishing conjuror—a_ perfec! ee in his way, with three heads—a Loomer! a Sybil! ! and « rit! Hear, Hean!—The Times lately observed, that there was a bligh' in the crop of rising political talent. This seems odd, when we consider the promise in the way of cars! | “Whar’s m= a Name?”—The nuisance of being continual!) | bothered for your autograph.— Widdicomd are worse than the disease; and, | though a slight bruise on the arm | might be lost sight of im a smart | counter-irritation got up about the | eyes and nose, there are few who! would, in their own cases, give their | HYMNS FOR CHILDREN. BY DR. CAHILL. 1. How doth the ever busy wasp Improve the shining hour ; His object ever is to grasp The sweets of fruit and flower. To dip his beak into the peach, To pierce the ripen’d plum ; To suck whatever is in reach, To sting whoe’er may come ! | So, children, you should ne’er forget This insees’s happy toil ; Before you his + xample set, what you can’t eat, spoil. Il. Waar, children, do you hesitate To let your ; assions rise P Those little hands of yours were made To seratch out British eyes ! CHILDREN’S PLAYFUL RHYMES. By rae Same. Humerty-pumprty sat on the wall, Humpty shot the landlord tall— Heretic’s horses, heretic’s men, Can’t set that landiord up again! Sine a song of sixpence about a little lie, Dexsy killed an [rsh child and baked it ina pie; When the pie was open’d, the Queen for joy did/sing, And thought it just the very dish to set before a king ! Hey diddle-diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The Pops invented the moon; The Protestants laughed, to the Vatican went, And bolted away with a spoon ! Note.—The Doetor has directed that the above shall be circulated, by means of a classic rescript addressed to country priests. “Quod carmina munc ad vos per twopenny postum transmissa, apud juvenalibus pueros, ac-rrimo studio, a li instanter legantur | (Signel) Cann.

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} | has not only t | trait figures on the exterior _ mental look of reproachful | honour of the distinguished gentleman himself, and | the Down, and the Luggage-train said, when they all rap THE BALL AT MR. DISRAELI’S FOOT. Drsrakii has attained to’quite a dizzy height of fame. After having the first place but one in the Cabinet, he made an addition to Bane ae = also ultiplication in the musie-shop windows, where his por- | toa : a a delineat oy as 8 sort of “ Beauty of the Budget,” with a curiously senti- | saiorbele blended wittvdisdain, | The Polka has been com ip is directed at vacancy. styled the Caancenuorn oF THE Excurquer’s Polka hat connection, however, there is between dancing and Disrazii does not appear; he has a reputation — but we cannot as judge of his steps: and y see i efully in the second position, According * should be ordered by “ every lover dance music;” aud might hence be inferred to be a musical novelty, but a correspondent asks whether it is not our old friend Jim Crow again under a new name? It might perhaps equelly well be conjectured to be Sitch a Gettin’ up Stairs with another title. When the CoanceLion or THE ExcHEQuER’s Polka comes to be danced in Novem- is certainly more bable i in. | name is generally i ber next, it ay veneer a gern oar The young clerk who frequents the Till willsoon find his way to the Compter. The betting man is a downy-bird, cipal movement will be rotatory, and that the Right Honourable Gentleman and his partner will y turn about and wheel about from Prot: ction to Free Trade. ‘The | black | CHANCELEOR oF THE Excuequen’s Polka is offered at the cost much more than that altogether—when we come to pay the piper. The men Oblivion—where there is always room for whatever has to | be buried there. “ WHEN SHALL WE THREE MEET AGAIN?” as the Up, | into one another at the junction. BALLOON NEWS. Ba.Loon ascents are now so numerous that we expect the air will, before long, be navigated as much as the sea. fh that case an aérial Lioyd’s will be requisite; balloons will have to be insured no Jess than ships: and persons will not venture in a balloon that is advertised for a long voyage, unless it is properly entered as Al on the Ballooning List. The newspapers will be obliged to devote a certain 1 by the side of their Sh Intelligence to a new feature called into existence by the he navigation of Balloons. Under this new head of “ Ballooning Intelligence,” we fancy we read, in two years hence, the following particulars :— NOTICE TO AERONAUTS / FIXED LIGHT AT THE TOP OF STRASBURG CATHEDRAL. The French Government bas given notice, that for the fnture « fixed light will be established on the summit of Strasburg Cathedral. This light will be visible at the | distance of 15 miles. In return for this great consideration, the French G trustfully hopes that all aéronauts will steer as clear of the Spire as possible, as the shocks against it have materislly shaken its strength, and rendercd its salety a matter of great uncertainty. NOTICE, If the Balloon that was wrecked last Monday night on the top of Langham Church is not cleared away from its present elevation within ten days from the preseat notice, it will be sold to defray the expenses. Lowvon, Sept. 19.— Wind at noon, N.E., strong breeze, cloudy, and foggy . at 10 p.m. N.E_N. Ricumowp.— The French Bailoon, Gobemouche, fell in the Thames near the Castle. Passengers came off with a ducking. Balloon gone noone knows where. The calf killed. Putwey.—The Syiph, of Guildford, put in at the Seven Bells for brandy-and-water The bailoun then rose, and sailed gracefully in the direction of Hammersmith, leaving the donkey they took up behind them. Cowrs.—A strange balloon over bere, supposed to be the Minories, of London, at 6 p.m., and distributed a shi wer of handbilils belonging to “ Nosme axp Son.” Woumwoono Scaunss.—The monster balloon, Bedlam, of Cremorne Gardens, landed bere in a most distressed condition sbowt 3am. The 38 passengers more dead than alive. Every effort made to save the hippopot » but suff d by getting its ——— the balloon, and not being able to get it out again. Balloon « complete wreck. Exvixip.—A parachute, with a bull-dog inside, fell through a gentleman's con- | servatory about two miles from here. The proprietor, a lawyer, threatens to prosecate the #6 onaut if he only ascertains bis name. Buil-dog exceedingly savage upon learning | | who his host was. ! S i : : egs. hat’s the odds so long as you’re*happy ?’—but we doubt if those odds are to usual charge for such articles, but, we fear, will be found to be Lo ~d oor | horses that run. We hear of “ rting cribs,” and we should say a betting-ho i of A GRAVEYARD THAT CAN NEVER BE OVERCROWDED.— | greatest Cribs of the kind bs, y ting-house is one of the If servants do bet, we should not blame them so much, for they only follow to ecm ot tle Ca illing bet is a daugh A.lark will sing all the better if a pa of turf is put in his cage, but before a | man can get any singing out of the turf, PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. ; 143 | | MAXIMS FOR THE BETTING BOOK, 4 gE 4 ci an i It would not be bad | Berry Mamriy,” as that lady’s that’s generally found upon the turf, with ing card,” who didn’t turn up a knave. who run to Boulogne are not saddled with debt so much as one half the ter that will ruin the richest father. he has to pay very dearly for his lark. Kexwinotow Common.—A big ege fell on a gentleman's head who was here. Supposed to have fallen trom the ostrich suspended from the Folly, that at 5p.n. from the Bower Saloon. The gentleman, quite overcome with this uneggs pected ovation, left instantly to seek re-dress. Osnonwe.—The Nassau, from Vauxhall Gordens, Commopore Green, looked in here | for five minutes, whilst the Royal party was at dinner, and played '' (od save the Queen” in the air, with three military bands. It returned agaim in the evening, at 10 p.m., and discharged its light cargo of fireworks. BALLOONS SPOKEN WITH. | The Tom Fool, from Rosherville Gardens, for a spot where it could land, Sept. 19th, in the peeniage Weils Road, The Gull, from the North Woolwich Tea-Gardensyfor any landing-place but the | Thames, Sept. 20, in the Isle of Dogs. The Canard, from the Hippodrome, Paris, for weormfield where it could drop its | elephant with safety, Sept. 21, in the Park of St. Oloud. The balloon, Carrier Pigeon, from Vauxttall Gardens, for the Autipodes, | June 6, in the middle of the desert. The Carrier Pigeon signalled it bad « drunken man on board that it was anxious to ship into another balloon. The Kari Rosse, from the Greenwich a to make discoveries in the Moon, July 22, at an altitude of 11,066 feet above the We may return to this subject, as we have |unatic expectations of seeing, some day, a line of which will start every quarter of an apie pee cae and carry passengers for “ 3d, all the way !” Equity made Easy. Govenwaent will have that the more equitable adjustment of the Income ‘Tex is impossible. But nothing that is at all conceivable, is wholly impossible ; only possible more or less. Now, which is the less possible operation, the re-adjustment of the Income Tax, or its collection in its present iniquitous shape? Lf the taxers can’t tell, pernaps the | | payers will let thers know. Peru on its own Guano. Wit the Peruvians show fight in case JonaTuaw should proceed to oceupy the Lobos Islands ? P ; and prove troublesome customers: | as the ordinary “ rooster,” eau Gates he may succumb to the | game-cock, is proverbially apt to display plenty of combativenese on | his own domain—tbat mound of fertilising substance with which guano may be considered intrinsically identical. perernenemeeaianmD | Tux Lecat Fratexnity.—Brothers-in-Law.

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wae si Bang ee eer eee sane psa si ulin! A . i -? PUNCH. OR THE L@NDON CHARIVAR! HW ys ‘*— . v i ey? ’ 4 THE NETHERBY GAME LICENCE. excess of your zeal for the _— farmers, call us vermin, now you are fond of us, od would feel great sure in seeing myself “at your table to-morrow. You would not like to have us all utterly destroyed; you would desire that some rea- sonable compromise should , be made with the agricultur- / ists on our behalf There- ' fore you will be pleased with a circular relative to our family, which your old friend, Sin James Granam, has addressed to his Netherby tenants. This communica- tion states that UNCH, MY DEAR Bor, Though J you do, sometimes, in the | “‘Srmm James GeRanwam, unso- licited, bas much pleasure in noti- fying to his tenantry, that they have his permi-sion to bunt and kill bares and rabbits on their several farms, between the hours of sunrise and sunset—the time for killing hares being limited to the usual pertod, from the 27th of September to the 27th of February. Neither guns nor snares to be used.’ “Neither guns nor snares are to be used—but Sir James Gaauam vouchsafes to allow his tenants to kill hares and rabbits, as many as they can, by huntirg. There is the course of coursing open to them for prosecuting these four-legged trespassers; and also, it would seem, | that of knocking on the head all the rabbits and hares that will wait till the sportsman waiks over them. Now, my dear Sir, doesn’t it strike you that this is an extremely mild and moderate concession to the demand for the right to abate ‘vermin?’ Shouldn’t you. if you were a rat, and the hte hoor tribe had, at least in some measure, to be limited, be s to be extermmmated with such mer- ciful restrictions ? Str James Guanam deserves the thanks of every bare x. on his estate for thus endeavouring to SPORTING EXTRAORDINARY—THE OLD DOG POINTS CAPITALLY. “I TELL rem wor IT Is, Sam! Iv rais roow or a Doc Is A GOING TO STAND STILL LIKE THIS HERE IN EVERY FIELD HE COMES TO, WE MAY AS WELL SHUT UP SHOP, FOR WB SHAN’T FIND NO Partrincss!” mitigate their prea by the farmers. But that those gentlemen themselves will be equally obliged to him, is an ——— in which [ am afraid Sin James is very considerably ' too sanguine. His circular proceeds :— “This permission wi'l be tinued from the present date until further notice. During its continuance, Sta James Grama confidently expects aud trusts that such a concession on his part will induce all his tenants, by themselves and their servants, to preserve the winged game on their respective farms, to the utmost of their power, for the amusement of himself, his family, and friends.’ “*Such a concession!’ I really fear, Sir, that the farmer who —or ought to rejoice—in vassalage to Siz Jams GrawaM, wit be ungrateful enough to tear his landlord’s gracious prociamativn in pieces and stamp upon it, fling it behind the fire, or, more wisely, light his pipe with it. For the man may, very possibly, fancy that he is mocked and insulted by the request to subserve so assiduously the amusement of a gentleman, by whom that very a ting—is expressly interdicted to himself. He will hardly discern the immense favour granted him in this unsolicited grace, this svontaneous indulgenc:, this motu proprio. as Sin JaMEs’s “4 the Pops, would say. indeed, the Netherby farmer—and everybody else, too, probably—wi recognise rather the pompous egotism of the ex-official Poor Law Beadle than the liberal jocosity of the present Mancnester Progres- sionist. A mighty boon, te be sure, has Sin James GRsHaM con- ferred upon his tenantry in licensing them to kill hares, provided ig! neither shoot nor snare them! Yet [ am sorry to say, Mr. Punch, have no hope that this act of generosity will in the least improve his prospects of becoming Prime Minister—to execute the designs of the [rish Brigade, and to oppose the machinations of Ma. Mazzini against the Papacy, either in Downing Street or St. Martin’s-le-Grand. game, and his game-licence, will be alike seen through, Sir, or I'll be jugged—and you may eat “ Your humble friend, * Netherby, Sept. 14, 1852. “Poon Puss.” Putting Moonshine into your Pocket. Tue Austrian intelligence of the Times talked a few days ago of the munnscheine of Vienna. When we wae of the value of these Treasury notes, this error, if we translate it by the sound, is a most expressive one. In truth, moonshine express >s precisely what am Austrian note is worth—as any one who is weak enough to part with his gold for paper in Aus*ria wil! soon find out to bis cost. Wilham Bradbvary, ef No. ia Printed Office tn}lLembard Street, in the Precimet im the City of Londoa, aad Publiseed by them Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, and Frederick M Whitefnan, u allett Brana, of Vo. 7, Chureh Bow, Stoke Newington, both m the of Midd ever, ac their No. 8, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride's in the City of ruspar. Se

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL MYSTERIOUS DISTURBANCES IN DOWNING STREET. HERE has been, for some time past, considerable excitement m the neighbourhood of Downing Street, in conse- quence of strange and unac- countable noises which have been heard to proceed from a portion of the building wherein the Exchequer Office is situated, The sounds in question consist chiefly of a sort of humming noise, some- what similar to the moanin of the wind so often heard, and producing so melancholy an effect, amid old ruins ; but it has been observed that the humming continues, and in- deed is loudest, when there is not a breath of air stirring At intervals this mysterious murmur ceases, and a succes- sion of groans, as if proceeding from some person in painful exertion, is clearly audible. Some listeners posi- tively state that, amid the con used mixture of sounds, they have from time to time distinctly heard arithmetical numbers articulated; an they compare the whole effect | upon the ear to the sort of buzzing that commonly proceeds from a parish school at work | ciphering. Those who have read the “ Seeress of Prevorst,” and are aware of the spiritual and | mystic relations of numbers, will probably be confirmed by this circumstance in referring these singular acoustic phenomena to a supernatural origin; but philosophers of a more material turn may probably surmise that the troubled spirit is no other than that of the living Ma. Disnakti, absorbed in the severe labour of getting up his budget, and calculating aloud, A GREAT BALLOON CASE. Before Mx. Puncu. Cowrrrsutor A 1. appeared before the magistrate to charge a public exhibitor and veteran acronaui, named Disragxi, with cruelty to a Protectionist donke seve’ work d Bonar some time ago, a | on Disaagii to balloon capable of containing in the considerable party, with the intention of rising to a height in sight of the public hitherto unattained by anybody of his class. lt appeared that Mn. Disraz.i, who has been before the’public for ~ years in various capacities,—baving shot for a wager in Printing House Square at one time—having been engaged in the fire- ment at St. Stephen’s—having then entered the ring against EEL—and subsequently gone about with a street teleecope to let out for the inspection of distant objects—has been of late attached to the service of the eminent aéronaut Dersy. whatever was likely to be attractive to the public Accordingly, the provin years ; who had played minor rustic, PakINGTON ; attached to the balloon. Balloon Cabinet was constructed, and the y to ascend gn ap en Jouyyy Manners, a young man from the e s in pastoral dramas for some | ALMESBURY, a man-miller, &. ; and the Disragzii above-mentioned. The public expressed some | been doubts as ~ - safety of the ine. the weather ae squally, and did | the Jour party not seem likely to encourage the project, when Diszazui, anxious to | fore caution against any future abuse of the kind. provide atiraction, hit on the plan of carrying up a Protectionist donkey | = Dexsy constructed, in the car a It devolved Mr. Punch. This is CHARLEY ’S MY DARLING, Ir seems that royalty as resented b Cuantes THe Finst—at é i + Cross —ia ones more in danger; and some enthusiastic loyalist has been calling out, through that tremendous speaking trumpet, the 7'imes, for a secend Resto- ration. In this instance the Royal martyr will | not be brought to the scaffold, but the scaffold | will probably be brought to the Royal martyr | [t seems that the pedestal is in such a dilapidated state, that, unless Caries is established on a | firmer basis, the restoration will become im- | possible, | We ourselves have often been struck by the | melancholy appearance of poor Cuanies, upon | whom the elements have inflicted two black | eyes, by blowing into them a large accumulation of soot from the surrounding chimney-pots. As to his nose, we can only say that “not to put too fine a point upon it,” it has dwindled to a | pug; and the head of the monarch is so dis- | figured by dirt, that it will require a good deal of | judicious chiselling, before the family resemb!ance | to the chip of the old block will be perceptible. The Rights of Hospitality. By a Regular Diner out Hosritaity, like property, has its duties as well as its rites, and I mean to say that it is the bounden duty of a man, if he invites you to dine with him, to give you a good dinner. AGRICULTURAL DISTRESS. Ir is positively quite distressing to see, all about Belgrave Square, how the calves that a month ago were in such good condition, are wasting away, ever since the footmen have been on board wages. an extraordinary case. What does the defendant say to the charge of cruelty ? Disraeli denied that the animal suffered any pain. donkey well (a laugh) it not so ? | emergencies, it flings | and would throw him DIsRARLI was unders He knew the ; it was insensible to its situation. Contributor A | remarked that the animal landed after each exhibi- tion in a high state of perspiration, and trembling— Disraeli (interrupting). That i a gallop in Buckinghamshire. Contributor A 1 submitted that this was an unusual state of | agitation of the animal. treatment, but there were bounds — not to be allowed togo. Why, t before it, but out of reach, which it hurt itself in stretching for. as s nothing. He has done that at many He did not deny that it was used to strange ond which animal experiment had a bag of corn dangling | Disraeli. Tt was looming in the future (a laugh). Contributor A\. Besi a flight without high danger to the public, as well as to the donkey. It ‘ i f weather. It fell in the other day with a gale | the invention, and generally to provide Se a ‘es ie the News real , your worship, this balloon never takes It risks breezes from the North. And in | out grappling-irons anywhere, and will lay hqld of | achurch, or a farmer’s dwelling indifferently, to the high danger of hoth. | Disraeli. The Semitic element— it Mr. Punch. 1 do not doubt that the Semitic element has a relation to the donkey ; but, without going further into the matter, enough has shown to prove to me that the Protectionist donk. purposes he has been recently put to, by suffers from must, there- to say that he was tired of the donkey, overboard w oceasion offered ; but, owing to _ The Protectionist donkey belongs to a curious breed, not yet extinc' his unintelligible manner of speaking, the exact purport of his words in this country, and concerning which naturalists are divided in opinion | was not discernible. The Court then Everybody admits that it is a variation of the common British ass—but | the laws of its production, and the reason of its extraordinary perma- | nence as a separate type, have given rise to much speculation. Ona costal day, in pursuance of his object, Disnazxi attached to | the balloon an animal of this species. highly attractive, particularly to rustics. , The beast was suspended by fastenings invented by the aéronaut (technically called bonds of the agricultural interest) and its legs dangled loose in the air. As the balloon went up with the aéronauts seated m it, it hung suspended ina ludicrous and painful manner, while the man DisRaz.i sat upon it, nay, went through strange gesticulations on its back. The spectacle was mabe Unezasy.” 4 Great Exhibition. reeeived by the Nation. WRONG ON THE FACE OF IT. We have seen a little book with the title of “ French made Kasy.” We cannot believe this of a noble nation like France; for, under their present despotic ruler, we should say it was decidedly the “ Fasnou ISSING, since the 15th of October, 1851, the Surplus Fund of the Any information concerning the above will be gratefully VOL. XXIII.

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severe AY tay =e 146 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARTVAR! must be drains, it is clear that the old four-foot brick sewers are the SOME ACCOUNT OF MY TRAVELS | thing for these neighbourhoods. It is true they do not carry off the filth, but then they afford comfortable accommodation to the b'acking IN SEARCH OF SELF-GOVERNMENT | brushes, brickbats, and old hats. Besides, their construction furnishes . | work to the honest builder, while their frequent repairs give employ- BY ONE OF THE OLD SCHOOL ment to a respectable and hard-working class of artisans. ween 12 on 6 we wo Nothing can more clearly show how wicked and groundless are the Briton. I have been brought — aguas the Water es than a a up with a profound respect | ities, Scareely a court but its stand-pipe at | tom. for our glorioes Constitution order to save trouble to the imhabitants the water is'turned on by a in Church and State ; and that main-cock, and flows for a stipalated tame (often as long as an hour and seupest teste tpomwdient half!) never less than twice a week, often three times, and, occasion- Constitution in Local Govern- ally, even daily, while the the ment also. Yes, glorious COn- | seives, as it and all for time. As the jandlords exercise stitutions we Britons must be 4): wpe 7x temag wt P - admitted to have, and precious —_ British privilege of butts of all sises, of course hard work we give our consti- | wstor is wasted in this tutions, all three of them. - , y r There was Catholic Emancipa- foundations is thus cecasioned. But what a-brilliant — a wrench that gave | ube apinited Companies! They pra the poor m our glorious Constitution im} 7 yn ee Pincay of the | not one of these courts where they don’t let of : i : 5 4 E E§ a 4 F i se L i 5 fH d F 23 gs twice ; te as is used. Test and Corporation Acts, | ot : : p fa, rl sy 5 aia aerate ‘Gas eg ea /supply of water being kept near the spot-where it is to be thrown : J ' when done with, the water-butt is generally placed within a foot or such inroads I leave it to the | of the open ceaspeol enthusiasts may tell us that candour of FatHen New’ | imbibes poisonous ga — ~use; but to ioe, ee © Se at consider the comfort of the te who by slorio. i ved the Re.|aramsement is enabled to draw the water she wants with one hand, as Bal eg €-| while she empties what she has fouled with the other ? wen form _ i I was sorry to find, however, that even im these favoured districts the Corn Laws, I think one that despotic and un-English body, the Commissioners of Sewers, had may say it is proof against/ been at work recklessly covering over the open ditches, which for most attacks. ‘ons Con. |°oturies have formed such convenient channels for the off of Happily our oo - |house refuse—with no more troubie than the emptying da dappallyer epee — “nn ap ey ge ge py eye é tried as clther 4f cer Giher dlocious Cmutitasions Private M(t sep Se Suns, ot came Sencar oem sais Machen legislation, with its attendant bulwarks of Parliamentary fees, Parlia-| {; ; ifying, however, to be able to record notwithstandi hmm — di iandlord fa still master — eF ffi a ow +4 a“ | mentary agents, and Parliamentary counsel, still secures the Briton’s their impertinent intrusion, the independent | with | Officer of Health or audacious Inspector of Nuisances. inestimable privilege of self-government—that is, government for| his own property, and has, in most cases, acted up to his rights self—in contra-distinction from the communistic principle of govern- : j : icate with th i © pany ge "the Public Health Act, however, has refusing to put down house-drains to communi wi e 8 commenced an insidious attack on this holy ciple, so admirably | which a provident legislature has feneed round apy attempt at compul- defended by Ma. Toutmin Smita; anda good many other dangerous | sion by this esomnintble central Board, effectually prevent them from measures, such as the Baths and Wash-bouses Act, the Common forcing the independent proprietor to avail hi 4 of their theoretical -Houses Act, and the Nuisances Removal Act, are all, pj hi uments of the ineffectual formidable allies of the first-mentioned revolutionary statute. [temselts of over enerensbiags Fn Fag o Happily, however, they have not done much mischief ye¢, but they) ‘These are facts which make one proud of one’s countrymen. The nave Eeatted the small end of the wedge; and if Britoms don’t take! same spirit which resisted the imposition of ship- , is still battling care, they will find their cesspools drained, their ash-pits invaded, their | sgainst compu nage, and many a Lambeth Hampden in, even ’ : ag p oy rie many f refuse carried away—no one knows whither, their water-butts abolished, now, ing a modest bu ic warfare against the Caroline preroga- their qttion trapped, and that sacred principle of “ doing what they like tives of the Sewers Commiesioners. eir own” trampled under foot on every side, by some poking} Against the national importance of cultivating this sturdy spirit, ‘ naacieus » ~s what use is it to quote the statisties of a despotic and central Kegistrar Still, though the evil is imminent in tne country, London may be! General? What is it to me that fever is never absent from these places said to be comparatively safe. The successful struggle made by the —that infants do not rear, and men die before their time—that si Water and Cemetery Companies last session, shows that Parliament iS engenders pauperism — that filth breeds depression, and depression awake to the levelling and dangerous principles of the so-called | drives to drink? What do you mean by telling me that cholera slew “Sanitary Reformers,” and that vested interests are still properly jin Rotherhithe its 205 victims im every 10,000, in St. Olave its 151, in represented in the legislature. ; _, _ | St. Saviour’s its 153, in Lambeth its 120, while in the Strand it earried am happy to be able to confirm, by personal experience, the infer- off only 35, in Kensington 33, im Marylebone 17, and in ie 8, ence drawn from our legislation in these matters. ‘out of the same number? Still, British landlords did —_ ey liked It is in the metropolis that we must look for the most striking exhibi-| with their own, and self-government is 3 tion of the blessings of our great Anglo-Saxon principle of self-govern- siaves of an camreathing ceatediestien are kept at arm’s length, and if meat. Determined to view it in some of its proudest manifestations, they have succeeded in putting down sewers, at least we have triumphed, I spent the other day in their investigation, through those cheerful and in not laying our house-drains into ’em. odoriferous districts — St. Olave’s, St. George’s Southwark, St. [t is with pride, therefore, I repeat, that whatever may be the case Saviour’s, Rotherhithe, amd Lambeth. I am happy to say that through-| in the country (where | regret to see the hateful Public Health Act out these districts self-government is flo _ The Inspector of | seems to be extending its ravages), in London we are still enjoying the Nuisances is rarely seen, or when seen is treated with the contempt he enormous, the invaluable privilege of self-government, and that if deserves, as the minion of a central despotism fulminating its unre- Epidemic Cholera should visit us again, we may confidently show him to arded edicts from somewhere or other. Even the scavenger is.a rare | his old haunts in 1832 and 1849, and so convince him that, im this free ird of passage here, and when he does come, his ministrations are eountry, Ae, too, is at liberty “ tu DO WHAT HE LIKES WITH Bis OWN.” chiefly confiaed, as is right and proper, to the streets where the | inhabitants are respectable, and ean remunerate him adequately for his | trouble. In courts, where filth is only removed to be replaced, what is the use of a scavenger ? “a |, “Why Don't you Speak Out!” The levelling uniformity of “ system” is, throughout these districts, | : psi : he scouted with that independence which belongs tothe Britishecharac'er., Faom the impossibility of making our present Ministers say what Every landlord drains his premises as he likes, and in many cases does | they mean—or even, what they do not mean—the observation that not drain at all. What good reason can there be, he very properly was onee made by TaLiereanD of celebrated Nebody, may with asks, for putting down drains for a set of tenants who will use them as|equal point be turned round upen them—“ Ces Messieurs ont an grand repositories for blacking brushes, brickbats, and old hats? If there ‘alent pour le silence.” complicated apparatus and run while the water is on,.of them- — tubular arrangements of the Commissioners, while the formalities with |

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVART 147 NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. Faance is the land of sober com- mon sense, And Spain, of intellectual emmence ; Unbounded liberty is Aus- tria’s a And Prussia’s kingdom is as free—almost ; In Russia there are no such things as chains, Supreme in Rome enlight- ened Reason reigns ; America-— that stationary | clime— Helids to Tradition and the Olden Time ; Bagiand, the light, teiees in thentpical dingin thoughtless, and the gay, The sons of Scotland are-impulsive, rash, Infirm of purpose, p of cash ; Whilst Pappy's-are the lips that know'no guile, For Truth has fixed her throne im Hiria’s isi ic. AN IRISH HOWL AT A HERO'S: WAKE. To a Writer in the Galway Vindicator: Sie, The most’ valuable of tributes: that any one cam bestow is the praise of’ atrae man ; the next best is the abuse of a false knave. You have-rendered the very highest: homege—which it is in your power to renderte the memory of our great Duxs. While-every'seund-hearted person in the kingdom is extolling the heroie devetion to right, the generous disinterestedpess and self- sacrifice for whieh’our departed Chief was ever distinguished, you, om the contrary, say—yelping :-— “ There was not amatom of chivairy about the Duke. He did what he was paid for, and he did it well; but he did nothing more.” True Irishman that you are!—of the Cantit and Mac Hate breed. Weiixerton himself, indeed, was an lrishman—of the other sort And then you how! on thus :— “ There was no heart in bis fighting. He wes the bean al of one of those Swiss commanders, who led their conutrymen under the standard of the Dutch against the Hottentots or Carribs.’ Here, however, we must try back a litfle with your invective, which just previously has. run in the following strain :— “ Were we still following the standards of France—were we still as of old shouting Faugh-a-bailagh under the bright emblazonry of the silken banners of hostile couatries | were our exiled countrymen shouting and bleeding, as a hundred years ago, fore- most and vociferons in the armies of the French monarch, as when they pitched their | tents beside the foaming Elbe and the rapid Iser—when they bivouacked in the glens of | the Alps, and bled upon the margins of the Pados, what would have been the conse- quenee? The field of Waterloo might have been another Fontenoy.” Characters like you, should, it is proverbially said, have good | memories. Yours is so treacherous, that in writing one sentence you | forget the other that yow penned immediately before. What manner of soldiers were the Swiss? and what difference was there between those mercenaries and the “exiled countrymen” to whom you allude, as “ shouting and bleeding” in foreign pay—except, perhaps, that the Swiss were not so remarkable for shouting “ Fuxgh-a-ballagh,” or any other nonsense, and were, however, equally forward in action, not 30 vociferous ? But to return to your vituperation of the “ He was, in a word, a Duca.ip Datozrry, without soldier.” Duxs :— the vain boasting of that hireling Ab, Paddy—you dog '!—a little vain boasting—a spice of rhodomon- | tade, a smack of balderdash—Faugh-a-ballagh '!— Whurroo !—a touch of nature, just to make us kin—would have been a redeeming feature— | woulda’t it? Whurroo! Hoo!—You open again on the dead Lion :— “ He served a commercial people steadily, rigidly, soberly, regularly, just asa com the | ever be entrusted to a protector as quakerly. Will not, Sir P— you ought to know. ’ - es here The quakerly conqueror of Napotson would have done better at Manchester than at Waterloo, in your cynical opinion ;— “ Men like Weutaxorox, traffickers in war, are precisely the men whom a nation of shopkeepers are certain to evolve—« man who manages huis troops weil, but would evidenUy manages counting-house better.” Nation of shopkeepers—yes | that work for the “dhirty shilling,” instead of borrowing it when they want it, like gentlemen. The Duke was so “palthry” as to pay his weekly bills. was “mane” enough to be positively respectable, Just the “ calculating,” spiritiess creature to be admired by a “ nation of .” Precisely so :—the rather that he was not “evolved” by»the “ nation of ——= =z but by the other nation. And now for the climax of your cry from the kennel :— “ WLuinerow never laboured for a moment under the delusion that makes young | and generous hearts consider the prida, pemp, and circumstance of war as something glorious and ennobling, He was no betling enthusiast—be was cold, rigid, and cal- culatiog—in a word, the [ron Duke.” No. WsLLinctownever coneeived that there is anything to admire in simply encountering or or mutilation. Nor did any delusion induce him»to regard\deums and fifes, colours, uniforms and parades, either im» themselves: or im their relation to carnage, as “ glorious. and ennobling’” What be did consider ennobling and glorious was, to fight’ to theedeath—if need were—not for fighting’s sake, not for vulgar applause; net for the renown of a big bully, not treasonably under a foreigm standard, but fur the sake of that co which now blesses his. i He was no “ boilingr enthusiast ;” rr: enthusiasm which is aboverbeiling point, ough it dees not bubble— and does not evaporates? This*enthusiasm says “ Up Guards and at them !”’ at the proper times but'dors not shout “ Fuagh-a-ballagh”’— though occasionally Faagh! without “a-ballagh” when something have excited by your filthy outrage against the Dead almost chokes PUNCH. RECRUITING FOR THE “LONE STAR,” Seuun.—A Trappers Camp on the Banks of the Gila. Sreaxes.—Ma. Wiiitam Rone, alics PLumomwrne Brie. Waat B’ys, when yer have skinned yer ears, jist lend them all to me, For byur’s a cute old hoss, | guess, has got a grand idee ; Since Beaver down to Taos now arn’t worth a pieu a plug, It’s time this child war lookin’ out elseweres for suffia snug, This criltur’s sick of Injun ways, and all their pesky dealins, Wolf mutton nohow don’t‘agree with this here niggur’s feelins ; We trappers was som pumkins wunst, but things arn’t as they were, And so L’ll make back tracks before the Pashes raise my hair. | [ll jine: them coons, who ’re gwine this fact down every throat tocram, That all this Western heap of airth belongs to Uncie Sam; A noshun wich them ——— kinder ortn’t to condemn, | For what they gev the lnjuns wunst, we're gwine to giv to them. So, if they show their sassy airs, raally shou'dn’t wonder | If some on ’em should then be ; to go under, For Kill B’ar shoots Tameraine quite, and when | gits a sight, | Darn me if 1 can hold him in, his trigger is so light. Yes! We're the Suns of Freedom, and the airs of all the West ; | We’ ll keep this half of airth, and leave the Britishers the rest : | And if agin our lorful rites they dare to make a head, And say we arn’t the raal right grit—Wagh! won't we give ‘em lead ? | And when our knives and guns have proved the justice of our cause, We'll show them Spanish goneys the buties of our lors, | Till the unenlightened varmint shall one and all agree That our larning and our manners have tort ’em to be free. With the hosses of Kentucky (them chaps of Cotowzn Boowr’s), The Buckeyes of Ohio, and the Missisippi Coons, The Corn cobs of New ire, and the kansas Ringtailed roarers Are united in one mighty band of peaceabie explorers. mereial people like to be served: it was ench generals as Weitiseror—men of a! trading quakerly turn of mind, without any of that nobility of character, without «| single particie of that ennobling romanee which «xtenuates the faults and endears the memory of the Govrarys of old and the Mcrats of modern times—men like Wet- LineTom the banner of Carthage into the //anos of Spain.” No, small Pat, there was no romance about the Duxe oy Wen LINGTON; no romance of your sort. Truth, howling Paddy, was Ais) grand quality; reality, which the highest romance—not your romance— only imagines: this he acted out, shaming the “dhivil,” and all the W's crew, or pack of hounds. A man of “a quakerly turn of mind !” —Irish traitors will be sorry if our defence against foreign foes shall And when the stars and stripes o’er the Western world shall wave, Our free, peeowrful nation, so vartuous and brave, Careering for'ards, right on eend, shall seem to each admirer, Like some great Baffler, makin’ tracks, across the vast parairer! Definitions from a New Napoleon Dictionary Empriag, s, The Empire—as Franee under Narotezon Buowaraate, Empirer, 7. 2. To grow worse—as France under Louis Napovron. ' | Vagabonds and thieves of the world intensely offends its morabnose! Faugh! The enthusiasm which you

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PaO NN aga a or RAD PI lS aac my is nena One 143 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL | j f | gaat vs i Guard, “Some ons Been Smoxine, I tamnk?” Passenger. ““Wuat! Smoxine! Tsat’s VeRY REPREHENSIBLE. PeRHAPS IT WaS THE CLERICAL GENTLEMAN WHO HAS JUST GOT OUT OF THE N¥XT COMPARTMENT.” TO AUSTRALIA FOR A SHILLING. A NEW CHAIR FOR OXFORD. Iw the race of competition for cheap fares, everything is outstripped | It appears that the provision for instruction im that department of | by the announcement of a visit to the Australian Gold Diggings for | knowledge comprised under the denomination of the Litera Humaniores one shilling. We have made the voyage, under the experienced con-| is incomplete at Oxford. Within twenty-four hours after the event ductorship of Mr. Prout, and have enjoyed all the pleasures of the | which all other Englishmen were mourning, the Heads of the Univer- | trip without the drawbacks of sea-sickness, short provisions, insuffi- | sity laid themselves together to consult about choosing a new Chan- cient accommodation, or any other of the evils to which emigrants are | cellor; and in two days more they and other “Fellows” of similar liable. The passage is quite a pleasant after-dinner affair, and, instead | taste and feeling got up a requisition to invite the Eat or Deusy to of sitting over our wine at home, we have enjoyed the sample of Cape | stand for the Coancellorship. Under these circumstances, it is quite and Madeira drawn—not from the wood but from the water—by the | evident that there should be forthwith established a Regius Professor clever artists who have united their talents in describing pic‘orially | of Decorum, in order to the better instruction of the Oxonian mind in | the passage to Australia. The intending emigrant to the Diggings will | propriety and decency. There was a school whereat the sciences in do well to go and look upon the true picture in Regent Street before — used to be taught for twopence a week: tuition in manners he embarks for, perhaps a mere waste of time, on the waste of waters. | being imparted for twopence more. If this seat of learning is still in He will then learn, not only the fact that all that — is not gold, | existence it may furnish a cheap and competent Teacher of Behaviour but that gold itself may have the shine taken out of it by the hardships | to the other. | te - oe Rome it. Not that Ma. iy peer of the | : a jold Fields is likely to discourage emigration, but, on the contrary, to — render it beneficial by setting people right as to what they may expect, A Court of In-justice. and thus make tolerably sure of their expectations being realised. A wew Court has been built for holding the Westminster Sessions, | where it seems nothing can be heard—the architect having pe : |come to the conclusion that justice may as well be deaf, as Inconsistent Humanity. | is said to be blind. has ayo Lye - notte, Audi on War on earth do the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to |2#7/em, but he may probably have arrived at the conclusion that the Animals make such a fuss about M. Porrevin’s taking up a -s. same result will be achieved by hearing neither one side nor the other. : : | The prisoners have been the only persons favourably considered, pony or a bull under his balloon, when they allowed him the other day, fi : without interference, to ascend from Cremorne with no less than | {°F there isa spacious and convenient dock ; but there are numerous twenty-two asses, whose sufferings in the descent, judging by the | °Teats of air traversing the Court, which may also be of account of one of them “ who saw and felt it all,” must have been of | ° benefit the prisoners and give them a chance of getting a the most serious description? It is true that they have the advantage | ® e-wind. asianeatisa over the bull and pony, that, if brought into court, they can at least | describe what they endured ? | How to Bauisz your Oats.—Send them by a cheap Excursion ————— | Train, and if, by the time they leave the railway, they are only half as A moral Jmposs1BILIty.—An English masquerade. well bruised as the passengers, you will have no cause to complain.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVAR) 151 Merrily over the churchyard stones, THE GREAT ASYLUM BALLOON The weshhend. besine it our feet And that *s the place dor Gabon bones ! ASCENT. eep Goc and MaGoe clean and sweet— . s ; I smell a fox ! BY A BALLOON-ATIC. Somebody says, “The London Docks!” os 1. But ze Cae soare is “ CHanLes’s Wain?” | — nt up—up _ eo : ! re ; Aldebasan I cannot se | And out you jump and crack your crown— Zee Coten aata ae, — If you square the circle, twill all be plain; | Up and down, down and up! and you : ut the loadstone’s as far as ever fons me, | Topsy-turvy spills the cup. Maket ite. les are knocked about, So then, in Ponsa bailoon, ama patient ~~ pee ‘tein Up we go—up to the Moon ! The bluebottle fly and the lady-cow Ours is the slough It isn’t quite full, but it will be ” | Get bigger and bigger down there,now ; isn’t quii ut it w: soon. | a How —— sik ” | heardethem say, ar ey + —— make 2. And the oxen an ———— away. “ «Stop, stop!” says she; « don’t fo 00 high, | Le — . ‘Hat Ls how we scrateh up the hurdles and break our necks against the sky se at are they abou a onees He ho! the valve is jamm’d with rain, Up ropes to see the monkeys-enawling !— And drag iron f aul, gates at our tails. And he pulls till he’s black im the face again. | But not so fast as were falling Perhaps ’twill burst—and then we sink, 8. And the mee = will titter and wink ; — tom-eat ! F Nee =a fun ? ! wet Pull-ahoy! my sailor chap ! we-struck ! And black.and blue,” Ob, what fun if it should snap ! Saye the Hesex:Calf to the Middlesex Gander : No; it comes right— And you baven’t got a lueifenmatch ao to’the train, whe”, we stop. Alms we in the rain : First-class fer 4 RMPRROR ALExanpER! » - easy drop! Thee down iq Look at Lenlandl down below, Not Py bigger than little o ; Tear away, vo rm Such is at present the state of the nation ; And high-diddle-diddle, Smash and crash, ——— 7) hitch ! Tell Densy to wy The drain in the middle, Whack on a bank and bang on a trunk ! And let me d And over the river we jump Ju Caow. | The cab drives fast when the wind is drunk. | As soon as he gets to the Hanwell Station. t

| that if to- he were to shout “ V for Waterloo |—Let NO NATIONAL DEFENCES! us embark for England” wot a soul would follow him, ‘ Even if the French were to invade us, they would not hurt us if we T the present time certain | did not hurt them. They have plenty of money ; and their soldiers, in sensible and well-disposed an enemy’s country, always pay wep be my hee they want, saiee persons are distributing | French invasion is more to 10 be hoped ee would tend to about handbills, with the | the advantage of the common ee en object of dissuading young The French are susceptible, Pthotr affection is’ refined, and thelr - oy ie venatenting into army would offer no attentions but othe of the most delicate nature to in ardor to sesend their (Oo ™ a — intentions, the fol. | . as considerations are CARD.—To Epidemics in Search of a Situation. offered to those whom they | " - may concern. O BE DISPOSED OF, in Rotherhithe, St. Olave’s, St. Savionr’s, A bounty of ff St. George's Southwark, and St. Mary's Lambeth,- ~a number of Superior — ; y ve ponds Walks, doing « great stroke of business, and affording a most eligible openin 4d is no consideration to any | respectable Kpidemic out of « situation; the Walks having the advantage working man, for heving ¢ ° oo qaneaien othe theme wellbkaown metropolitan sents Lo Drenvs undergo the fatigue an | ace eect in this county, These Walks will be found replete with with for the busi several Patent eee and

na as toctange; te Werke Win in dort bo n s a je urisdietion of the — erin, an any eld established or om Kpidemic his native ‘village, in the this would be a splendid opportunity, a6 the Boards of Guardians are ready to furnish course of the year. The | every facility, and as the inhabitants are regular consumers and migh t =z, expected to pay and Keep which bere | tag A Sener, et, Bs ry as long a is — snd the Union Monten of tco-avoune! dloteiots in which cho Walks ave dtuate. ut, are not wo mention ing; as the r and half starved condition of every DANCING FOR DIVINES. British soldier clearly ; shows. We see that a ing Academy has been opened in Sermon Lane, There is no fear whatever | Doctor’s Commons. pupils here “go in” for serious dancing. of any invasion. The | Young gentlemen—sons or nephews of the superior clergy—are French have quite lost | instructed in the fashionable “ Sinecure Valse,” and “ Prerogative Court their passion for glory, indeed they have lost sll their passions except | Quadrille,” 90 celebrated for the elegant “ Registrar” pastorale as danced those of a tender nature. They act now upon sober calculation, | by PRoreston Moonrg, tothe tune hell Ten Phousand a Year.” = oat ond motives ; my in choning Las Is 7 -y~ for ~~ acta ident inviting to their peror, they as much as to all the world that they desire the Nephew to avoid the | Beadahow's | Metaphysics. ncle’s example. | Te British public does not, perbaps, clearly understand in what | | Levis Narouzox pimeeif is a man of sensitive conscience, whose | sense the locomotive engime annililates time and space. ‘The railway ambition is arrested by the slightest scruple, and who would shrink machime aecomplishes that stupendous achievement by throwing the — from causing the least bloodshed and misery even in a foreign nation, | traveller out of the sphere of local and temporary existence. although in order to accomplish his most cherished design. But even ——— if he were a fellow = sticks at nothing, so strong a Christian feeling | Tae Caack Composer.—Venpi—for it is said he has cracked more | prevails in Franee, and the religious public of Paris is so influential, | voices than any other composer.

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ma went = - ne = oe oa 4 agiinh wt 152 PUNCH. OR TILE LONDON CHARIVARLI. | | LINES COMPOSED ON THE BRIDGE OF THE | : | SERPENTINE. my On! Serpentine, thy banks are green, Ah g ' So are thy waters, too ; ih . . : ' When will they wash thy bosom clean, =5 | = : n And change that filthy hue ? When Fasbion’s children, in their pride, Along thy margin sport, To me they seem like youth beside A gutter, up a court. Alas! what poison on thy brink They breathe, polluted sewer. Ob! when wilt thou run clear, thou sink, Taoou lake of mere manure ? The Tale of a Horse. A stony has been running round the papers, about | a sporting character receiving of a gentleman a large price for a horse that had a most magnificent tail, and that tail turning out, after the purchase, to be a false one that had been stitched on for the occasion. The Betting Houses proceed on exactly the same system. | They get large sums of money upon their horses by fluarish- ing about them the most magnificent tales, and when the poor dupe has kept his horse a day or two, he fiads out that he’s been sold with a false tale. \ iS \ The State of the Kitchen. A Mancuester Trade Report recently said— “ The most depressed branch of trade is that for the manu‘acture of = domestics.’ Coster (to extremely genteel person). “1 say, GUVYNER, GIVE US A HIST WITH THIS This is strange; there being so very general a demand ‘eRE BILIN’ 0’ Greens!” for good servants. v1 , ™ NIT a th r That the maximum Superannuation Allowance of your Petitioners is A DOUBLE RAP AT THE DOOR OF THE HOUSE, nine shillings a weak, i that of the other London Letter-carriers | is fifty pounds a year. That on the latter sum your Petitioners, when ' Mx. Puwcn has ordered the subjoined Petition to be printed:— oe work, would consider themselves consigned to clover, whilst on the ormer they can hardly regard themselves as being turned out to grass. To tae Honovrasie tHe House or Commons iN PARLiaMeNT| That your Petitioners have each a trying daily walk, wherein they are THAT I8 TO BE ASSEMBLED. | anxious to keep fe the path of eailiate, _ by ~-y of fo .4 a. * a | ficient wages, they are sorely and grievously tem to 1 The Humble Petition of the London District Postmen that ae not pad ion but "item be por only Notes, but | Money, passing to a large amount through your Petitioners’ hands : Humety Saswers, they thus having, as Postmen, the strongest inducements to desert the That although the Profession of Authorship is in a somewhat less Post of Honour. deplorable state than it was in formerly, the case of your Petitioners ore ‘ constitutes a sad example of the inadequate remuneration afforded to| That your Petitioners are often the bearers of a Jillet-douz, un- Men of Letters. | consciously; but that the billet of which they are conscious—their That in 1847 many of your Petitioners received salaries of twenty- | situation, or lot—is a very hard billet. tween more of twenty-one shillings—a week, since when their | , hag - eT enn eee ee Se i i s dimini ‘ t their | ‘Ke. ubje el , : abours have been increased and their wages diminished, so that their | consideration to salen thelr sapenaans antes te & anes maximum weekly salary is now twenty shillings; and herein they | } ; ‘ submit to your Honourable House that they have not been fairly | degree above zero, and, generally, to elevate into something like a human figure their present monkey’s allowance. compounded with. That the work of your Petitioners is performed on their legs, but not And Your Petitioners, as in duty bound, will ever Knock, as Members of your Honourable House perform theirs, your Petitioners having to be in constant motion, whereby a hole is rapidly worn ina pair of boots, and, therefore, in a pound, the payment of which sum, : : or thereabouts, is necessary in cher te the ac sition of which boots, The Railway of Life. as the English and Scotch Members of your Honourable House may Sort was the passage through this earthly vale, be aware. Wherefore your Petitioners humbly complain to your By turnpike roads when mortals used to wend ; Honourable House that they, your Petitioners, are among the worst- But now we travel by the way of rail, used men that walk in shoe leather. As soon again we reach the journey’s end. That in consequence of the Government Order that Christmas hia ee gratuities at Public Offices should be discontinued, the Public has been led to suppose that your Petitioners had been altogether prohibited A Moral in Money. from receiving Chriatmas Boxes; in consequence of which serious ’ : , mistake, your poor Petitioners have found the Christmas Box very| At Genoa, certain French five-frane pieces have been found with the generally shut. motto, Dieu punira la France, on the edge, instead of Diew protege That your Petitioners are anxious to rebut, as far as they are con- | ba aa. La Fa = i* be whe b = = ay "Ys of — cerned, the charge of improvidence which is made, perhaps with too | ae — iN “? —_ Emp y How Imperator Stork, with much reason, against Literary Men in general. But that out of a hi oe will eobble the f “+I . pound a week, it is quite impossible for them to make any provision for 2 GOCE , UE Gee seat old age; very difficult, indeed, to find a wife and family in seven days’ | PT: ore 6 vict uals. Tue “Lar” or Loxuxy.—Genuine milk in London. rere

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CRUEL CASE. | We have been in the babi from time to time, of | calling attention to the | i and often pain- | fal revelations with regard to both men! and things, to be found | in the advertising co- lumns of the newspa- | rs. Friday us with the following sad e of a rare hardship :— O BE SOLD, the pro- perty of a Gentleman | being too large for his room a splendid new Turkey carpet. The "4 this cannot but pro- foundl im with the size to which this poor gentleman must have grown, by = the fact that he is! - foreed to dispose at last of the very carpet off his floor, no obtaining for his own inconvenient bulk the small by that. arti How vividly does such an advertise- botnet ae ae ri piece after piece ‘urniture—removing ths talkin meatiors, sand as sofas, and sideboards, and tables ; his chairs, one by one, until his extravagant every inch of available space in his apartment, we aced to sell the very carpet, and describing himself, the act of making this sacrifice, as still “ too large for his, CONVICTS FOR CONSCIENCE’ SAKE. “My very Dean Sra, “I trust the horsehair shirt came safely to hand. You will find its operation surpris by the spicula of the Dolichos jens Or cowhage, spri in moderate quantity over its inside. Bisnor oF ou a shirt-pin, which, | mindful of the of holy or Laisa, you will perhaps stick | into your head. I would recommend you to let your servant give you i vn ee gy pk Candas a every morning. rseverance in all | dasuioiaintion i doubt not ee ee heretical disorder, in the end. my dear Sir, I now address you principally in reference heb cctenenliney Gelncion whieh ae be termed Azappon’s Last ; his fiction of the Mania! case at Florence. You saw the letter Vice ident and Secretary of the Heretical ion | the Eagt or Suarressury, which his lordship published | he newspapers; and in this document you read the following co “* Pranciaco and Rosa Maoprat, at the age of 50 years, condemned for the sole cause of the gospel to Senge at the galleys, repulsed by their Prince on their appeal for merey, their hair wed by the hand of the gaoler, and clothed in the dress of criminals, have just been sent to the Maremme, and are now undergoing their sentence in the midst of malefactors.’ * You will recollect that the crime for which the Maprar were! stated, the other day, in the 7imes, to have been thus sentenced, was ‘the abandonment of the Communion of the Romish Church,’ and the following of the ‘puro Evangelo’—pure Gospel—need I say, two| incompatible things ? “Oh! my very dear Sir, if oppression like this were perpetrated at) the instance, or even with the sanction, of our Church, you might indeed justly regard us as enemies of the human race. As reasonably | might you refuse to let us develop our system as restrain the Thugs | from carrying out theirs. If tyranny were an element in our religious | scheme, we might as well be suffered to make any other crime or! ing, after a supper at the Blue Pig. “It is the nature of wood,” atrocity a pa our religion: felony, larceny, reception of stolen goods, swindling, smuggling, poaching, and thimbicrig. You would be| warranted—if not in treating us as Nero did our predecessors, hunting | us as wild beasts—at least in taking every precaution against us that’ the best policy. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL The Times of too, ex pensive as that of the Journal des Débats, because the French daily 153 | ou would take against ferocious animals. ‘ With too much ressoa,’ indeed, as the Genevan people say, might you ‘tremble for all Europe,’ ee “* That the same principles and the same laws which demand the punishment of these two inoffensive beings at the hand of the Tusean tribunals, may equally demand of all Catholic Princes to take up arms against the Protestant nations, in fact to ex- terminate heretics at the head of their armies, as they exterminate heretics at home by means of their tribunals,’ eT he | dear Sir, what despicable fools or what odious traitors would those members pa igen Legislature who labour, under the pretence of zeal for civil i i Church allowed to have her own way, The: Irish gang sion of impudent, All these, intentions—the way to our and social “ But now Alas! my very dear @ir, it is, in the first the continent, from them al: that Ef i will put the Enemy down; defeat his stratagems, turn the him; rebut the on the Accuser: for of course you, Pablic with you, will believe me, “ Festival of St. Vitus, \852. 4 “ Your ever authentic correspondent, “ Vemax.” Epitaph on « Locomotive. By the sole survwor of adrplorable accident (ne bhame to he attached lo any servon(s of the Company). Cottistows four The 8i wor in vain ; — old and rusted, | Her biler busted, J And smash’d the Excursion Train. Met Gud was Pieces.” FRENCH AND ENGLISH JOURNALISM, It costs our contem the Times a trifle, we believe, to get himself up every morning; but the Times matter can hardly be so Press is now almost al! Hz-press. “ My head is swimming,” remarked Louis Naroteon one morn- was the reply of Ma. P. hit Ne Best Pouicy vor tHe Densy Govern uent.—Political honesty is sent

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154 Harrie. “St, st, st. Dear ue, now, 1’ve proken my Comp, AND ALL MY BACK WHAT WITH BRUSHING, AND DRESSING, AND CURLING, AND ONE THING AND THE OTHER, WHAT A PLaGUE ONE’S HAIR 1S TO BE SURE HAIR'S COME DOWN. Young Fellow. “Wert, '7? HaRRIET, WE ARE ALL BOTHERED WITH SOMETHING. Look aT US MEN ; WE HAVE TO SHAVE EVERY MORNING, SUMMER AND WINTER!” PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. BRITISH AND FOREIGN QUACKS, Ir is all very well for us to at the ity of other people, but we have y eddie a who ste ate 0 gums Gy simpletons, imposed desi might present himself, not revealed public is respectfully cautioned pretenders to the Science of Nativities for a blackguards! Tame cheaters two-guinea knave. But who there are a enough 1. our ae rogue’s while to print publish subjoined gammon of fattest bacon :— Ee dg At Lo the Winning Horse a Race, but ways decli entering vu Reeing matters, this year, I bad not given much attention to the resolution tions on such subjects. But, at the solicitation I have (assisted by « scientifi into the problem of discovering arrived at astonishingly correct of the principal Races of this year; ap with certainty the winner of any Race submitted to years I have been favourably known may be taken as some guaran state. I think it right to say that unconnected with the Racing or scientific calculations I determine the opportunity that presents itself money by a knowledge of what horse will win « race; to a select number of my Correspondents I mention the matter. “ Fee One Guinea. Enclose Stamped Directed Envelope.” Truly our Camden Town Sipropuet beats the Bisnor oF : Lugow in the composition of properly so called in SipaopHet’scase as in the bi hag omer by either, equally addressed to silly sheep—in order to fleece the foolish victims. THE LAST LOVE OF FRANCE. T is wonderful to find how much love for Louis Napo- LEON has been bottled up men for the last five-and- twenty years without their being aware of it. Nobody would have sus- pected that there was such a large stock of the essence of parfait amour lying all over France for consignment to the hero who was driven off to cap- tivity twelve years ago } in a Boulogne bathing machiae, Lours Napo- LEON may well say to the French, in the words of the Irish songster— “ It was all very well to dissemble your love ; But why did you kick me down stairs?” or rather—“ why did you kick me sp stairs?’ for they bundled him up to the prison in the upper town without ceremony, when he made his celebrated “descent” on the coast, with his Champagne, his sham soldiers, and his real eagle, from the rocky mountains of the Colosseum. The French have certainly a singular knack of “never telling their love,” when it might be of some service to the object of their secret affection, and reserving the avowal of their sentiments til] a period when what they think is a matter of perfect indifference. There is something qui‘e romantic in the discovery that the French have been during the Bourbon and Orleans dynasties secretly in love, for the last seventeen years, with the man whom they have been alternately in the hearts of French- | las “ con incarcerating and sneering at daring the whole of that period. Per ment like a worm in the bud” is the usual concomitant French affection, and it professes attachment openly to one while secretly loving another, we may find hereafter the feelings of France to have bg on = pe im some other quarter when her protesta- tions of love for Louts NaPoLeon were at their hottest. We suspect that “the lady does profess too much” already, to be quite free i from suspicion, and Louis NaPoLeon shows how jealous he is of her, by trusting her as little as possible, and allowing her no liberty whatever. While Louis Napotzow was at Lyons, we are ‘told by the report that “ A trinmphal arch, painted in the Prince's colours, was raised in the middle of the quay, near the slaughter-house.” The party of the arch to the slaughter-house was not inappro- priate, and, as the French would say, ‘‘ the fact was significant.” The meaning of the incident is still further enforced by the announcement that “The garrison, consisting of 15,000 men, was drawn up in order of battle on the Place de la Charité (a pretty spt truly for battle array), the Cavalry restingon the Place de Prefecture, the Artillery with their guns on the Place Bellecour, the Engineers in the streets opposite the Place, the Infantry and the Chasseurs of Vincennes in double files in the streets through which the PaesipeNT was to pass.” When we hear so much of the love expressed by the people for Lous NAPOLEON, in connection with these military arfangements for keeping their enthusiasm within limits, we are remin of the cnaledeation of the stage fiend, “ You must learn tolove me—ha! ha!” and cannot help drawing a parallel between the hero of the Boulogne Champagne and the Bottle Imp. The Best Screw Propeller. Tue most effic'ent screw propeller, and the one which has rendered the greatest service to the vessel of the State, has certainly been Ma. Josera Hume, and it would only be a fisting compliment for Govern- ment to give the next ship that is fitted 5 ee that economic principle the name of the Honourable Member for Montrose. William Bradbury, of Ne. 13, Upper Webure Printed Ww bard Street, im tne Precinct ef Whitefriars, in Office tn Otty ef Leudos, and tm the Parish of St. Pancras, and Frederick Mallett Bvana, of No.7,Chares Rew, Published by them at No. &, Fleet Street ,'m the Pariah of Stece Newington, beth im tae of Middlesex, St. Bride's te the City of Ve by - Bt thee

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FOR SALE! A COMMISSION IN THE CHURCH MILITANT. For particulars, apply to Mesexs, Cuurcemovse, Solicitors, Chough-cum-Orow Parva. ‘Dae A= \. 4 acnitt ruven? #96 jr Yz sons, who’re in search of a berth in the Church ; Ye maidens, whose lovers have just been ordain’d ; Ye who think you ’ve a call, let us here tell you all, Where the wished for preferment may soon be obtain'd. Indeed, any possess’d of the means to invest Will certainly find, for the next presentation To a snug little living, their cash to be giving, Must prove a delightfully safe speculation. The zealous would find it a place to their mind, As there’s room in the parish, we own, for improvement : Since Dissenters abound in the district around, And of late there ’ve been signs of a Catholic movement. Though, to those who love ease, little trifles like these Will scarce seem enough from the place to estrange ’em ; “ These evils have grown by no fault of our own,” They may say, “ And we can’t be expected to change ’em.” And if any buyer should chance to inquire ow long for this living he’s likely to wait, he May learn that, indeed, he will quickly succeed, As the present incumbent is just turn’d of eighty : For, in truth, to be sure a good price to secure, — (Since we only may sell you the next presentation) We looked out on each side, when the !ast vicar died, For one whose great age was his qualification. But, lest motives so should be misunderstood, It were better, perhaps, not too closely to scan ’em, Or to be very nice, if you get at fair price A living worth nearly a thousand per annum. And if we should be told how they fared, who, of old, In the Temple would barter and chaffer for pelf,— We have only to say, had we lived in that day, We'd have sold, if we could, &&n the Temp'e itself. Death in Sport. In a Report of the proceedings of the British Association Dr. J. D. MagsHaLt stated, on exhibiting a specimen of “ Bonararte’s Gull,” that it was “the only one hitherto shot in Europe.” The learned has forgotten that several hundred specimens were shot in the streets of Paris on Dec. 2. _ A Motenry Mistaaxe.—That 81. Pstaicx didn’t drive the M‘Hatzs instead of the vermin out of Ire!and. VOL, XXIII. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. | .WHAT DIVIDES THE SEXES ?—A RAZOR. | “Yes, Mr, Punch, that is now my established opinion. I have read |the Times ; and have digested the various assertions and arguments therein given in short at the great Female Convention, held at Syracuse. | | have studied the opinions as laid down by those gifted women—(if they will pardon me calling them such, until a bran-new and a much | better name is invented for them)—and believing them equal in all | things to us, I am convinced that the only difference between the sexes is, men shave, women do not, In fact, the only distinction between man and wife is—a razor, “T am a married man, Mr. Punch, and my name is Cavck, Rurvus Cuvck. I must own, too, that on a perusal of the 7imes article, | did | feel a touch—just a touch—of remorse. The fact is, I am alraid | have been a tyrant. A long and most familiar assertion and complaint of Mas. Cuvck is, in her own affecting language, that she has been crushed. She will often observe—‘ From the first hour of my marriage, |L have been crushed.’ If | venture to look remonstrance, she adds, | "herman Ape you know it, Cnuck, you know it.’ “Well, Mr. Punch, having read the arguments of the Convention at | Syracuse, 1 am convinced, subdued, ashamed of my position as one of | the tyrants, man. fact is, we have too long had it all our own | | way—too lone been uppermost. It is quite time that women should | assert themselves, and snatch the rod of iron from our hands. We have, | | 1 fear, been tyrants because they have been willing victims; not but | what the wife of my bosom (if she will pardon the weakness of the | expression,) has more than once anticipated the energy of Mua. J. EvizaBets Jones, of Ohio, and bas not always been ‘in the habit of talking much about women’s rights.’ She, too, bas been one of those | women who, instead of talking about rights, ‘/ook ’em, without saying | anything about ’em.’ Yes, 1 think I can say as much—now and then | —for the energy of Mus Cuvck. “When I wedded Mus. C.— (thirty years ago, Sir, she was white | and pink and delicate as Dresden china, with a little foot that might have stood tiptoe on a daisy, and a figure that—but let me proceed)— | well, when I wedded Mrs Cuuck, the marriage service would hardly |melt in her mouth, and now——‘ but there are wrongs,’—I quote her very words, Mr. Punch—‘ that would melt a poker.’ “ But, Mr. Punch, let men and women come to a fair adjustment, We have had our way for a few thousand years, let the women have their turn. We resign the eceptre into their hands: we kneel and do homage. Let us, as men, retire into the violet shade of life, and let women ‘rule the court, the camp, the grove.’ Let us, as men, forego the brutality of authority, and, giving up our places, study to be humble and useful, “ Fortunately we (if the we is still to be admissible; but in the new holy divided state, I presume it will run I and Ae) have no little chil- dren ; because, though I have domestic talents, | don’t think I should be | good at nursing. To get a baby on its first feet would, I think, ex |me; neither could | ‘ change ’em,’ as | think it’s called—but (1 would wish to speak with diffidence) I have an eye and something of a hand | for housekeeping: so have many married men of my acquaintance, | have twice in my life—when absent from Mas, Cuuck—put a button |on my shirt: once for a weger—when Mas. C. was at Margate—stuffed a goore, roasted it, made the gravy and compounded the apple-sauce. I assure you the jolly dogs—(I mean the despicable typente, for they were married)—who dined with me, voted it excellent ; and after- wards said as much to Mas. Cuuck, who, I remember, replied—‘ Of course, yes; that was always how she was crushed.’ “And surely, Mr. Punch, there are men who may—with common energy—learn to make tea: to do crochet work: to get up fine linen: to do everything in fact that hitherto has been most crushingly heaped upon women, At all events, | say, in common fairness let us try. “ Let all our sailors be discharged, and the sailors’ wives—(of course they must allow us, I speak for cur sex, their half-pay)—man, that is, woman our navy. Let the army be disbanded, and the Connaught Amazons take the place of the Rangers, and the Sharptalkers that of the Sharpshooters. “| don’t care much about it, but I suppose when they take posses- sion of the houses of Parliament, they’li let us have our gallery, where we may bring our work. “ Any way, Mr. Punch, \et us resign. Man and wife have too long | been one—‘ the man being al! the One, and the woman being Nothing’ —as Maus. C. once observed when she was crushed—henceforth let them be Two: an independent Two, in this manner: II equal in everything; with, as I say, nothing but the fine edge of a razor between them. “ In the jast hope of a speedy settlement, I remain, Yours “Rorvus Cavuck.” “PS. Is it true, Mr. Punch? 1 have heard that Docron Exiza | Witnetwtwa Coptic, Massachusetts, bas found a new reading in a discovere@MS.: namely, that Apam was created from a rib of Eve, aud by no means Eve from a rib of Anau! R

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AAR meas Dey Why 89 eile 6 A EWTN PAE BPG OSS ee ~Necnirecihencmanint 156 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. MISS VIOLET AND HER “ OFFERS.” ee CHAPTER XVIII, AND LAST. BYFRRING to the letter (as official people say—mention the fact to your husband) which I did myself the easure of writing to you, ns, Viotet Swe .ise- TON, some six months since, touching the publication of the memoirs of your going- to-be-married life, am inclined, rather, to suggest that you might begin to consider your revelations as sufficiently expansive. Moreover, my distinguished child, Parliament is shortly to meet, and the new Member for Pocketburgh will require all your affec- tionate attentions during the hours that illustrious senator can spare from his reparatory course of MILL, 1aLiaMm, and Don’s Hand- book of Parliamentary Eti- quette. So, if you think— and 80 forth, why — ef In obedience to papa’s hint, for he is always right, I have arrived at the end of the series of chapters dear Mr. Punch was 80 good as to say he should be happy to receive as long as Miss Vio.tet thought proper | to write them. But I havea world of things to tell in ashort space, and | how I shall manage it I do not know. The bit from papa’s letter will, | however, let everybody into two great secrets. And how certain events | came about, so suddenly and yet so pleasantly, shall be told by another on. He is to be a great speaker, and he shall begin by speaking or me. Here is part we letter which he wrote me. Of course, | have | not copied out any of the expressions which are, I believe, customary in | such cases, and which, though the young gentleman is supposed to use | them with sincerity, and the young lady to read them with pleasure, | always make third parties laugh. Now, a Member of Parliament must not be laughed at. Pockelburgh, Thursday, | * * | { r vat ult ry ore Wie tor — ¥ \ “My peargst VIOLET, * . . * “T am the Member for this place, at least as much to my own | astonishment as anybody else’s, but never mind that—it is a great fact —-ALBANY Swe.iineton, M.P. addresses you. “There ’s a banquet to-morrow, or I should be up by express train to- | night, and with your papa before breakfast to-morrow. But I have | written to him by this post ;—my invaluable friend Zacnany Ktne- — the old conveyancer, in whose chambers I have been reading so hard, and who has done me such essential service, advised me to | write. Not that | wanted any advice to do ¢hat, for * ° ° * * * > . * * * “ KryestLver came down at the request of the Ear. or Macuicot- | LATION, the owner of this borough, to discuss some alterations the Earl wanted to make in the arrangement of his property, in conse- quence of his eldest son, Lonp Portcu.tis, having changed his mind about a marriage, the HonovrnaBie Mr. Donsonxezep, the second son, having turned restive in political matters. Hutre nous, Don Jouy, as we called him in the Mediterranean, is in love with a girl in the Ministry (her father is, I mean), and love, you know, or I hope you know, is * . * * * * * . (These stars represent five pages of really very beautiful writing.) “ Well, old Zachary asked me to come down with him, and I was only too glad to show him attention. I went to the hotel in the town, and he proceeded to Frowningdown Castle. We learned, on arriving last Monday, that the nomination for the borough was fixed for yesterday, and of course all the old canvassing and speechifying work was going on, work in which [ did my part some time ago for | Mumace Frrzetums, who stuck in his maiden speech, and fainted into | his hat. So I was quite at home, and in other days I should have found out some fellow I knew—or knew his cousin, or his yacht, or discovered some other basis of friendshi, amg be plunged into the fun ; “y! : a wn sage, and [ thought | might make things awkward | at the t return, and read De Lotme on the Constitution as weil as I could for the riot the drunken constituents were making all over the house. And though the situation was not the best for such thoughts, I sat = = . . considering whether * * * + 7 ~ “ Suddenly Mr. Kincsitver came into my room in a great hurry. took the book out of my hands, and pointed impatiently to my hat and gloves. I knew his way too well to be surprised, and in three minutes we were in a carriage with the MaCHICOLLATION arms on it, hastening to the Castle. “*Old Brometow (he meant your admirable love) says you can speak very well. You ain’t hoarse, to day, 1 hope,’ said Mr. Kisc- sILVveR, who was blinking with his eyes, and pulling at his nose, in a most impatient manner. ‘I say,’ he said, after a pause, during which [ was puzz'ing at his meaning; ‘I say,’ he added most earnestly, ‘ Give it well in about moderate reforms, and hit hard at the Ecclesiastical Courts—they ’ve no friends. I don’t see that you should commit your- self to much.’ “| was still staring, when the Castle horses, which had stept out splendidly, rattled us over a paved court-yard, and Zacuary would hardly wait for the door being opened before tumbling out and pullin me with him through a gloomy hall, and into a grim old library (haunted, I’m certain), and then he stamped because no one was there, and rang the bell vehemently. “© Where’s the Karl ? “* Haddressing the folks in the jaiced yard, Sir,’ said the servant. ** * Old fool,’ 1 could bear Zacu. mutter, perbaps he even put the sentiment a trifle stronger. ‘ Come on, ALBANY, can’t you ?’ “* Through the Castle, and into the joust-yard we hurried, and there we found long tables in the open air, and a couple of hundred men, tenants of the Earl, banging the tables furiously, while the Loap of MacHICOLLaTION was haranguing them. On, Viotet! what rubbish the old fellow was saying; bat bis fine white hair, and soldieriy manner helped it wonderfully. “*Take him easy, said Ma. Kuxestiven to me, still ary om ee on towards the Karl. ‘ Say something about PortcuL.is’s nowever,’ “* What's the matter with his legs, except that one’s as bandy as the other?’ I asked; for | remembered the Viscount in France. He used to pester poor Dominique, at the Café de Paris, by inventing wild- sounding dishes—such as (Hillades de ‘oco (vert) aux catafalques ana- baptistes, and nonsense of that kind. “* Aceident—railway—no chance of taking his seat, all our men must be up for the first field night, and the trial of strength. So you are to be returned with Guropper, the other candidate; I’ve made it all right. There’ll be a contest, but you’re both safe—there’s a clear ~ yrity cheering the old pump now. O, he’s done. Now make your w. “ The old Earl came forward, and welcomed me with a sort of stately cordiality by no means out of keeping with the whole scene. He _ me some gracious compliments, hoped that our acquaintance would be long and intimate, and presented me to the assembly as the gentleman of whom he had been speaking. : ; “*You know, tlemen,’ he said, in such a sonorous voice and with such a frank smile, that the humbug really seemed all right, ‘that I never presume to dictate to my tenantry, or to interfere in their elections, beyond taking that interest which a friend must take in his friend’s affairs. But I own it would me much under the inful circumstances which for the present exclude my son, Viscount ORTCULLIS, from Parliament, should your free and unbiassed choice | | fall upon Ma. Atsany SWELLINGTON.’ “I suppose, dearest Viouer, that a man has his moments of inspiration. My thoughts rushed to you, and * * *. I seemed suddenly to comprehend my exact postion, and, stimulated* * *, the words came. Being moderately reformed myself, I spoke as became a moderate reformer—in an Karl’s joust-yard—and [ delivered an enormous speech, which, as Lonp Macuico.iation and old Kine- siLvek looked evidently delighted, and the tenantry shouted applause, must have been about the right thing to say. The nomination took place yesterday, and there was a great fight round the bustings, and a dashing charge of mounted farmers—the ital is full of the wounded and bruised. To-day we have had the fierce strucglé: the quarry-men came down from the hills with iron bars to smash the Ear/’s men, and the miners came up from the shafts, with loaded biudgeons, to | demolish the Anti-castleites. Patriotism ran so high at last that we had to send off for Light Dragoons. However, at the close, the numbers were Jexnincuam Grosser ° ‘ . p P 203 Atsany Sweniixctow . ‘ ° . ix 201 Syrtcn Cuawier , ” ° , . F 182 Glorious Majority for Sweciincton over Caawizr 19 for Zachary, if 1 went ahead without quite compre-| I have only waited for theexact numbers to write to you. And now, hending how parties stood. SoI shut myself up till Zacu. should| dearest VioLet, a new field has been opened to me. But | have

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Tt | | of his country he assented to jn i t one thought only, namely, that my success may be a stepping-stone! habttinenaty ht Ubeetons. Dear ALBasy made a beautiful they understood, but which was | who read it to her papa from the new came to town, and | better by ae pee nt ane And then the a 4 , Ma. Kunestiver (a dear old | = of as speedily | so that his mind might be in the calm condition desirable in| astatesman. Papa remarked, that if he had one quality than another largely developed, it was patriotism, and for the sake ; and Mr. Kive- s, Miss Vioue? was SILVER concurring, and promising early p requested to appoint her wedding-day—and did. A HAPPY RELEASE. EING very tender-hearted, we are not in the habit o: looking forward with any particular to the approaching end of a fellow. creature, but we must con- doomed by a reeent act of Parliament. A late statute gives power to the Lonp Cuance.ior to extinguish the Masters in Ohancery, but the friends of humanity will be glad to hear that the process will be one of utterly painless extinction, as full salaries will be attached to their annihi- lated condition. The act of terminating the existerce of these officials is deli- cately described as “ re- leasing them ;” and, indeed, it wili be a “ happy release ” for the Masters themselves, while it will put a vast number of suitors out of their misery in a still more effectual manner. Masters Faraer and BrovessM, as two of the old Masters, are doomed to « flicial death on the first day of next term, which will bring with it the term of their joint and several administrative existences. The legal massacre of the Masters will then proceed in due course until their total extermina- tion is effected. Their death-warrants will be issued to al! in turn, and all are prepared to meet their fate with cheerfulness. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori is a motto that might be fairly assumed by any one of them. As Uniike as Chalk and Cheese. It is a common observation to hear, “Oh! they are as different as Chalk is from Cheese.” Now, the difference between these two articles of commerce is not so great as persons may foolishly imagine. We all know that Chalk enters largely into the composition of milk, and we also very well know that Cheese is made from milk. Accordingly, it stands to reason that, instead of there being any violent difference there is, on the contrary, a a | resemblance between Chalk and Cheese. They are both members of the celebrated Casein family. Hope for Ireland yet! Mx. Buicur has been in Ireland for some days, studying for himself ih Seen ENE neiin-em ewig’ Shab, Ten, Cates bad A rumour s t in on Monday that De. Caniit a the poe anes Oe nee wb bis de e Doctor y has | re we only hope his departure, like Ma. Batcar’s arrival, is “for good.” . PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVAR! uced an allusion to “ bright eyes,” | hes | eee the geoneaaee t | appreeiated ce ne not very long, but I think a very satisfactory interview with papa, |): ; seid THE RAILWAY NURSERY RHYMER. | Now that it bas become proverbial that accidents audi , hat a salutary d of them anted in the minds of our rising generation. in” should in future be the y ine, y warned of this, as cf a lawyer's evil. of the bloody would have our nursemaids journey. o Railways are text: and one of the first chapters in on the Am.—* Ride @ Cock-Horse.” Fly by steam-force the country across, Faster than jockey outside a race-horse With time-bills misman , fast tenine efter slow, You shall have danger wherever you go, Am. Little Bo- Peep , Little b. le o-peep fast asieep, In th’ Excursion train you ’!! find him : Oh! it’s ten to one If he ever gets home— For a “ Special” is close behind him ! Am-—“ Hush-a-by Baby.” Rock away, r, in the third class, When ae a faster will pass ; When your train’s late your chances are sma!|— Crushed will be carriages, engine, and all. Arn.—“ Dickory, Dickory, Dock.” Smashery, mashery, crash ! Into the “ Goods” we dash : The “ Fxpress,”’ we find, Is just behind— Smashery, mashery, crash ! TALE OF A TIGHT GARTER, Once upon a time there was a garter, a wonder‘ul garter with “ Honti soit qui mal y pense” burning in it, as though written in sunlight. And this garter was for many years worn by a mighty leg—a leg that was one of the pillars—and such an iron, adamantine pillar !— of the land. But at length the leg reposed in dust; and the garter that had circled that leg was to be given to another—given to the worthiest. And the garter was given: it became the garter of another leg. And folks = bitter!y and cried that ‘hat garter—above all garters in the world—was too big for such a leg; it would—it must—drop over the shoe, and haply be soiled in the dust. And the thing happened altogether contrary to what folks had prophesied. For the garter upon that leg—as though the garter had life in it—grew tight about the leg, tight and tighter: and, with every step the leg took, the garter took a new grip; nevertheless the leg would not give up the garter. For the man who wore the garter in his vanity thought the better of his leg. “ What a great man I must be that my leg should be even too big for such a garter! But it is no doubt ever thus: great garters make great legs.” And though pinched and pinched every time he wore the garter, nevertheless— sweet and sustaining is conceit—he still wore the garter. The Continental Tour of Cardinal Wiseman. Ow Monday week Canpinat Wisemam presided over a grand ceremony at i, to inaugurate a miraculous statue of the Virgin, stated to have caught larks in its mouth upon the occasion of a famine. | He also headed a procession of another miraculous picture of the Virgin, _ of which the tradition is, that it would shut its eyes and whistle when- ever a heretic went by. At Valenciennes he was to accept a locket, eontaining a lock of hair that is recorded to have heen cut off Samson's head by a he was also , = 4 - ae a l Operation was performed. makes t} ion o' the latter relic still more wtinouloun fa, that it has retained to the present day the mark stamped upon one of its blades. That mark is distinctly “ SHEFFIELD.” net |

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R THE LONDON CHARIVAR! ROMANCE AND REALITY. Beautiful Being (who is ali soul). ‘‘ How GRAND, HOW SOLEMN, DEAR FREDERICK, THIS Is! BEAUTIFUL UNDER THIS ASPECT THAN UNDER ANY OTHER! Frederick (who has about as much poetry in him as a Codfish). FELLA Suwimetnc. S’posE WE asK HIM IF HE CAN GET US SOME A HUMAN ORCHESTRA. Heanine that an entertainment was to be presented, at the St. James’s Theatre, by an orchestra of human beings without anything to play upon, except the natural curiosity of the public, we hastened to assist at the inauguration of such a novelty. Nothing was said as to the nation to which the members of this enterprising band belonged, and we naturally concluded they were French, as the French seem to have sunk into the mere instruments of their present director. When the curtain ascended, a gentleman came forward to say a few words on the splendid science of ventriloquism, and illustrated it by asking “Jim” if he was “up there,” and receiving a reply from Jim that he was “ down here”’ in the approved ventriloquial fashion. As a further proof of what science had done for the human voice, he caught an imaginary bee in the palm of his hand, amid the usual amount of “ buzz” that attends that interesting exploit. Then came the Organophonic Band itself, represented by twelve stalwart men in military uniforms, who writhed and screwed their countenances into all sorts of shaprs, including angles and triangles, in imitation of the instruments of a full orchestra. The trombone kept up a perpetual snore, the human drum gave a series of s/accaéo grunts, and the cymbals kept up a succession of sneezes and shivers which gave one a sort of confused idea of something between one of CoLes’s Rheumatic Bands and a regular orchestra. Altogether, we were amused, as we generally are by whatever Mn. Mitcuett provides at the St. James’s Theatre; but we confess we did not wait for the bag- ipes, as the instrument is bad enough at His best, and our horror of a em wind-bag is almost as great as Mra. Can_y.ez could desire. A very astonishing part of the performance was the facility with which the human instruments, after twisting and curling their lips and noses into all inconceivable shapes, were able to get the creases and folds out of their countenances in two or three minutes. The most remarkable feature of the whole affair was the prominent feature on “Hu—Aun! | REALLY THINK THE OCEAN Is MORE Yes. Per-wars. By tHe way, BLrancne—TasERe’s a Pwawys FoR BWEAKFAST, TO-MORWAW MORNING ?” the face of the drum, who drew his nose up into his eye, and let it down again with a facility that had a terrible fascination for ba assembled audience. We looked very hard at the whole party, and felt we should have been doing them an act of charity to stare them out of countenance; but this we found impossible. To look at the painful faces they made, these human instruments appeared like instru- ments of torture; and it is perhaps in mercy, that they were only advertised for a week, lest the Animals’ Friends should interfere for their protection. “Treland for the Irish.’’ We have always been told of the excessive love of the Irish for their country, but the way in wh:ch thousands are leaving it every week is a peculiar Irish method of proving it. If the emigration only continues at its i rate, the cry of “ Ireland for the Irish” will have to be altered, for ina few years’ time there will not be an Irishman left in the whole island. it will then be “Ireland for the French,” or “Treland for the Yankees,” for we doubt if the English would stir a — in the matter—they have bad more than enough of Ireland y. The President—Pepin—and Charlemagne. Iw one of the cities, the Imperial President was addressed as “ Porz ZacHaRy addressed Perry Le Baer,” whom the President “ resembled.” A still greater resemblance—to use VoLTalRe’s words—might have been adopted. As thus, the Mayor might have solemnly said— - President, you are like the sword of CHARLEMAGNE, Yon an long and flat.” New Eprtion.—Just Published, Mapame CELeste. “ Life in the Green Bushes.” By

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THE CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER COMING DOWN EASY. Ocrosex 9, 1852

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side abst ya ygee uncgeietenayt ym OebUa reget Hh PNM enh 8 MDP Se 4S 99 eyelash re ee We ae ACT thn SA m cat a

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PUNCH, _ OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. TOPSY-TURVY. | (Being Verses by a Poor Man Puzzled.) | Brut Syxes’s home was a cadger’s ken, With a sack for a pillow and shavings for sheets : He was never taught nothin’ he don’t | know when, His grand tour was the tramp and his | school was the streets. | Bit Syxzs, at six, went out on the lurk | Among the barges, as mud-lark and raker | Brow Sram at ten, was advanced to| work As covering boy to an old e!y-faker. With higher ambition Brix Syxes he'| urned, i, becoming experter as he grew From dy Oicking to crib-cracking turned, | And oo edies the jemmy no cove was | The law to Bris Syxes was a thing to break— The world to Brit Sykes was a place to prig in— What came in his way he would stoop to take, But he scorned to beg, and he couldan’t stand diggin’. And so Brut Syxes took the world as it wagged, In blissful confusion of “ your’n” and “ his’n,” Till in course of things Birt Sykes was legged, Tried, sentenced, and sent to a model prison. In prison Birt Syxes’s hair was cut, He was neatly dressed in gray and yellow ; = an excellent echooi he was a put, eli-fed, and clean-lodged—the lucky fellow! t at his ease, pe after a year thus , lodged, and at the cost of the nation, They sent him to Portland to sniff the sea-breeze, And complete his industrial education. And when he had learnt to hammer and chip ni” a stone-mason born, in the Portland’ quarries, t him on board a Government ship, off to Australia Brut Sykes wa carries. And then, when arrived in Botany With his ticket of leave, of a he ate full— If he chooses to hire, it’s ten shillin’ a da Lf he chooses to dig, it’s gold in hands all. Now making allowance for prison rules, Uncommon pleasant, I think, his fate i is— Schooled, fed, and lodged, taught the use of his tools, And at last shipped off to the Gold Diggins gratis. And now that we ’ve shown, by Brit Syxzs’s fate, How Government treats a blind ‘un and bolter— Pa listen, while I attempt to state story of hard-working, honest Grizs JoLTeR. c... JoTER saw light in a Dorsetshire co w and tesl vind and rain did rattle He was one of six, and the room for the lot Was a place where you’d not have housed your cattle. Oxp Jorter slaved that Gries might learn, Though it pinched his meals and stinted ited his sleeping ; And there was a shillin’ a week to earn At pickin’ up stones, besides cow-keeping. At sixteen Gries to farm work went, or his arms were strong and his heart was willing ; From pap light to dark his back was bent, his weekly earnin’s they was six shilling. namnindunukt ak (For e’en JoLtEexs wictims to Curin’s wiles is,) And then came the desperate struggle for life, With a gradual increase of little GILzszs. From morningtide till evensong— , Tain, or snow, whate’er the weather— The whole , or sick or strong, Husband and ife must toil together. Their clothes was old, but they must wear— meat was scant, but it must serve them ; On parish bread they scorned to fare, oe ne am ae them. 8o toiling, moiling, slaving still, From dark to-day to dull to-morrow, struggled manful with each ill can steep poor folk’s life in sorrow. But honest Gites bore up through all— Ne’er took to stealing sheep, or Though from the Union coemadte fall A shadow, evermore approaching : When news was brought, how there —— lands, Where on the other » Work was more plentiful than —_ Which set Gires Jourer’s mind in motion. “ Lord, Lord!” said a on coal we but get AA lft to that there happy island s sated “Ah!” sighed his wife—though doubtful yet How she could bear to leave the dry jand. At length Gires heard about a Board— Commissioners of Kmigration— bay a free passage to afford For labourers, to this blesséd station. Gites got an application made By help of an enlightened neighbour, Was cail’d to town—fiung down his spade— Half sad, half giad to leave his labour. He trudged to Park Street: in the hall we his heels four hours they kept him ; Then him, six weeks hence to call, And then they’d see if they could accept him. With heart of lead poor Gites return’d— Heart that had been light as a feather : And by odd jobs, for two months earn’d What just kept life and soul together. ee ap then he oe 7 ao is prayer w now ted Waele call’d—but shown the } As “ No more labourers were wanted |” So Joxrzx still, on Dorset leas, With wife and little ones is pining ; While Brit Syxes at the Antipodes, His pouch with virgin gold is lining. MORAL, Labourers as wage and wittles likes, Unto a jemmy turn the coulter— If you’d dig nuggets with Bit. Sykes, And not potatoes with Gites JoureR. HOW TO “FINISH” A DAUGHTER, l. Be always telling her how pretty she is. 2. Instill iato her mind a proper love of dress. 3. Accustom her to so much pleasure that she is never happy at | but novels. 5 hments, but none of the utilities, of life. 6. Keep her in the darkest ignorance of the mysteries house- | keeping. Initiate her into the principle that it is vulgar to do anything for hesualle “s. To the latter belief, let her have « ladies? maid. having given her an education, marry her to a 9. And las clerk in = ury upon £75 a year, or to an ensigm that is going | out to India. It, with the hove cavefal tunining, spur denghtee te eaP RRO yes ee ee escape [——— of a miracie. Worth any Money. > Saaiee his “ Practice” for sale, winds it u advantages, with the ee additional recom- —Not five minutes’ distance from a large Railway

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beng deiensy Dial amen eve him and licked the dust, an 162 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL THE PRESIDENT’S PROGRESS. (Being an Appendix to the Pilgrim's Ditto.) AND Lo! On my way I came toa fair city, and outside the gates thereof was gathered a great multitude, and Lord Lickspittle, the Prefect of the place at their head, and Captain Brute-Force, the commander of the garrison, on a great horee; and the chief councillors, Hosy-Man, Turn-with-the- Wind, Out-at-Eibows, aud Worldly-Mind, and a great multitude of soldiers with them. And | asked one of the soldiers, who seemed heavy with drink, what this great gathering might or. And he told me, with much thickness of speech because of his potting. that it was because of the Prince President Apollyom that came that way. Then I asked him what manner of man was this Prince President, that the great men thus came out to meet him. And he told me how he had, | once upon a time, saved the country from a great red giant Grim-gibber. And I asked him who had seen that giant, and where he dwelt? But he told me that no one had seen bim, nor knew well, of a surety, where he dwelt; bat that, past a doubt, he was an awful giant and a fell, and was to have come in this year and slain men and women and | children, and spoiled their goods, and put divers in prison and others driven over seas, but the Prince President had fought with him and mastered him, and so saved the country. Whereupon I asked him in what manner the Prince President had fought with this fell giant, when no one had seen him nor could surely tel] what form he was of? This he wist not aright, but, nevertheless, he told me how that the Prince President had truly conquered him; and, to that end, had in that city prison, and more banished. And | pondered much; for metlou them, could but have done the same. slain many thousands, both men and women and children, and had taken the goods of the Princes of the land, and put many thousands in| t the Giant Grim-gibber, if he had come among athless | held my peace, lest they should smite me. Then | heard Lord Lickspilile cry with a loud voice, “ Lo! here cometh my Lord. Shout!” Captain Brute-Force called also to the people in like manner. But they spoke not a word, save Hasy-Man, and Turn-with-the-Wind, and Out-at-Elbows, aud Worldly-Mind, who shouted till their throats were hoarse. Then | saw the Prince -— come riding; and Lord Lickspittie bowed down before quien | Rita _ { Ci Sy ; \ v ys slavered his legs, and page Pf Long live Apollyon the Great, that slew the great Giant Grim-gibber, and saved the lan | But when Lord Lickspittle saw that the Le said not a word—as in truth they had more of a mind to curse the Prince, thinking of their friends, and wives, and children that he had slain, and banished, and put in stinking holds— he was at his wit’s end, and wot not what to do. Then there came one Outword-Show, that was a mountebank and a rare trickster, and had de- vised a certain motion of puppets such that, when he pulled the wires, would — legs, and arms, and heads; and among them was a motion of young girls that came forth and strewed flowers, and danced after tne fashion of real maidens ; and Oulward-Show blew with a trumpet before them, aud said :— “Behold, our maidens come out to strew flowers before the great Prince ia And Lord Lickspittle was well pleased, gave Outward-Show certain pieces of silver that con- tented him marvellously, for he was a poor knave and a shifty, for all his witty devices, Then Captain Brute-Force commanded his soldiers that they should shout, and they shouted ; and the Prince Apollyon bowed his head, and Lord Lickspittle ered aloud, “ Behold the of the city ery, ‘Long live the great Prince Apollyon.’”” And the pen-men that were by wrote all this in their books, that it might be believed in far countries how that all in that city loved the Prince Apollyon, But, in truth, all this re- joicing came but from the Lord Lickspitile, and Captain Brute-Force and bis drunken troopers, and Kasy-Man, and Turn-with-the-Wind, and Out- at-Elbows, and Worldly-Mind, and the cunning rogue Outward-Show, with his motion, But methought the people cursed the Prince in their hearts, POLICY OF PEACE-INSURANCE. Lo! Masses mumbled to the cannon’s roar, And Eagles by embroidered bishops blest ; Soldiers and Priests combined on Gallia’s shore : These hate our faith and those our name detest. Is this a time to sit, unarmed, at rest ? Captain Brute-Force put his neck under his foot, and Zasy-| When scribes too, free to utter little more, England with menace unrebuked defy : | Pooh pooh! drab cockneys, give your twaddle o’er, | Inviting war. How soon, should foemen come, | You’d cease that cant, to scream, with mouths awry, | For those defenders whom you now decry ! | Ne’er let us beat again A n’s drum, | And trust there’s no attack for us in store : Meanwhile, my friends, we ’ll keep our powder dry! A Literary Flea-Bite. Hopson Tonwer talks of a jar xind of flea which is only to be met with at the British | Museum—and which, as he is sure it has no ‘name, he calls the Museum Fries. This must be the identical then, which Mz. Pawizzi | bas had so often in ear for not getting on , quicker with the Museum Catalogue. And No Wonder! | By a curious connection of ideas, whenever we read the advertisement commencing * 50,000 cungs,” for the life of us we cannot help thinking of Ma. _Ropext Moore, the Monster Piuralist. NO GOLD WITHOUT ITS ALLOY. | Tuere is a rumour that Dr. Canrit has gone over to Australia! | Man, and Turn-with-the-Wind, and Out-at-Elbows, and Worldly-Mind wept for joy and be- | i ia PoputarR Rattway Maxm.—“ Your money ‘AND your life.” | |

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P U omen OR

ATROCIOUS ATTACK ON A BADGER. Our susceptible readers—we thereby mean the Lo ape million—may have learned with a eaelerde Ca the unmanly attack that within these few os has been committed ty an unoffending unsuspicious badger —the badger at the t’s Park.

Thejnnocent animal was seized upon in a confiding moment, and its ~ a forcibly eee, by two “ gent as | they called themselves at the Police loathsome gin—burning, bli | thus isidiously forced into the animal’s stomach. Saake- | sPzaRe, when he would give the most touching picture | | of infant helplessness, of the babe sent away with | | “the innocent milk in its most innocent mouth.” Some- thing of this sort will, of course, arise to the imagination | of the reader, when he thinks of the destructive fluid in the innocent stomach of the badger. Directly Mr. Punch | heard of the atrocious act, he took his hat and cane, and drove to the Gardens. Toby was at first stopped at the | admitted.” Mr. Punch, however, | the courtesy that waved the | | rule in favour of Toby, he being, in the words of the —_ a dog sui generis; or a dog by himself—which, being interpreted to Toby, that gifted animal un derstood | to be a dog in a state of celibacy—upon which 7ody howled | accordingly. But we are forgetting the badger. | We were speedily us into A. presence of the | | sufferer, and found that an an ape of long-known, | though rarely-practised skill— been called in. At the} very time the Doctor was with his greens. We say—| Doctor : - in 8 htful lines of the ape’s counte-| | mance, es i a nose, we distinctly —?. — the | letters, F.R.C. The badger looked a little ee: | <A we have heard of badgers—like a lover of the —overdrawn ; and on , whole, thought the ow hy had very likely suffered less from the fire-water internally taken, than it might have done from the teeth of badger-worrying terriers. Having uy surveyed the sufferer, and dropt our one tear—the smallest oferog to wounded sensibility acknowledging our bow with a severe ting, bluely-ruining gin was) —we retired, the a yet withal dignified ¢ gravity that would have graced a Court —— Re Sr James CiaRk, upon our onour). we left the Gardens, we were obligingly presented whe a copy of the Docto Doctor's bulletin, as inter- preted by the Aisor of the caablshmens (oe (be was, years me sinee, we have heard, the Poet of Cremorne), and by him res ay meet Prue vin of doubled “2 pM. @ paroxysm of pain : le up like a hedgehog; and his best badger hair, that kings — ht have shaved with, sharp and ried. ealiet in help, unrolled him. Eyesfixed—pupils mueb dilated—pulse 120 —very indeed, for a badger. “ Raved cried out that the dogs were at him, but he wouldn’t be dunuted as he hed.boom- te, not for the best Office: a quantity of |

nobleman in the land! Evidently sitading to the festive acenes of former years. / “ Ordered patient to be pumped over : howled again, and | said he preferred hot, with sugar. Pulse falling. Ordered | | ten Teetotal Tracts, with treacle and butter, to be Demy as! pills. Couldn’t get ’em down patient's throat. Called i in} one of the pelicans ; deposited em in the very inside pit of, badger’s stomaeb, which—rejected ’em Ih “3p. m. Administered, in dove’s milk, powder of scraper | “ E peter Hall. Badger "fell into profound sleep—snoring | | eavily “5 p.m. Woke, weak, but not refreshed. Prescribed a) slight stimulant. Decoction of juniper-leaves, hot with | honey. Slept <9 | “Tru W a little languid, but sensible. Asked! him how he had liked his last prescription. Upon which, | with a light im his langhing eye, the badger made answer— | “Werry nice, indeed; but not qui/e the thing.” Slept again. “9 pm. Woke at nine: smacked his lips. Asked him if he could fancy anything; and if he could to name it. He did name it—‘ Gus.’ “11 p.m. Patient drunk and convalescent. “ Puesy Cocoator, M.D.”

Mepicat.—The best line of business for a medical man to follow is a Railway line. | screeching, abusi FO ee THE _LONDON CHARIVARI. 163

“ TIME WAS THAT WHEN THE BRAINS WERE OUT,” &c. « E have been requested by a candidate for the te office of Lorp Mayor’s Fool to be the we testi- w ich i is com- pred athe a A specimen which we en ‘no hesitation im sayi is quite bad eno’ to justify the ap cant in ambition. his low ae runs, or ts, = hobbles— "it is to be hoped is that the new Lorp yang will be careful as to what he eats and drinks at the Cay ant other —— during his year of office, for it would be sad indeed to have to speak of hereafter as the “ poisoned challice.” N.B. There is a note in the original manuscript, ating that Cuar.is is the | name of the alderman just elected to the Mayoral THE FRENCH JACK SHEPPARD. We do not wish to be disrespectful to the French Nation, but Louis Narotzon | puts us strongly in mind of Jack Suerrarp. He has been in prison—pe not so often as his ; but still he has \ his full — of imprisonments, and, like Jack, he has ways been successful in again, the coup d’état of December the Qud might pass almost for one of tke Shor: jan ex with the exception that Jack never perpetrated a burglary on so large a scale. R. the utmost be broke into a private house, when all the inmates were in bed, and stole the plate. He had never an unity of breaking into a nation, and it of all its liberties in the dead of the night. That was a nephew of an Emperor to lend his hand and crowbar a} was innocent e +S See ne ee ee ee There the comparison between him and the prison-escaping burglarious esident of France ends. To push it any further would be injurious to our favourite Adelphi hero. Beyond a certain point, his dark lantern is completely put out by the superior darkness of his rivals, s. nb humiliating impartiality, we are d to confess that France boasts of a greater Jack Sueprarp than we do. ois Napotzon is, by the whole length of the Boulev the greater man of the two. In the perfection of cool, reckless burglary, Mus. Kexexey’s beau idéal is no match for him! At present, the French Jack Suxrraxp is busy carving his name on the beam which holds the future scales of France. That name, we need not say, is EMPEREUR. A nation must be blind, indeed, to keep any such beam in its eye! ary reserved for the t Jacn’s crowbar DOCTOR MAC HALE IN LONDON. 1D ta — _ Hale

nicals, but im rags. Weare on the of an omnibus, | there are half-a-dozen tatterdemalion Irish boys, their rags ing about them, | whooping, shouting, begging, blackguarding for halfpence. Over over they go —turning C wheels—(holy St. CaTuentwe wheels !)—and sereaming and scrambling, now and then pieking up halfpence, flung to them, and a/ them. That little varlet in a brown tattered coat; shirtless, shoeless, hatless ; whining, for money—turning his Catherine wheels for coppers—that is Ireland, the lre of Doctor Mac a Along the line of road, the “ accursed Saxon” is black gon a rands—selling apples or doing some sort of work, and dome earnestly, quietly. But— Stand out of the way, you little blackguard Saxon with biacking brushes and | apple-basket ; out of the way, and let the glorious Celt whime and beg and abuse, and—turn his holy Catherine wheel !

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BG ¥ > i /- PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. | — KKK HINTS TO SERVANTS WHEN THE FAMILY | | ae ENGINES. IS OUT OF TOWN. ob didn ee ee ene ee eee ; _ railway pounds. According to the following extract : OW is your time to examine) « a soruen Excise Cartonen.—On Seturd y her of the Great N last the sta’e of your mistress’s | engines was impounded as a trespasser at the Nottingham Station by the M wardrobe authorities.— Sheffield Tvmes, ” 7 If the gowns should fit | it would seem that railway engines are as often in the habit of goi you, and the bonnets are out of all bounds as railway directors themselves. It would be curious coming, you may as well to hear the town crier going round the district, crying a “ Lost wearthem. = Engine,” or giving notice, that if the engine which had strayed into Should you invite a few | Mz So-axp-So’s china shop was not taken away within so many days, friends to tea, you receive jt would be sold to pay the expenses. ‘This kind of straying, however, is them in the drawing-room, | harmless compared to the straying and trespassing which railways of course — providing al-| have lately been indulging in. We allude to one train straying out of ways the drawing-room is its direct course, and trespassing upon another. For these trespasses, in a fit state to receive | which, when connected wiih the loss of life, can never be forgiven, there them. is no established pound, excepting such as a verdiet gives in damages : The least you can do for and what amount of pounds, we ask, can ever compensate for the loss of them when they leave, is 4 leg or a couple of arms, or the death of a dear relative! There will to ask the coachman to’ be no security for the public until a Director is compelled, by Act of tee them home in the | Parliament, to travel in every train. ge. If any children are left at |} —————"—-— SS =>] home in your charge, you | should send them to very early; or, su posing any of them should be suffi- ciently advanced to play the piano, you may let her stop up to play quadrilles | whilst you dance, | It is as well, however, not to let Jouwny smoke in their presence. | Itis probable you may find these children the great drawbacks to | your enjoyment, so you must be very careful what you do before them. | When you go out for a drive, you had better leave them at home; | when you play at cards you had better send them into another room ; when you wien to practise the piano, you should send them out walking , and if you expect any of the “ military” to drov in during the evening, you had better take the precaution of putting them to bed two or three hours earlier. As for their getting up in the nonin, that is to be entirely regulated by the hour at which you rise yourself. So, if you wish to read the | newspaper in bed, you needn’t ord yourself out on their account. | Besides, children like stopping in If you have any leisure for reading, there are master’s books; but, | should you prefer novels, can easily send round for them to Sams’, or the nearest re brary. Never mind about dog’ ing, or butter-thumbing, or coffee- spotting a book. It will never be wn who has done it; and if you wish to lend a book to a friend, why should you hesitate when the books are not yours? To guard against accidents, make the borrowers | always promise to bring the books back again. You should not neglect this good opportunity—as you will naturally _ have access, either by fair or foul means, to your mistress’s drawers— to | have all her caps, and gowns, and “ latest fashions,” correctly copied | by your milliner—(supposing you have not time to yourself)—so that you may wear them in your mistress’s presence when she comes back. Eat and — of the very best: have ~~ o> — (of course), and hot suppers, regularly every day—spare nothing—providing | Puryeyor of Poultry. “ WHat sort 0° P tN always you are not left upon board wages. In the latter case, the case Rating Sane ” ’ a a ee is very different ; but even then you can manage it, if you are clever, up of Sede, On? » eumment ami en é.cete with the different tradesmen, by telling them to charge what you con- Sieomase, emp “eam of ate Gua dae ane dae eel sume in the weekly bills, when “the family” returns to town. If the ~” “oe ' . e ; tradesmen, like fools, object, you have your remedy—you can change ————~— =— pi 5 i? them for others who are more reasonable. Your wine depends upon whether the butler drinks any himself. If Agricultural Intelligence. a . must give you some, or else threaten to expose him. We understand, from our own exclusive sources, that Ma. Disrazii plate has been left out, as a matter of course you use it. ten inah ememeieiin? tin _ imal ier Sachin You needn’t work more than you like. You are your own mistress, | b a hich hie distressed frien i. the. Aguienlicsists will, bs expecta, be and the principle is to enjoy yourself, more especially as your enjoy- ~ be natesielie enntated im meanian the benetneiahet te tepandiicial ment only comes once a 1 pg Accordingly you can go to the theatre | + be “ loomi y: the fut: ae as often as you can afford it, and stop out as late as you please, so long Seng 5 he See as you shut the door after you. The only thing you have to guard | inne against is a surprise; but as “ the family ” is pretty sure to write home Gifts to Louis Napoleon. word to tell you when they intend returning, there is not much fear of eS ee ay ee eg hi aati _ any such accident. Then, providing the house is cleaned, a few of the | = hi made On the embryo ite" soul to hee lave be | books put back, the piano not much out of tune, the curtains not) Very, ‘unin. © ne city — ite Why! UIs iid not P — smelling of tobacco, the clothes all returned to where you took them ®™0tHer, Roanne, gives ite heart. y, ‘ong since, not Paris from, and the children properly subdued, by tremendous threats of | Present him with “ its foot ? extermination, into silence, your master and mistress need not have | the slightest suspicion how you have been enjoying yourselves whilst they have been out of town. if Not tee Siicutest Doust ssout 1t.—A young lady being asked whether she should wear a wig when her hair turned grey, replied with A Rerrrep Frvyxey. ‘the greatest earnestness, “Oh! no, [’ll die first.” } | } | | | | rimted by William Bradbury, of No. 13, Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of $t. Pancras, and Freierick Mullett Evaas, of No.7, Chareh Row, Stoke Newington, both in the County of Middlesex, Printers, at their )ficeim Lombard Street, ia the Precinct of Whitefriars, in the City of London, axa “udlished by them at No. 9, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride's in tne City of London.—Saruapart, October 9b, 1857

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PUNCH, OR THE , LONDON CHARIVARI. AN ELEGANT EXTRACT. “My Deap Ma. Poncn, October 8th, 1852. “ ALTHOUGH, unfortunately, I am one of the ig-eyed, bullet- bad- , slavish, lumbering am a) headed, long- humble admirer of truth when meet with it, and hasten to A as far as it is in the power of such a pot-bellied sulky boor, the pro- found remarks of the gentleman who so elegantly addresses the Times of yesterday. What candid man, of any perception, will not recognise | at once, in the following feeble sketch, * THE PLAT-PACED, SMALL-BRAINED, PROWLING ANGLO-SAXON. And who will not see at a glance that he does not possess the “ cranial ity,” nor the “ ph ,” of the dominant race? On the other hand, can there be any one 20 "blinded by dulness or prejudice, as to deny that this is “THE TRUE TIPPERARY MAN WHO WILL FERRET THE SAXON OUT OF RAILWAYS, COAL MINES, Kc.” The question allows of no dispute. It is as clear as noon-day; and one does not know which to admire most,—the correctness of Ma. Mac ELHERAN’S or the use he makes of it. “I am, Sir, your humble Servant, “ An Iut-Mape Saxon, WITH A MOP OF To — Punch, Eeq. (a Celt, of course.) PLAX ON HIS HEAD.” THE WEDDING MORNING. (ADDRESSED TO THE MARRIAGEABLE.) | | Ewcouracgp by the success which has attended the efforts of the ori of the ne aes Mr. Punch respectfully announces to the nobility, gentry, and (Protestant) clergy, and all other persons ale or liable to marry, is about to open an 4 cotailiotment for the supply of everything requisite real desirable at a Wedding. | He purposes to confide the providing the mere necessaries, as wines of the rarest vintages, the breakfast, plate, china, servants, carriages, and bride-cake, to the —— who ‘nabatually advertise their ——" | to undertake such vision, so far as he knows, | themselves a great P oredit. They wil of course, be enchan ‘0 act as subordinates im carrying out the scheme he is now about to submit. The first startling novelty of Mr. Punch’s system is, that he under- takes to provide The Other Party. Any lady or 9 —- who may have obtained her or his content to be married, has to write to Mr. Punch, fA .. “the breakfast and the oan if wished, one of Mr. Punch? ill_ attend | r. ¢ young men w a desirous to ae arid with ast ae of Other Parties on band The selected Party exchanged if not ved of, buf, in the case of a | lady ust Inder ine tealee o'clock, or a gentleman, than six o’clock on the day preceding that of the ceremony. Hair and teeth warranted, | but neither age nor temper. Any amount of certificates and testi- m “aed however, may be had as to an t, Mr. Punch having several eminent Begging Letter Writers to manufacture these | i” order. Arrangements with the leading Ladies’ Establishments in the metro- | | polio and suburbs, enable Mr. Punch to offer selections from an assortment of the most charming Bridesmaids who ever cried before ‘an altar, Due will, of course, be had in producing, or in wae ogee 4 between a lady and ba — oats. group of old maids, e qiee, ke or occasions when younger bridesmaids may be deemed undesirable Several ae, with others of more mature years, | have been ys be ready to enact the Bridegroom’s friends, bro’ 1 cousin, cchew! fellows, or any yd Pan that | | may be desired. (Parties finding their own plate need be under no | apprehension for their spoons, a policeman, disguised as a City uncle, iered” accompanying the party.) Moustaches, or not, as may be A heavy Father, either for Bride ‘or Bridegroom, can be provided, be warranted to sob audibly at the ceremony, and, if wished, convulsively, and call for water in the vestry. — a chastely pathetic speech for the breakfast. oon wal also be sent to return thanks for the brides- nai Mr. Punch’s connexion with the journal bearing his name | we warranty for this party being supplied with novel and discreet jokes, Clergy furnished according to the wee oS of the ae. Those of of tet arg. conmanption ya agen gs may oe ee 0 oC et of the good things o ta a | toca charged extra, on account of the cost of the dress, ‘on be used for nether (except on the fifth of November) ; Pat it waged ha tia oficial be et oir Punch's selection, he an [rishman. ‘A Member of Patienont owe family solicitor (clerk | with y in the way, extra), a Peer, » Baronet, a Banker, or any other character which may be thought desirable to cline the ‘cat of the alfir, will be wupplied at the shortest nti we bg AG Soa eetiok Attached servants, of oath sexes may be wished, since chil who have known either Party, as be included, and wil! cry violently, cither in the hall, or in coffee, or at any cue which may oa oS eer cree etot eace yes bp or mistress (whose father mag A his life) may be ad, but is on the staff of a suburban theatre, this a | (must be arranged so as not to interfere with his hour for in waiting. ay A fashionable milliner and a first-rate tailor, alw wedding presents Sentiments of such com- Love-letters, as also letters of from distant friends, in ot inserted to , and warranted to read well when munications handed round. N. B. Christenings on a similar system, and cv0rything found, except the Buby. A Sus-Rpsron’s | Morro (On a Pe Paper).—* Always to put off till to-morrow the things that cannot be published to day.’ VOL. XXIII.

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Ng RE Deer ste 166 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVAR! UNCLE TOM—“THREEPENCE” A HEAD. , Mz. Boswortu—the pub- lisher of the au- it appears, sponta- Uncle Tom sold by him. We are happy to be enabled to state the fact; Mus. Strowe’s letter in acknowledgment having been pub- lished. Mr. Boswortu has honourably led the way with his threepence. Who follows ? Gentlemen blishers, don’t g back domg ™ _ (to your- selves) by stealth ;”’ > bat come out in the October sun- light that “ tips you with gold;” and in return, tip a little silver—even the silver of a threepenny bit. Mas. Stows has built herself a monument in the human heart ; let English publishers raise a momument—in precious metal—to the advantage of Mas. Stowe. All honour to Ma. Bosworth for his first ga threepence. If every publisher will contribute ina like egree, Mas. Stowe will have an all monument in ready base may be five sovereign pieces ; | metal, a monument whose whose apex, silver pennies. é Now, gentlemen, whom sha!! we name for the next contributor ? MY HEART’S AT NEWMARKET. DEDICATED TO THE JOCKEY CLUB. (Adopted by the Head of the “ Canexow Cabinet.”) My heart’s at Newmarket, my heart is not here; | My heart’s at Newmarket with Francis Burzezg ; atching the Hrssurp marshal “ cracks” in a row, And hearing him utter the magic words—“ Go! ” Farewell to Newmarket ; farewell to the North, Near whose Malton Joun Scorr tests my two-year olds’ worth; Though o’er dull State papers my eyes now must rove, The wide wolds of Malton for ever [’ll love. Farewell, my “black jacket, and cap white” as snow, Which in triumph has swept many Grand Stands below ; Farewell, trial horses, lead pouches, and hoods ; Farewell, telegraph, scales, Cuan, and “ Tarrersact bloods.” My heart’s at Newmarket, my heart is not here, My heart’s at Newmarket with Francis Butrere, Watching the Hrssvrp marshal “ cracks ” in a row, And hearing him utter the magic words—“ Go.” (Signed) Denby. The Turn of a Hair. Tost who are acquainted with the expensive habits of Lovis Napo.eon, declare that he thinks lesa cf the ‘dignity’of his present position than the salary, and that he is only cultivating the imperial for the sake of the tip. A Ruinous Inheritance. A DISTINGUISHED gourmand, upon being reproached about the large sums of money he spent on the pleasures of the table, excused him- self by saying, “It’s no fault of mine! My father was a great eater—my mother was a great drinker, and I[ inherited largely from both.” Tue Goro Fsver.—This fever is a remittent one, considering that large sums of Gold are remitted every week. A MAYOR’S “DAILY BREAD.” _ Lous Napotgow continues his progress th France. The egg is chipped, and the eagle is already half-hatched : bees are beginning to swarm, and in due season will alight upon the e—bees, doubt- less, full of honey from the historic lilies of France; the lilies are still in the shade. Nevertheless, Louis NaPoLzom towards a throne—marches in a golden haze much false emotion got up at so a cost—never did printer’s ink » (government ink, be it remembered) reek with such falsehood. Honest — men stop their noses at the official histories of the triumph. Everywhere, Mayors are on their bellies, licking the boots of NapoLeon—licking them like s s—as though there was the taste of manna in the blacking. Aad the basest of all these is the Mayor of | @ commune in the department of Huiczault. Hear how the impious dog yelps !— “* Our Prince— You who are in power by right of birth, and by the aeclamation of the people, your name is everywhere ; May your reign come, and be tuated by the immediate acceptance of the Imperial Crown of the great N aroLEon ; may your firm and wise will be done im Pramee, as abroad. Give us this day our daily bread, by—" We have given enough; and would, had we the power, assuredly give to the Mayor daily bread, amd after this fashion, for some ten days or a week at least. In punishment of the impious we would have his hands tied fast at his bask; then we would have him laid aah gently—within a few yards of a tolerably dirty gutter. ato this gutter we would break im gmall morsels, a couple of pounds of bread per diem—and be the “daily bread ”’ vouchsafed to the Mayor of Hainaalt. course he would have to wriggle, and twist, and crawl towards the gutter, and then have to duck for the fragments. But crawling and duckingare the Mayor’s specialty ; and then for his reward, would be the “ bread,” though not quite of the sort he blasphemously prays for, something very wrong about the weights that are used, or the scales are not fairly balanced. At all events we think the scales in which such apparently #weven justice as what we are about to describe was weighed out, should be treated as defective, and dealt with accord- ingly. , 2 the first case a sailing-master was absent without leave for eight days, and in the case @ Lieutenant was absent without leave for five days. In the first case py oad peg “ a mind upset by recent family misfortunes,” while in the case the prisoner’s plea is not given, but it could hardly have been stronger than the one already cited. Tn each case, witnesses were called to the excellent character of the | accused, and the reader may probably antici about as much differ- ence between the two sentences as con is between the five days and eight days, during which the oe were respectively absent from their duty. Now for the result. In the first case, “the Court declared the charge partly proved, and sentenced the prisoner to be dismissed from Hen Masesty’s service. | In the second case, “ The Court declared the charge to be fully proved, and sentenced the prisoner to be severely j “og : | It would seem from this, that a charge partly proved is more serious to the accused party than a charge thoroughly brought home to him, and the weaker the evidence against a prisoner the stronger will be his punishment. We are afraid there must be something wrong in the scales supplied for the use of Naval Courts Martial, Perhaps the same habit of bungling in the dock-yards, that frequently causes a neW ship to lean too much on one side, has affected the paraphernalia of justice, and prevented her from weighing out with an even hand the _commodity she deals in.

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3 ” m) e 0 [- 5, 0 d 10 e, e f. y. 0 a re er 1e in e j. to Louis Napotzon, for “ Amen” read “ No men.” PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVAR) SPECULATIVE SYMPATHY. “Mr. Porca, “Some little time sirce we had the misfortune to lose a relative. A day or two afterwards arrived a letter, addressed in a| Jady’s hand, the stylish look and deep black-bordered envelope of which made us think it was one of condolence. But it proved to be from some linendrapers in Oxford Street, offering us their sincere sympathy, and a mms of crape, &c., and a card of terms somewhat as follows :— TO THE BEREAVED +e MESSRS. GROGRAM AND TWILL Bre to offer you their condolences upor your recent loss, and to forward you, with assurances of their sympathy specimens selected from their large stock of Crapes, Widows’ Silks, Twills, &c. O! Ys, whose hearts, half crushed beneath the blow Of some sad loss, still struggle to be calm, Receive, to soothe your unavailing woe, Our crape and comf.rt, bombazeen and balm. Taught, by our own, your sorrows to relieve, Our the cheapest in its sad sad line, Sells, with an aching heart, to all who grieve, Rieh widows’ silks, yard wide, at six-and-nine. The heart, dear friends, of sunshine and of showers Oft times an equal dispensation needs, To ripen in it Virtue’s faires: flowers ;— And we have got the newest mode for weeds. Then murmur not, though with the last caress Of these you loved your aching brow still glows ; | But bumbly strive your sorrow to repress, And take a such as we enclose. Eech day some loved one hastens to his end, And from your grief few morta's may escape ;:— And Paramatta’s what we recommend, For you will weep, and tears are bad for crape. “* The cock’s sbril! clarion and the sounding horn No more shall wake them from their quiet bed,” The poet tells; and if fer this you mourn, Try if owr bugles wil not do instead. And oh! ye mourners; oh! ye weary hearts Dry the vain tear, and hush the loud /ament One solace more our tender firm imparts,— For ready money it drops ten per cent. “ Sweet are the uses of Adversity,” _ As Suaxspeane says. Ab! Had the bard but known The use we he would have smiled to see How far our knowledge had excelled his own. Doxon.” FLUNKEYISM IN FRANCE. FLUNKEYIsM has been rampant throughout the Presidential progress : but we think Bordeaux bas furnished the most glaring instance of it. For we read in the Constitutionnel that— ‘ Delegates have come to Paris expressly for the purpose of procuring the most exact information as to the livery worn by the servants of the President: the authorities of Bordeaux being anxious that those who wait upon the Prince during his visit to that place should wear the same dress as his attendants at the Elysce.” Well, after all, it was but natural that the “authorities” should feel a little “ anxious ” about the livery, seeing it was for their own wearing they wanted it. For we doubt not they were first to “ wait upon” the Prince. And indeed the mere fact of the delegation proved them thorough “ flunkeys.” The Correction of a Vulgar Idea. It is not that literary men quarrel more than any other class of men: | it is that they have a t they greater means of making their quarrels known to| iti Exnatum ror Fraxcz.—At the end of certain addresses presented | ; THE EMPIRE OF BEADLEDOM. ONG encouraged by events “over the water,” the elected Beadle of one of our arcades—we will not say which—has struck a blow whose aim is to plant the staff of beadledom for ever in bis own family, He has recently been making a progress from the north entrance to the south, and the following are some of the dudletins that have * reached us. “ Arcade, Number One.— The Beadle has just gone by the door of number one, amidst cries a million times repeated of Vive Bumnre 2. As he approached the shop the master presented the following dress: ‘We hail you, Sir, as the legiti- mate heir of the Bumaies, The inbabitants of this Arcade feel that their hap- | piness is in your hands, typified by the staff that you grasp between | them.’ “The Beadle was much moved by this touching proof of sympathy. His health is excellent.” “ The Toy Shop.—The reception of his High Mightiness at the Toy Shop was i Young girls belonging to the establishment, and dressed in O leans cloth, came out to offer him a bouquet. The Beadie seemed to be greatly affected by this mark of confidence. His health contigues exceilent.”’ “ The China Warehouse.—WUis Highness has just drawn up at the "cheap China Warehouse, where a sort of triumphal pile of breakfast cups, jars, vases, and other objects of industry, has been raised to do him honour. The Beadle inspected the pile with much interest, and astonished all present by his sage remarks on the mode in which the chinaware had been heaped up. His observations struck every one with the conviction of his being a first-rate engineer, avd he left amid a perfect storm of enthusiastic cries of Vive Bumsie 2. His health continues excel'ent.”” “ Jewellery Mart_—His High and Mightiness is now at the Jewellery Mart, where the same enthusiasm follows him. He has just recognised an old officer of the sheriff, who served under the Beadledom of his uncle. He has given the officer three pieces of copper amid frantic shouts, five million times repeated, of Vive Bumpte 2, His health is excellent.” “ Hailf-past 6.—The Beadle has just returned from a visit to the | desk and tea-caddy showroom of the |ncality. At every turn he was met by young girls, many of whom offered him bouquets. [le alter- wards visited the stock and collar establishment, where he passed under an inscription “‘To the Preserver of the Areade and of family Ties,” worked in silk cravats, stocks, and handkerchiefs. [is High- ness has just started for the toy bazaar, where he has promised to accept the ball—a large foot-ball—prepared in his honour.” It will be seen from the preceding reports that the Hereditary Beadiedom is only a question of time; and indeed it would have been declared long since, but for the jealousy of neighbouring powers. The Police Inspector on the beat adjoining, though he takes no step to prevent what is going on, is evidently no indifferent spectator of the events in progress. Should the independence of the Savoy be threatened, the chief of that limited Beadledom will, no doubt, have the sympathy and assistance that may be required for preserving his authority, and keeping up the proper balance of power. “The Boulevard du Crime.” Tae above is the name of that part of the Boulevards where most of the melodramatic theatres are situate, and was s0 given on account of the style of pi which are generally ‘ormed there; but we think that part of the Boulevards, where the massacres of last December took place, has greater reason to be called now “le Loulevard du Orime,” Justice ayp Cuanity,—Justice is rightly painted blind. When begging-letter writers appeal, let charity be deaf.

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2 : PE Se ee ee eee ee a a ee 168 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVART — = \ SIR (HERCULES) FITZROY KELLY AND THE FARMER. Berore that the Bucolic Gods Were lifted to their high abodes, While yet on non-official earth They walked as men of mortal birth, The farmer’s fate they would bewail— Thrust from Protection’s sacred pale— And prove how ’twas with Legislators Rested the price of corn and ’taturs : How, were but law the farmer’s friend, Low prices and short crops must end ; And how on Ministers alone The farmer’s fate was justly thrown. All this, at market-tables read, Filled with high hopes each farmer’s head ; On Denny sure they might depend, And Dizzy was the farmer’s friend. | Thus farming oracles declared, And this belief the farmer shared. | In vain the Free-trade powers that were | Tried to self-help such minds to stir— Preached to them faith in work and wil!, In science, energy, and skill— | Told them that he who seeks a friend, | Upon himself may best depend ; That if two quarters must be sold | At the same price one fetched of old, As good a trade might still be done By growing two in place of one. Such preaching passed, like idle wind, The prepossessed Bucolic mind, Which still believed the powers above Ruled farmers’ fates in hate or love. | Were they—the Free-trade powers defeated— | At length, down to the nether world In Downing Street’s Olympus seated, The suffering farmer would have there A power, accessible to prayer, To help him in his sore distresses, And extricate him from his messes :— The Free-trade Deities were hurled, And lo! Protection’s Gods, on high, Were throned in the official sky. True devotees, in wild delight, | The farmers hailed the new-risen light -— “ Behold, now reign the farmer’s friends, And all our cruel suffering ends! You told us oft, while here below, That ’twas from law our fate must flow ; That Ministerial aid alone, Could lift those up Free-trade had thrown : “So now you reign, our friends on high, Look down and help us from the sky. Our prices raise, our produce double, And help us out of all our trouble.” _ “ Unthinking men!” a god replied— *Twas Hercuies, whom earth did hide Under the form of Frrzroy Keii1)— “ How often do we need to tell ye That, if you wish your woes to end, Upon yourselves you must depend ? Have you not learnt in suffering’s school, The universal golden rule— | For him who fights—for him who delves— The Gods help them who help themselves ? To us ’tis useless to appeal : Put your own shoulders to the wheel !”’ Something for Louis to Put in his Pipe. At one of the places through which Louris Narouzow passed, he was greeted with a triumphal arch inscribed with the glorious and soul-stirring words “ CULTIVATION OF TOBACCO, 1852.” | This was, perhaps, the most truly significant of all the mottos that awaited him, for it is not improbable that all will yet end in smoke. Nests on the Rail. In Giessen, Hesse Darmstadt, two black redstarts have built their | nests and hatched their little ones “on the collision spring of a third- | class carriage.” We have not, as yet, heard of a si any English rail; but should any birds take a fancy to a like Set a ee ee enn te ee —_ SSS eee ee but t it & e

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ALL BUT HATCHED! Octoper 16, 1852.

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law ann +) lite RIO Ee, tens i een BU Na Th MCT enema al ,

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 171 PUNCH ON THE PLAYHOUSE. HBRE is a mournful feeling % creeps over Punch in the early days of October. Whence is it—what its cause? Is itthe yellowing, the falling Oetober leaves ? In every leaf, “ Bylph or faery hither tending, - To this lower world descending, Each invisible and mute In his wavering parachute.” (Somewhat like—and yet how different !—to visible Mapame Porrevuy of the Cremorne ascent and Fall ? Is it, then, the contemple- tion of the falling leaves— | the dropping hairs of the) garden trees—that imparts a pensiveness to the bosom | of Punch? We think not : we have pondered matter; it is not autumn leaves, but the autumnal play- bills. he sad tres ; and we | outline ot f responsibility knocking he Reuss of ~ the feeling | ness 0! ibi at ti of every manager. For as he on, is his trust—solemn and very solemn his duty. ‘or is he not made, or at least appointed by an anxious and most moral | and most fastidious Lonp CuamBER.aly, the teacher of the people in their play-hours ?—the to instruct by loftiest sporte—the Dominus to drop into the open mouth and open heart of ad . sweetening truth—the Teacher, to touch and refine by the “ sac source” of tears, the sympathies and the affections of a 7 ay a affectionate public ? Great is the responsibility—tremendous the charge—and every | London manager—(and though we have no certain truths to upon, no doubt every manager civic and rustic also)—shows, especially at the commencement of the winter season, +— sense of the mighty duty it is * his happy mission to fulfil, You may jally about the fall of the leaf—a London manager by the the ory rm loftiness of his expression. He is raised a little above the world that he may consider it from a vidoe cr + — season is marked in lines of thought visage; lines indicative of many coming ia Mi an eas all lines of truth. On certain occasions his with the thought of the Christmas pantomime Oe eaieiiion and deep, withal ; so deep it begins in the brain —on the very top of the pia mater where the soul is said to reside, and when microscopes are t to perfection where it will, no doubt, be shown at so much a head—it begins, we at in the brain, and on! ends in the very bottom of the pocket. Perhaps, in this multitadi London, there is not a more con oo. more self-denying, _—— bli and private-though man than a London manager about to open in the month ath of October. He has for many months to please, instruct, and, by the purest and most refined means, to elevate a British public, and—(we have now, by means of a hop-pole, jumped ‘some of his compan y coul Allmouth, Wrymouth, 4 KyowLes—d the + threshold of Drury Lem, the wes effigy of SHaksreaRE over a _ shea? as with sudden belly-ache x. the MUND wim Drury’s portico perspired a m ie per- spiration. But we give this merely as rumour. ” And Gzores Borton with Richeliex, To prove, that | read, one ad the actresses generously played from the printed be book | ! But enough of Bourton. Oh, Committee-men of Drury what are you doing’ Was there soenp er Sesame on the boards ( are spectators for all sights ), that you should allow Sm Epwarp Lytron BuLwer —(one made to draw, not to be drawn) — to be bitten, and gnawed, and worried by tormentors from Plymouth, Nomout and other towns and wapentakes? An ight-hearted Kwow.es!—why should salve to the wounds of the poet to Walter took a bold and original | ing him like a dromedary with two humps vent — t’s Hunchback—when a real ea potato? Why, too, expose oy ar are 10 ~r had or manufactured? We Drury Lane Van must be even —— ‘the mangled bodies of outraged be tortured ? ~~ that the actor who played view of Saitoh instead of one? dwarf was to be bad SHAKSPEARE pee a ee ask you why, because more bards whalebone we do with it? Leal rury Lane a b . Ne. for what you _ lp ORG mpart eternal flat- our cales 3 your theatric thunder will for ever muddle the beer. ™ mcr we make of Drury Lane a monster eook-shop ? ”’ ral| alt flow it fate will hang about it still: no man will ever be able to get t “ What then, oh Punch, shail we make of Drury Lane?” And Punch ‘answers—oh, Committee-men, make of Drury Lane Theatre a large Soap-boiler’s ; for only by so doing can you now by any chance come out of it with clean hands. once — a ~ 4 ~ in Trafalgar THE LIBERAL “ROPE OF SAND.” +? osepo Hume has adminis- | || tered a fatherly whipping to @ ~ nominal Liberals in the | House of Commons. If the eae deserved ; if the | = naughty sa Jossru, a touch of sorrow, de- | clares them to be: why then must the Ean. or Densy rub his hands composedily, and even ."y =r take heart, the ‘* of takin further salary ; a pocket being at a, synony- mous—in fact, one and the same “hollow muscle.” from October, lighting among roses in July ;)—and, of course, with| scarcely an ignominious exception, of course a has done it. Anyway, | he has done something. Hail then, hail October; when the winter playhouses open! When the doors of the national academies turn on their “ harmonious hinges ” to take in an English public. Hail, ye play-bills; ye chronicles of truth! Beautiful is the odour of your ink—whether of violet blue, or rosy fed. And for your black, how often is your black white, and your white so very black ! Biggest, however, of managers—for at this writing he manages the biggest house—is Mr. Groner Boutow, ensconced in the halls of Drury Lane, like the lady in the head of the lobster; and, it is said by the malevolent, knowing as much about Drury Lane as the aforesaid ro gentlewoman knows of her crustaceous dwelling-place. What of that? Piay-house knowledge comes—even, to simpletons—naturally as swim- eee: a If a man can sit cross-legged as an irreproachable e not also sit upon the Drama? Surely, if he can face a —y ia can face the public! But our Boutow has had large expe- rience ; as a wandering meteor he has often appeared. Now is he seen fitfully sparkling at the Olympic—now he flickers and goes out at the pa aang he is lighted and guttering at Marylebone—and the extinguisher a dropt, and after a while removed, he is, they | say, again ligh and burning in the big candle-shade of ; Drary ,’ The thoughtful and imaginative declare that as our Boiron crossed A rope of sand! And is it come to this? Can we believe in the truth of the image ’ We, with the words of pro- testing candidates—(the por- wiggle members that have since become full M.P. croakers)— we consider those ardent, vociferous, as only 80 ten of and — lemnpsbia like f ? Can nothing om on made of feat hope that all these Liberals can take at al sembiance of a et of such seemingly cohering, but really divided particle, Joszra Hume himself may make a tremendous weapon. As thus Sand, by intense heat, is vitrified; melted into one cohesive mass. Very well, then. What is easier than for Josera with the fire and flame of his eloquence to turn the rope of sand into a twisted pillar of crystal ? Ere now, eloquence has worked such wonders, melting and moulding divided bodies into one compact mass. (Great—as PsxtTon has shown, and will further show us—are the capabilities of glass. We have had our Crystal Palace: let us next winter have our Crystal Opposition. The Roman boasted that he found a city brick, and left it marble. | | Let it be the pride of Hume to find the Liberals, not bricks, but grains of sand ; and to leave them an entire ell - perfect chrysolite. a

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

A LAMENT ie THE SUBSTITUTION OF “THE SCENES IN THE CIRCLE” FOR iE “THE HISTORIC DRAMA” AT ASTLEY'’S a a : oagy ’ ! 4 Faom Batry’s boards the Tartar hordes ie | at Have vanish’d like an idle dream ; oa Our history’s page and Astley’s stage i Identical no longer seem. £ 5 A ce NaPoLgow has pass’d and gone ! The part has left Astieyan hands ; But Louis B. they run to see, Burlesquing it in foreign lands.

To Indian wars, in gilded cars, No more the British chieftains jolt ; No horsemen fly o’er platforms higb Secur’d by mortice, screw, and bolt.

ee ee The hat and snuff, the small-clothes buf, Once so familiar to the town, Are on the shelf; Barry himself | Must lay aside his stage renown. The comic man no longer can Defiance at the foeman fling ; But now he pokes his ancient jokes At Wrpprcoms, within the ring.

Its eager course Mazeppa’s horse No longer runs with wild career ; And Mister Hicxs no longer sticks To bare-back’d steed anid shout and cheer.

= oo hack his <a tab m the stage no longer es; At penee fount the wearied Coun’ His thirst no more in action slakes.

That aged man, the weeping Kian, Has ceas'd to hug his long lost son ; The Zyrané Greek his pound a week Has lost—his occupation gone ! .

BaitaNw14’s brow no longer now Yes, history now has made her bow, Is crown’d with fresh historic bays ; And leaves the scene of other days; In mimic field no Frenchmen yield The horses claim the wreath of fame, To six dramatic Scottish Greys. The laurels will adorn the bays.

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| relief. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARI VARI THE LONDON PARIA. Reapsgk, if ever you chance to go Through some narrow street of wide Soho, Where the pavement swarms with children small, And cen iidcaze, 4 is ver's pay ; the seeks the etamit while Giloomi Smoking his pipe with a lofty mien. is-a noisy, motley crowd, But it turps not bis thoughts from his broad white cloud. What to him is the throng below— The man’s deep curse, or the child’s shrill woe ? He watches his fumes as they rise and go, Melting away into hueless air, As sorrow melts into blank des pair. You'll fi perhaps, that his wandering mind ’Mid these oy fading wreaths can find Some vision of happy days, which yet He dweils upon with a fond regret. Not so.—Though scorn has left its trace Branded upon his proud pale face ; ’Tis but the stamp of a pain that’s past, For even rouse must die at last. What was this being cut off from the rest Of the world and its varied interest ? Some talk of a fortune spent in youth— But who can prove that they tell t the truth ? What is bis calling? No one knows. He seems to have neither friends nor foes ; And yet you’! hear the neighbours say, Though poor, he always “ pays his way.” Perchance he writes with small profit—no fame— A book that comes out with a noble name ; Or some kinsman rich. on his dying bed, _ him enough for cheese and bres Or perhaps—perhaps—but conjectures tire, When all know nothing, and few inquire— We can learn by his broad unwrinkled brow That the Paria, at least, is contented now And whatever storms have — the past, A sort of haven is’found at las To him who thinks life but a Seintlene joke, | . / marine Electr’ | of memory! What condeseension ! | | j } | | ’Tis enough to se drink, sleep, and smoke, "Till he ends hie course—alone—alone, By none ans none. Punning in the Provinces. At one of the concerts of the late Norwich Festival, there was present that objectionable creature, a Wag, who, during a pause in the ————. was heard to observe, that he considered the audience | | | fad a perfect right to complain of the hardness of the seats, scoing | | Hi Bill home| that the Committee had promised them Hern Formes (!) THINGS EXTREMELY DIFFICULT NOT TO LOSE ON A RAILWAY. A LIMB, or an eye, or a tooth, or your time, or trunk, or your luggage, or your wife, or your life! “ Planudite !"’ Praise the Wig that has never been found out; praise the Brandy | ES | that has never given you a headache ; the C hancery Suit that has not ruined you; the Sermon after you have slept well; the Doctor when he has cured you; the Cabman that has left you without im ition or | abuse; and the Rail way that has carried you safely to your destination without a brui se, or an accident. THE PRESIDENTS PROGRESS. Tue following is the stereotyped official bulletin is Progressing as favourably as can be expected.” “The President | A Scnoor or Destow.—A Jesuit’s College. A sew Name vor Bass’s Bitter Atzt.—Basso reliero, or Bass-| “ mndding. ” | Albion too long THE MARSEILLES PLOT. (From our own Gobemouche.) a accounts of the discovery of an Infernal Machine having ppeared in our a which ‘we hi we are happy to supply the following “authentic details, whi have had “communicated” per Horse. | Klectr'c Telegraph “ Marseilles, come’ One “Seoond to 6, v.a.—Our adorable Prince | has this moment arrived. “6 o'clock. —His Highness i is alighting. Marseilles salutes him with | her million lungs, Vive /' Bmpereur / “5 Minutes Past,—Tibw chout’ ie. conned the an earthquake " the deaf—are split. “+ Past,—Curiosity is on tip-tee. The Emperor has d an -- ne E | **35 Seconds Later —It is the of his infancy. What | populace is charmed with it. “10 o’ Clock.—The Prince is opening the Ball. His chosen partner is the venerable Inundress, Wptine carveunds him. All és serene. | * Mi .—Horror has seizedus! An Infernal Machine bas been discovered by the police. ithe bait of the city stands on end, “ Half-past,—At present all is locked in secrecy. aoe tee lena Pie genus kay. Listen, My’ ink runs cold | as I narrate the d a. our beloved Prince wisicoming from the vwhen a sudden cae attic adjacent. ee “wel at steep fi of stairs, the police discovered an Lnfernal | the most Hical description. It consisted, in effect, of a whole | | Volume of Punch. . “ France pants for sengeance | Let these authors tremble. Perfidious has shie —. r= long these execrables——" Here, ro modesty, we break off. ‘old woman in the crowd,, a: * * * | iI! HHH, pull): a auernrnsneentv saa 3 wig Leoenpemaim A La Faaxcsise. sacri Wur would Irishmen have made first-rate auctioneers ? Because they are ready to “knock down” anything at their priest’s

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i a a ia ae i vine ee a oie melas — a 174 PUNCH. OR THE LONDO Gentleman ( fond of dogs). “Sacaciovs! On, very! Way, HE NEVER SEES 4N OLD GENTLEMAN, BUT BR PULLS OFF HIS HAT AND RUNS AWAY WiTH IT. He’Li retcH a Duck ovr 4 PonD ; AND HE’S SUCH A NOTION OF TAKING CARE OF HIMSELF THAT HE COSTS ME | PULL A GUINEA A-WEEK FOR THE Leos or Mutton we sTEALs.” “MISUSING THE QUEEN’S PRESS—SHOCKINGLY.” REquentty Mr. Punch has had oc- canien, in the went aed his duty as literary ial constable, to appre- hend he racy against his revered Sovereign, her crown, dignity, and English. But amore fi t union oe d grammar 7 a oyalty - just caught his vigilant eye, has seldom disgraced the nation over which he watches. The following choice s emanate directly from the Horse Guards, are signed by Lorp Firzeoy Somerset, and, for the greater demoralisation of our gallant army, are ordered “to be read out at three parades.” The case is that of one GisBINGs, a gunner and driver in the Artillery—(not, as times go, a badly educated regiment, and, therefore, the more likely to be shocked at Lorp Firzroy’s bad he the misbehaving Gresines having been duly tried by Court- ial, and “ The Court having maturely considered the evidence, &c., is of opinion the prisoner | is guilty, which being in breach of the Mutiny Act, do sentence him to be transported as a felon for the term of seven years.” The Court bas, evidently, not made up its mind whether it is plural or singular. Mr. Punck would say, decidedly singular. As for that unhappy “ which,” no wonder it is “in breach,” or anywhere else, to get out of the way of . It is the more surprising, as the SOMERSETS are not su to be justly chargeable with not knowing how to place their ives. If anything set forth in the above passage is in breach of the Mutiny Act, it is clearly the conduct of the Court. But would that this were all! Alas! take the very next paragraph :— “IT have direetions to acquaint your lordship that Iizn Masrsry was pleased to approve the finding and sentence of the Court, &c. “I have the honour to be, &c. i “Frrzror Somerset.” | Lory Frrzror Sommnset has, hitherto, been held a nobleman of untarnished honour, and Mr. Punch regrets to affix the first blot upon N CHARIVARL DRINK—THEN CRITICISE. | Tae Gaeatest Possrste Haprmvess ror THE Greatest Possrstze Numszr.—PUNCH ! his seutcheon. But it is Mr. Punch’s painful duty to charge Loxp Fitzroy with having deliberately stated that which must be untrue. The Quezn approve such a “sentence” as that! Hen Masesty sanction three gross bl three distinct high treasons against her own English. No, Logp Frrzroy. Quezy Victoria may have eet that “finding,” but that “sentence” Her ESTY certainly never approved, and your most graceful atonement for your offence will be, to order that these observations be “read out ” at t mess dinners of the valiant and intelligent fellows whom your | has been mystifying, and whom you obviously suppose to be the and not the “ red Artillery.” : CHANCERY ON THE GO. Formerty the Courts of Law used to follow the Sovereign ; and justice oy up its booth wherever royalty bh staying. Something of a similar kind seems “ looming in the or at all events we have had an instance of justice inni again a wandering life, for one of the Vice-Chanceilors was “on Tuesday the 12th, at the Pavilion Hotel, Folkstone, motions.” This seems to be the reverse of taking justice every man’s door ; and it is calling every man from his own sea-side who happens to have a motion for hearing in the Court Mapai gee rym oe oma fee ao course obey his tic the rail, with his hotel and other c' justice may be on to the Channel itself, where the hearing of motions may be interrupted by the feeling of a motion peculiar to the element, whose uncertainty would make it a most appropriate spot for a pro- ceeding in Chancery. beg: F Bbosecese 2, eee tebe “ Risie)um Teneatis.” Some jobbers on the Stock Exchange have been offering sums of money for the bull that went up with Mapame Porrevr, for they foolishly imagine if they could only “ bull the market” with it, that certain shares, which at ¢ cannot be made to “go up” by any means of inflation, would be sure to “ rise.” A Persowat Canvass.—Taking your own Portrait. Printed William Bradpvery, of Ne.13,Upper Webdcra tm the Pariah of St. Pancras, and Prederick Mullett Evans, of No.7, Charen Row, Stoke Newington, both ae Bh Printers, at thelr Ottice 1» Lombard Street, in the Precinet of Whitetriars, in the Otty of Leudos, and Published by them at No. &, Fleet Street ,im the Parish of St. Bride's in the City of sp.t,Ocropen isth, ast. i

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. 175 . — | be not have bees about him—a very swarm of golden bees—all sugges- NAVAL INTELLIGENCE. tive to the Ingenta mad of induskry, and sowsedfal labour, and crest , P content? And therefore, and from the very bottom of his heart—(if it -a~tn.— “ T’other day — just) has a bottom; though, from the profundity of the sympathies attributed u¢ ~ before pipe for dinner—/| to the man by a truth-loving Church, we doubt if the bottom has ever Bri F.ir says to me,| yet been fathomed)—therefore does Lours Napoueon hunger for peace. JACK,” rays he, ‘do you) “ Crook me that Lmperial sword into a sickle; melt me those firelocks know who the little cherub into ploughshares ; convert me those helmets of the Imperial Guard yo is that sits up aloft?’ into bee-hives.” These must be the thoughts, the aspirations of the ~ ‘No,’ says [. Well, with | man that, like a newly-bruised eye, is fast becoming very purple. that, Sir, he puts intomy “But how”’—certain inquisitive people may arin about the hand a newspaper called | steam-navy ?”— the Chester Chronicle, amd) “To be sure. There is the Napoleon, capable! of transporting says ‘ Read this,’ pointing | 5000 troops.”— _* Local and Distriet.’| “ Yes; and the Awusterlitz, first-rate man-of-war steamer, with broad- Well, | could not believe | side weight of metal that can splinter up Gibralter? What are these | my own eyes. I| placed | and others on the stocks for? All for peace?” the newspaper ataproper| “For peace,” replies the Emprexor. “ Built, purely, for voyages of distance and got it into discovery. To discover the Gardens of the Hesperides (aside, or the the fieid of my DoLLowp, | Gardens of Folkestone)—to trace the source of the Pactolus (aside, or and | read again :— |the source of the Thames). Yes: | cry peaco—peace ‘s my mission. _“*The youthful Lorp And so believing, how [ yearn to plant the olive in the Tower of London, Gitpert Gxosvenor, | or the forecourt of Buckingham Palace,” whose appomtment as) flag-lieutenant to Rear-| ADMIRAL Purvis on the} Cork station has been | cancelled, will shortly be | appointed to another! frigate. His Lordship is| brother to the Ducuzss | or NogTHUMBERLAND, | First Lord of the Ad- miralty.’ “ We need scarcely tell you that we saluted Her Grace—the cherub— the Lady Admiral, with a ‘ broadside’; and knowing that you, Mr. | Punch, take a lively interest in the welfare of Poor Jack, we rammed the newspaper into the mouth of our best gun, and placed her muzzie right to 85, Fleet Street, where, we trust, the newspaper arrived in time for the insertion of the above important information in your next number. “T have the honour to be, Mr. Punch, “ Your obedient servant, On Board the Northumbria, Oct. 18, 1852. * Jack Bumpo.” APOLOGY. Puc presents his compliments to the late Lornp Fitzroy Somerset, whom he addressed last week on some bad language used by his lordship to the Artillery. Punch did not intend that so severe a punishment as bas followed his criticism should have fallen upon that unfortunate nobleman. Punch always endeavours to temper the blade of justice in the water of mercy. Could he have foreseen that when his paragraph met the eye of the Fountarmy or Honour, the ILiustaiovs Quarter in question would have felt so incensed with Lorp F. 8., as to order that his name should never be pronounced at Court again, Punch would have paused over his castigatory sentences. The Gazette, introducing Lorp RaGtaw to a generous British public, so instantly followed Punch’s remarks as almost to astonish that gentleman. However, what is done cannot be undone, and Mr. Punch can only express his regret that, in complaining of his fellow-servant’s conduct to their RovaL Mistress, he should have compelled that servant to go to “‘ another place.” i» i MY VOICE IS FOR “PEACE!” | Cocx-a-DOODLE-Doo ! “Tn the name of the French nation—I mean the Empire—I ask and pray for . We want peace! What are armies? Necessary SVEN SUSE. evils. What is glory? Golden smoke.” Something after this fashion| 1. The Envious Man—who sends away his mutton, because the person speaks Louis Napo.eow at Bordeaux. _ | next to him is eating venison. Fas | An owl in a holly-bush is a familiar object of the gravely ridiculous:| 2. The Jealous Man—who spreads his bed with stinging-nettles, and | but the owl is beaten. Think of an eagle in an olive-tree! The soaring, | then sleeps in it. ~~) carnivorous bird, that, instinct with glory, smells the battle from afar, 3. The Proud Man—who gets wet through, sooner than ride in the | and cleaves the air, to come pounce down upon the dying. Beak and carriare of an inferior. . ‘ claws red and wet with bi ; and gorging, gorging its belly-full ! | 4. The Litigious Man—who goes to law, in the hopes of ruining his _ But this is all over. The eagle gives up a flesh diet; and, forsaking opponent, and gets ruined himself. its rocky high place, will become even as domestic poultry. The eagle) 5 The Hxtravagant Man—who buys a herring, and takes a cab to will perch, and no doubt do its best to coo in an olive-tree,—living | carry it home. : upon olives as a poll-parrot eats shelled almonds. 6. The Angry Man—who \earns the ophicieid, because he is annoyed After all, it is natural that the man tired of gunpowder—especially | by the playing of his neighbour's piano. . . of the civic sort that made the glory of the 20d December—as he nears) 7. Te Ostentatious Man—who Uluminates the outside of his house the throne should desire to sit still awhile and rest himself. And will, most brilliantly, and sits inside in the dark. } VOL, XXITI T

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| later, at least, than the good old times, whose goodne | and illustrated by Fistpwwe and Hecaata? 176 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. LINES ON THE DEMISE OF DOE. (Affectionately addressed to his friend Bareriess, by @ sympathising Junior of some 45 years standing.) Ain.—* Cheer up, my oon JEANETTE.” Cuzzn up! cheer up! my Barercess, yet: though doomed is Kicuarp Rez; For all the chaages we may see ther» ’Ii still be law enow ; What if they kill bots Rog and Dor ?—you/re eurely not so blind, To think there ’ll be #o plaintiffs or defendants left behind ! There’s not a lawyer in the land so exquisitely green, As to fancy law will cease because poor Rog has left the scene ; They will make what they call “ Reforms”—the lot hath chanced on | Dor— But is it then a sequi‘ur that Baizriess down must go? Why, ever since the world began, the surest road to fame |" Has been through Fields that to the Lan of Lincoln owe their name ; And well I know the brightest eyes.have ever brighter shone, When looking at some lawyer bold, returned from Action won ! And think’st there ’il bean end to “deeds” that lawyers love so well ? And think’st there ‘ll be no more “ reports” our libraries to swell ? The lawyer's is a lasting trade—so, Batercess, wail no more : While only men are men, be sure, there’|l be no ead of Law! OLD BEDLAM BACK AGAIN! From this stage of advancementim psychology and humanity, we look back almost incredulous at theamiseries, the tortures, the crue!ties, the atrocious mal-treatment, onee, name of ¢reatment, inflicted on the insane. Accompanied with some doubt that such horrors ever existed, is our retrospect of the fetters, manacles, stripes, bruises, wounds, sores, nudity im straw, filth, aed vermin, then ordinarily associated with the idew of madmess—then the regular circumstances of a residence in However, there is mo doubt that such thi were—once upon a time. Of course, a wery i in the dark ages, Lavurig, even, excerdeth not the stubbornness of facts. If it doth, long are the ears of Laugiz, and he goeth on all-fours; let him graze grass, and drink water, and munch the thistles of the plain. “ PROTECTION” IN FRANCE. We read in the Times the other day, that among the inseriptions to Lovis Naro.zon during his late “ Progress,” there was one at Lgons— “70 THE PROTECTOR OF AGRICULTURE.” And, as a proof of his Protectorship, we find it stated im thesmame day’s paper that— “The President h ational Agricultural College Versat! | That pranel of iatasey yy a pi to iteelf, lcteee aaipampabich may be said to be so.” | A pleasant instance of his “ Protection” this! The,“ protection” truly of the U pas tree—blighting where it overshadows. } RAILWAY SLIPS. ! (Tue papers contain another account of » great “ Railway a meaning, a slipof land. But there ere other slips upon a , whieh the papers do not take such frequent moties of—slips of time and and proper attention—slips that ap appestedly followed by the loss, not only of property, but of ‘This excuse, however, must be made—that, if notice were taken of all thes — a newspaper would be made up of nothing but ips. | time P the days of racks, thumb-screws, red-hot pincers, whipping, branding, ear-cropping, half-hanging, embowelling, sud burning alive? Not ss is aS & Why no; not quite so mear to primitive antiquity. A little farther from the mythological era: somewhat less deep in the gloom of ages. Not in the epoch of the late Sse ‘Dmomas Boosy, but in that of the} present Sin Peter Lavaie; imehort, only the other day. Read the evidence tha has teem laid before the Commissioners of = Kt Tuunacy relative to the management of the patients in Bethlehem | Hospital. In particular, theenses of Miss Hannan Hyson, of | Miss WuHITTINesaM, you can. For that may | not be possible if your sensibilities are strong and your stomach is | weak ; and henee it may bevunderstood why the details alluded to are not quoted in a periodical which:is*taken in at every coffee-house, and | lies on all tables at-every meal. | Read also the statements, aad apologetic—of the | Treasurer, the Maton saad the, Menbieer icine Officer, together with Mar. P. N. Lavase’sdefenceof the Governors ; fromall which testimony | you will discern that the faets-of these flithy and frightful disclosures resulted, in the from some of the ies responsible for the main, parties - conduct of the Heapital being teo lazy, others too fine, others too much | overworked, properly to torit : patients were abandoned to Betsy — who consumed their pro- | visions, drank their “stimulants,” probably withheld ‘their medicine, starved them, beat them, kept them in filth, straw, and, it would seem, in chains. To account for these enormities may be mentioned one more circumstance—thus stated by the Observer :— * “It will be remarked that at the head of this establishment of officials is Srr Peter Lavatz. Some of our readers may probably bring to their recollection the many and the heated discussions whieh toek place at the meetings of the magistrates fer the county of Middlesex upon the motions that were brought forward by Ma. SeacsanrT Apams and others for the intreduction of the ‘ Humane or nou-restraint system’ of tre«ting the lnaatie paupers in the Hanwell Asylum. Who was the most violent opponent, upon those occasions, to the motions? A reference to the reports of the various meetings will prove that that opponent was Sra Peren Laveic. Moreover, it will be found that the worthy alderman, in most of his speeches in oppositi Rot merely condemned the attempt to recognise and introduce the ‘ non-restraint system proposed by Da. Conwoucy to be put into permanent practice at Hanwell, bat he set up the course of treatment in use in Bethlehem Hospital, of which establishment he was himself the leading Read, and the good resulting from the plan adopred im St. George's Fields, as the strongest possible ground for not entertaining the proposition.” Six Perer has now pretty good proof that the inhuman and restraint system—or what amounts to the same thing, the negligent system, of treating the insane dors not answer. Let him—who puts down every- body and everything that exalts itself against his majesty, from suicide An Arch Amendment. Amonest the many triumphal arches erected in the Monifewr, in honour of the President’s Progress, there was one with the following inseription, “A Levis Naroukow, St. Macatne.” Bhat inscription is capable of a very great improvement, whch would admirably illus- |trate the present position of Freseh affairs, besides bringing promi nently forward the name of the prime mover of the i i | triumphs. The inseription, strietly speaking, should have stood thus:— “ 4 Louts Narottox, Ropsrr Macarne.” to Josera Apr—putdownthat. Surely the stubbornness of Sia Peter |

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PUNCH, OR THE LO

LETTERS FROM THE DEAD TO THE LIVING. | on Prince,—I have) heard some unfor- | tunates say, Who were killed by} your troops in the | Rue de la Paix, That some mortals are | foolish enough to compare Your actions and for- tune with mine;| but my care =i For my character bids | me here les them all Avcustus C#sar fo Lovis Napoizon.

agree. I grant some resem- | blance at first may appear, For we both have had Uneles, and they are here ; Lach was great in his day, and / shall not | disclaim My share of our debt to their fortune and fame | | | Like yours, too, my power at first be- came great By the feuds and the faetions which harassed: the state ; For my country, like Framee, in her thirst for — From the biunders of friemd« and the bluster of » Seeing evils all rou: d, thought tre smailest- of. any Was to help the one tyrant to keep down the many. Your eagles, | net, are modelled on mine; And my cohorts, no less than your troops of the lime, When employed om the dirtiest jobs of their trade, / Merely cared not for what, bat how much, they were paid. Like you, then, I wadedithrough blood to a crown; Like you, bound the last:friendseof Liberty down ; There the parallel ends: would you have it endure ? Know—the chains that will stretch most will. prove most secure | Althoug> cruel at first, I grew clement in turn, And knew how to forgive; you’ve that lesson to learn : I furnished a theme for CoxneILce’s glowing page, You—on féte days exhibit ConweILLe on the stage ; Content with controlling the actions of each In my empire, | left them the freedom of sveech ; They might murmur who pleased, if they yielded to me ; You expect all your slaves to affirm they are free : lf a satire were good, why! I langhed with the rest, And punished ro libel ; you chafe at each jest. Believe me, a ruler gives point to a joke, When he shows it possesses the power to provoke : I did — to corrupt those | sought to enslave, But was decent in private, in public was grave; For my fmend every statesman | laboured to gain ; You have banished ail those who could teach you to reign, And, when asked with what sages or wits you are seen, | For Acaarra name Foun, for Mecawas, Pensions ; genius a home to.emblazon my fane ; ve foreed it to travel and publish your shame : Like you, I was flattered, you ’ll say; but, vain Fool, I was flattered by Hosace; yow’re spurned by Kenowt:* VinerL deemed his best strains to my clemency due, But Vésow himself cannot always praise you. The world from the grave Suztomius has heard, I was firm in my friendsbips, and true te my word ; But CassaGnac even, whatever might be His reward, could not pay that last tribute te thee : Thus, unguarded I lived, in the streets or at home, And one cohort sufficed to keep order in Rome.j Yes, Prince! you may hasten the Empire to clam (L had ruled twenty years ere | heard of the name), | _ * Ruwour, the poor poet of Niemes, whe has vefused t) secept the Cross of the } legend kietine ae heehee

sightly |intelligenes to the NDON CHARIVARL But think not—although to your pride and your power No check shall arrive till your life’s latest hour ; Though the people, still servile, the troops, always true, Shall join in no plots, save those sanctioned by you,— new virtues the press to your race shall ascribe, And, now cowed by a menace, now fed by a bribe, All i's former wit merged in a bl’ sphemous whine, Shall affirm that its master is all but Divine ;— Yet think not, buoyed up by a dream of success, When their lips praise you most, their hearts hate you the less Your people may cringe ; ours, thank Heaven! could trust us ; Your’s can only fear you ; ours respected AvuGustvs.,

SAFE FIGHTING. _ Tuts is tobe done—after an Irish fashion. It appears a contradic- tion, but wevoum haweamost tremendous war between the magnanimous Cett-amd: the: contemptible Saxon, and no bloodshed, no bones broken. by the dove of peace—whispered ever ap Mawomet’s pigeon cooed celestial | r The editor of the Galway Ezecrator asserts and proclaims :— “ That the Irish are perfectly armed ; let it be known that while we have steam-engines we can bit defiance to brntai Britons. A man can throw stones, a steam-engine will like- wise throw because 4 steam-engine will do anything « man can do! The s'eam- engine will wield a sling, nay fifty stings whese cords are cables ! and whose missiles rocks// It will sweep into the air masses of granite, which whirling on high large cabin, and soaring into the sky!!! will descead with a terrible rush upon squadrons of horse and regiments of infantry, will make mash of men and horses, or, breaking their ranks, will make them fly in every direction like d !! ot holders in railways | should know, de., dec., thatatemecracy can arm ttself with steam-engines.’ But stop—a word ear, friend Heeerator. Tf it must come to this, if the Celt will steam-engine slings, why not the Saxon? We know, in compasigonmwith Celtic intelligence, we are a benighted, stopid people: weare misty-brained and moony- ; nevertheless, we are not quite such fools as to march to be ea “mash” of. We would not, dull as werare, attempt to recrait to meet such a power. “ Wanted, five hundved fiae young men for the Hare-brained Cavalry, iseiles likerrecis, to be mashed men and horses, and, /ina//y, <divestion like madmen.” The Saxon humbly owns quite such a fool as that. r ator, we shall fight your steam-engines with our to ironstone slung against stone. And how’ beautiful, when:the stones,.big as cabins (lrish cabins, those homes of pence and-self-respect!!)—hew beautiful when the stones clash in the air, and break-into powder ; the fight being left entirely between the contending engines, the opposing missiles. This is a very pacific improvement upon wat; mereever, it is quite Irish. A terrific hubbub, "The Sack ‘adh 1; but th lb xon is i al; but the Celt will have an iron army. When, may we ask, A - hy Piston, Cotowe. Hicu-Pressune, ALVE, begazetted ? What if we propose as the day, the Fifth ovember ? are

THE MORISONIAN SYSTEM OF PUTTING OUT A FIRE. Mouwr Aitwa has been on fire for nearly two months. It is blazing away even now. It is rather too far to send Mr. Baarpwoop with @ t of engines, for the purpose of extinguishing this “Tremendous Fire,” but we pr that Mr. Putiires be despatched instanter with a y of his “ Fire Aumihilators” to try what he can do with them. Let him throw into the mouth of the crater, by way of a first twe dozen of his fiery boluses, If they do not make the patient a little more easy, let the second dose be increased to four dosen; and, if these do not give Hua its quietus, let the third dose be augmented to eight dozen, whieh, if there is any faith im the iil-taking, ought to prove an extinguisher. This only be a far test of Ma. Puwmuirs’s *“ Fire Annihilator ;” for it stands to reason that, if it succeeds in putting out the pipe of a voleano that has been smoking, with an endless y of “fire,” for upwards of two months, it must be equally successful in blowing out any little farthing rusblight of a conflagration that we may have in England. We should like to be present to see Ma. Puiittrs standing over the crater, with a Fire- Annihilator, like a pill, between his thumb and his fore-finger, and to — him | say to Aitna, “Open your mouth and see what I will send you, -= — = Near the Truth. Way is the ruffian Cawwon, who nearly murdered the policeman, like a certain popular swindle ?— he is a Monster Sweep. A Pewwy-s-tiee’s Provers.—* There is many a slip between the pen and the tip.

asa |

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alienate 3 | } 178 PU NC A, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI = H] = \ ‘ St 4. = . ~ a tig f il i = ith ; tt _ ~ HH] Mn ET TTT Ht {} Ht} | HH] | | | ny ‘if - 5 —S } ' " YZ ws ~ = Mi iV S/o) A Ty end itt rr nd 7 | Nk f S j ‘(, eS p ih: i a iit [ t ; { a = ~ a | 1\\ | at i} ey Wi = a | | } - { ( r = 9 “# \¢@ | the - 1 / | . Kt — i }) \ a i | toe 4 i} ‘ \3 Ht | | | | vt '| q HM | Vi as = || 6) ——, | | = —JI—— f a a 4 9 ; \ —=F " FS 2 ~ —_— — = ~ ——— —— : en - =~ Little Gent. (with undue familiarity), “1 say, MY oLD Cockywax,—] s’POsk THB Fish AINT VERY LARGE OFF RaMsGIT—ARE THEY? ” Fisherman, “ Weii! I sHouLpN’T SAY AS THEY WAS WERRY SMALL—WHEN WE'RE OBLIGED TO USE SICH FLOATS aS THEM TO OUR Fisuin’ Tackte! my rounc Cockywax?” WESTMINSTER THEATRE. A wew piece, adapted from Uncle Tom's Calin, was read at the Westminster Theatre, preparatory to the opening of that’ estab- lishment. The piece seems likely to be successful, owing, probably, as much to the consummate versatility and talent of ‘the ac‘ors engaged, as to any intrinsic merit of the work itself. We have extracted the following Scene. We may mention that emblematical ribbong, bills, — and so forth, are a peculiar sort of African charm, whicu niggers always wear about their person, DRAMATIS PERSONS. Topsy (a Nigger, taken into the household of Mr. But, ) and whose former master was a Buckinghamshire farmer) } Miss Feery (housekeeper to Ma. BuLL) Joun ) rm ict { Lono J. Russe... Sen well tried Servants of Mr. Buuu's) . : ) Me. Hume. Other Niggers, Lonv Deasy, Lonp MaLmessuay, Ma. WaLroue, Sim Frrznoy Keuiy, &c. &c. Ma. Bex. Disraeci. The Scene is laid in Miss Fex.y’s sitting-room, which commands a view of St. James's Park, Miss Fey makes Topsy s/and opposite her. Miss F. Now, Torsy, who were your political parents ? Topsy. Dun’ no, Missis—never had none. . Mise Vicrorta Reema. | I ’spect I growed. [ Grinning. | ribbon, Gent, is shut up) hl Miss F. Never had any—what do you mean? Of what party were you born ? Topsy. Never was born. [With a grin. Miss F. How hace have you served your former master ? Topsy. Dunt ’zactly know, Missis, Miss F. Don’t know, Topsy ! One year or s_veral ? Topsy. Several, off and on, ’ should think. Muss F. Now, tell me who made you politically ? Topsy. Nobody as I knows on. n't think nobody never made me. (Looking amazed and twinkling his eyes. Miss F. What did you do for your former master ? Topsy Laws, nothin’, Missis—jawed a bit nows and thens. ' Miss F, What can you do, Topsy ? Topsy. Anythin’. Chiefly I is ra at climbin’ up a poll. Miss F. Now, Topsy, what are your politics ? Topsy. Laws, Missis, ’most any think. Muss F. Why, Torsy, what ’s this ? (Pulling at a ribbon which was hanging out of Torsy’s pocket, Topsy. Laws, why that ar’s the ribbon I had at late Mas’r’s, Miss F. But here is another, besides. Tope Laws, why that’s Jonn’s ribbon; how could it ’a got in my pocket. Miss F. Torsy, you naughty thing, don’t tell me a lie; you stole that (Grinning.

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THE POLITICAL TOPSY. “I ’SPECTS NOBODY CAN’T DO NOTHIN’ WITH ME? ”—Vide “Uncle Tom's Cabin.” Octosper 23, 1852.

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sre Parti a . pistes Seshing ne a 6 4 2 — " rms RMON SRI a au niiicin areropgacsnsy re Sohaspliere EY A as 5 A ay 4 i (COED AAO NPL OME NERO A PB ES TIT ni re er ana Sr) aka i ye OR Teas ; pene tes noite os . mre aaienuntehiads : : , oer

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PUNCH OR THE LONDON CHARA ” Fepep. Missis, I declare ‘for’ t I didn’t. Never seed it till this | blessed minnit. (Miss Ferny becomes so indignant that she shakes Torsy, which causes some papers to fall. Miss F_ There you! will you tell me you didn’t steal the ribbon ? Topsy. Laws, now, if that isn’t Jony’s M’litia Bill (ooking rather guilty. 1 mind Jonw lost it one night, and | jest picked it up. Miss FP. You’ ve tried to change te appearance, you naughty thing. | Now, Torsy, confess what else you ’ve stolen. Topsy. Weil, I took Jonw’s Reform Bill, and bout half his Parliamentary "Reform Bill, what he had round his neck when be lost his M’litia Bill, and bits of Joe’s measure, what he’s al’ays losin’. Miss F. Bless me, what a thief! (hopelessiy ) Is there anything you have not stolen, Topsy? Topsy. Laws! Missis. There’s'the Income Tax Repeal Bill. Miss F. Now ran, Topsy, you naughty thing, and get me the Reform Bills you stole from Jous and Joz, and what you have of your own. Mr. Bout wants them directly. Topsy. Laws, Missis, I can’t. Muss F. What a story, Topsy! charge you. Topsy. 1 can’t, Missis (vith loud protestations, and tears and groans). tha x me nt they is.’ F. You naughty creature! Why did you tell me you'd got them ? [Quite bewildered at this ¢ el ge. . Pas. ’Cause [’s wicked, l is; I’s mighty wicked anyhow. tc can’t elp it (At this moment Joun and Jon enter together : Joan wearing his bill still round his neck, and Jon with bits of his measure stuck all over his person as us Miss F. Why, Jom and Jox, how did you get those again ? ( Pointing to the bill and the measure. J. and J. (together). Dese ar! bad dese ar all de time. Can’t pass | dem nohows. Miss F. What in the world did you tell me you took those things for ? | Topsy (rubbing eyes and whining). Why, Missis said | must ’fess| or _ would turn me away, and I couldn't think of nothin’ else | to , Miss F. But of course I didn’t want you to confess things you didn’t | do. ‘Ihat’s telling a lie just as much as the other. Topsy. Laws, now, is it? [ With innocent wonder. Get them this minute, or I’! dis- J. and J. (Looking indignantly at Topsy). Da’r a’nt no such thing as truth in that limb. Another scene deserves mention. Torsy is amongst his fellow- | niggers, perched on a high stool in Mn. Buus’s house in Downing | Street. Jonw and Jog have both been dismissed in disgrace, owing to | Topsy’s wicked manceuvring. Topsy log. Law! you _sigpers does you know you’s all sinners? Well, you is, all on you; Miss Peeiy says 80; but, lor, ye an’t any on | yeup to me. I’s so ‘awful wicked, there can’t nobody do nothin’ | with me. I used to keep old Mas’r a swearing at me half de time. | | *spects I’s the cabelas erittur in the world. (Here Topsy cuts a somersault and comes up brisk and shining on to a higher stool neat him, displacing, with much violence, a sus- picious brother nigger, who is admrably acted by Loxp Dery. a ALLEGED HEARTLESS ROBBERY OF A BRITISH AUTHOR, We take from the Sunday Times the subjoined paragraph—which, parkas, our contemporary took from the Hue and Ory. “An American author has, we understand, written an ‘ Alpine Entertainment, after the manner of ALBERT SmiTu's, for a popular comedian of the United States, who intends producing it in New York in the coming winter. Of course the clever gentle- men who have seized upon Mr. —~_ 8 ideas will etn to »paee them off as original ‘notions’ upon their countrymen. friends not to be in a hurry, but to wait until the oan kipine queer visits — with bis genuine entertainment.” Ma. ALpert Suirn’s “ Ascent of Mont Blanc” is a mental article, a piece of ideal goods—the materials thereof - ~- by hardy enter- prise—woven out of the fibres of the What a pity that it cannot be squared = dee and marked —_—s 8. im the corner! Then the act of its appro 8 consent were an error | that might be r “ American author and popular comedian” —if they have really stolen | Mn. Surrx’s notion—are only indictable at the tribunal of opinion. | That court of pain, however, will convict them of no petty larceny, | but rather of pl —, amounting to virtual felony; and @utice| i$ Hereby Giben, to all whom it may concern, that the receivers of Alpine Entertainments are as bad as the a } Tae Puttosopny or Diwwers.—There would be very few dinner- parties, if the rule were once made only to invite those to dinner ~ really were in want of one! ion without its dot the Middlesex, Sees ‘at hme as the case is, the | | ~ A GENUINE TITLE FOR ORDERS. nom the 7imes of October 7th, we take am advertisement which may puzzle some future Mose, or other writer of ecclesiastical his- tory — i = for ORDERS, at the ensuing Christmas Ordination... A young gettioman of family, evangelically dis- , and to whom salary is no object, a CURE in « fashionable West End Scratching his head, the future Church his- torian py say to himeelf : a young ouatle. man evangelically digpored ?’ can that have pat at mel ? A young disposed family ? that view, “ vin ef le West-end rd « FF a am ot “fami _? or aT such e 2 high reepeatah ow Church, respectahility. Doubtless, At lemat. Tea What is the ‘Cure of ? Hardly a cure for exclusive oe then, ‘ tilefor Orde oe this young gentleman might have ride and vanity. And what manner | West-end t-end congregation ?’ What. | and * shoulder-kuot—wearing shoul — proper ‘cloth’ for | plus ” Thus will the Mosuer™ of the tim talk to himself,.or to the contemporary New Zealander, who kfriars Brid idge con- ‘template the ruins of St, Paul’s Church—and wonder how &t. Paul's Chureh came to be ruined. == eee GREEK AGATNST GREEK. Tue Police Reports have contained an account of the ferocious assault on a patient and brave policeman, committed by a biped brute named Cawnon. However, among the Police this Cawwow oe have met with his mateh. Under the head of Bridgnorth, the Chronicle records the case ensuing :— “Tuomas Baowy, a weak and sickly4ooking young man, who had been in prison since the previous Saturday, was cha with being drunk, In this case some sensation was created in court by the of the way in whieh the policeman, Dover, acted in conveying the defendant to . The defendant said that Dover struck and knocked him down several times, and also bumped bis head upon the pavement. Dovey did not deny having used some violence, of which the defendant's face bore ample testimony. The Mayon told Dovey that he thonght he had no right to nse euch vielence towards any man. To whieh the officer replied that he was justified in what he had done, and that to the directions issued to the he would have been justified in knocking out his ithe defendant's) brains ae me Ma. Wy_Lpe Brows, one of the magistrates, own diseretion, and must be protected, The Mayon begged'to express a different = | | said the police were allowed to use their | opinion, and again told Dovey that it was certainly not right to use such an amount of | toree towards #0 weakly man as the defendant. The policeman replied that he had not exceeded his duty, “and,” said he, “ the next drunken man I take up, | will break | his head with m sidered a whenever he has any dog has been brought followed up.” Now, this gentle “ Dovex” would have been just the bird to oppose to such @ beast as Caxwon. The latter is precisely the subject for the former to have taken up. tually opposed, they might, \ike violent chemical agents, have neutralised oa other’s active properties: at least have reduced one another to that state in which each had better be for the welfare of society. St SoS AN UNENLIGHTENED CLERGYMAN. to boast of the imtelligenee of the age, but great intel- staff.” ¢ may mention -n passant, , he is in the constant habit of having a large dog at his heels duty to perform. The subject of the propriety of keeping such a betes tee the magistrates more than once, but still the system is are Castle Hedingham Conservative t, that although Dovey is con | dinner, a clergyman, the Rev. J. Cox, | to the insults offered to Mason Beuesvoun at the election for | said, “ Among disgraceful standards exhfbited, was one with whe words‘ A shilling tor ike toad ond peck 1 oar maui wommat ong, Sot Sie. Ce, as a teacher of the people, oe See on and pluck” in the literal, anatomical, and | Another time we trust Mx. Cox will recollect that “ language of the free and i t signifies wisdom, and * pinck,” | valour, and not run a bie over-sensitive nose against a popular melnyeer. to know better than to understand the words | head,’ is the |

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182 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. SMITHFIEL | i) | ti {\ SEWERS | . COAL. DUES OH ITY TOL)! —_— We hear a”great deal about the leading men in the City, and one would naturally expect to find them a good way in advance of the age ; more especially when we see them putting themselves forward to claim precedence on numerous occasions. Whenever there is a feast ora show on any grand ecale, the Corporation of London wants to have the firet finger in the pie, and all the front seats at the spectacle. When the QueEN visited the City, the Corporation had not only the first finger in the pie, but all its fingers in all the pies, tarts, jellies, and custard cups. Not satisfied with a reasonable proximity to Royalty, the Corporation and its friends mobbed Majesty to such an unpleasant extent, that the Queen could hardly make her way to the “ appointed spot” where refreshments awaited her. After the specimen thus recently given of the sort of use made of their precedence by the City Magistrates, we may naturally ask, what is likely to be the result of their having it their own way at the late luke or Wexuineton’s funeral? tting aside the possibility of their not knowing how to behave themselves, and converting a solemn ceremony into an indecent scramble, we should like to inquire how far the City potentates are foremost in general matters, so as to justify their claim to take the FIRST PLACE on great occasions. The City has, indoubtedly, taken precedence in the great Smithfield nuisance question, for it is only too notorious that the City has been the first—and the last—in trying to uphold the cause of filth within its precincts, In the article of Sewers, also, the City has shown a forwardness in hanging backward, and a strong disinclination to follow anything—even though it should be the spirit of the 7imes—which points in the direc- tion of ess. Another remarkable instance of City forwardness is shown in the eagerness of the Corporation to advance the price of coals, by putting a tax on them for the profit of the Corporation, and for the loss of the public in general. Another claim to precedence on the part of the City may be ced from its going beyond everything else in the way of exaction, and rushing forward to its very gate to take toll from those who enter. We think we have disposed of the claim to precedence set up by the civie authorities. We are aware that the Lonp Mayor assumes the right of blocking up Temple Bar, even against Majesty itself; but, happily, loyalty, in the humble guise of a hair-dresser, has taken up its quarters in the shop under the archway, and is ready to let Her Mazesty in by a side-door, should the City potentates venture to carry their claim of precedence to such a point as the exclusion of the sovereign from the seat of Mayoral mock monarchy. | th TOL(DEROLDEROLD)ERATION ! SONG AND CHORUS: TO BE LEARNED BY MR. LUCAS AND THE IRISH BRIGADE, And Sung by them at the Opening of Parliament, to the tune of the “ Vicar of Bray.” Sweet Protestants, attend to me, Dear goose, and gull, and pigeon, We want to have equality In matters of religion ; But what that means let me expound, And don’t suppose we hate you; T’il tell you how—should we get ground— We mean to tolerate you; Chorus, Yes, when we once have gained our end; and that is Domination, We’ll tolerate you with a tol—derolderolderation. Between us whilst the ie are In equal parts Mivided The Law’s protection we will share In no respect one-sided ; , Be free to teach, and preach, and pray, As pleases your volition, And unmolested go your way Serenely to perdition ; Chorus A: d when we once have gained our end; and that is Domination, We'll tolerate you with a tol—derolderolderation. Object to relic or to saint, Our wonders treat as fable, We'll put you under no restraint One hour before we ’re able; Your tongues against our tenets wag, And we will grin and bear it, Nor ever put you on the gag, Till we can _— you wear it ; horus. Then when at last we've gained our end; and that is Domination, We'll tolerate you with a tol—derolderolderation. But when—-the blessed day, we hope, Is not extremely distant— The realm at large shall own the Porz, We must be more consistent. To wretch that from our faith secedes Due justice shall be meted; For heretics are baleful w And should = be treated : orus. So when at length we ’ve gained our end; and that is Domination, We'll tolerate you with a tol—derolderolderation. And thus we ’ve made it plain and clear As daylight, Ma. Speaker, That you from us have nought to fear, As long as we’re the weaker; Our liberal professions you Will not look as a sham on, But rest assured that they are true, And no delusive gammon; orus. Aware that when we've gained our end ; and that is Domination, We’ |l tolerate you with a tol—derolderolderation. So when we rise to ask full swing And scope for our persuasion, The Mapzat of course youll bring Not up on that occasion ; Nor, now our sentiments are known, And you see what we’re after, Receive our eloquence with groan, And hiss, and a laughter ; orus, Assured that when we’ve gained our end; the which is Domination, We'll tolerate you with a tol—derolderolderation ! PUNCTUALITY (NOT) THE SOUL OF BUSINESS. Ir is evident that the railways are governed by old Tories; because e trains are always behind their time.

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| this to give two good kisses to the august head.” bave been sublimating: nay, would, no doubt—(it seems a} | no one to touch, or scarcely even to look in the face.” | wise with the | kissed the Pops, and | the courageous eat that | at this minute, “TWO GOOD KISSES” OF THE POPE. Tue French Gewenat Gemeav is a proud, almost asacred man. He has given two good kisses to infallibility. The Pors, writes the General, embraced him cordially, when he says, “ | took the advantage” —(leave Louis NaPoizon’s general alone for that)—" the advantage Kisses so given must paradox)—hbave been equally so, had they been quite the reverse. _ “The august head ’—eontinues the General—“ which it is permitted But it is other- : he bas at once indicated his filial affection as a son of the Church and his audacity as asoldier. General GEMeEAu has henceforth take his place side by side with ed at a king! Two good kisses of the Por by the private ambassador of Louis Naroteon! Kisses of Jupasin regimentals! Traitorous smacks that, resound through France; making sad, almost despairing | the hearts of true men, and filling the smothering bosoms of a grasping, | tyrannous, and soul-enslaving priesthood with ‘opes, nay, with | gives them affectionate salutation, and the | make him a present of their bodies and souls. domination. Lovis Napoteon kisses the priesthood ; iesthood, for a time, The callow Emrenor is svch an affectionate, such an enduring son of the Church, that the Chareh will sing Hosannahs to him—will see in the hero of the seeond of December the “ Elect of God ;” the election having been made in —— blood, and hailed with the groans of the outraged and dying. owever now no doubt of the nature of the General’s visit to the Vatican. I only right that Prus tz NintrH—the Wolf in the Holy Lambskin— should consecrate Louis Narotzon, the Perjurer in the Purple. assurance PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. of | assuming the “ im we are giad that the Pore will visit Paris: for t 7 is tis 183 During the earlier portion of his Jabours Mr. Disnaet invariably wore the plaid waistcoat well known to frequenters of the House of Commons, but he has exchanged it for a pave velvet one since the cold weather set in, It is a curious coincidence, to say no more, that Louis Napo- Leow, and our own CuawceLton or tue Excurquen, should be purple” at the same time, but truth is stranger than fiction. We have only to add, that the Honourable gentleman is fully alive to the wisdom of the old Delookulo serjere Sal uberri- | mum est, being always at his desk o'clock in the morning; | but although we know it is the early bird that catches the “ worm,” we are disi to believe the Coancenson oy THe Excurquek medi- tates any new duty on ardent spirits. ‘Time will show. Nous verrons. [LATEST PARTICULARS, } ‘ Saturday Night, We have an im addition tomake to our announcement. Ina conversation which Mz. Disxaxad had this day with his wine-merchaat, Mr. Bowe (of the eminent firm of Fuxcus awp Bune, Piccadilly), the Right Honourable some claret, said, on Mex. Bune’s mentioning Bune; too dear.” It is im the CoynceLion cr THE _E\cHeQuse’s responsible situation , — use such words without a | dee Cnet snes doer. The tte the e of pen-oflicial men. a, codiienn ofan. | And howion to became | duty ow French wines is ¢o commoff. wheesn doit? Verbum sap. The Of course Naroteon IIL. will be duly anointed. How about the oil? Could it not be brought to him by a real dove? The Bo eagle was a failure; but doves are more teachable. Again, if no lw dove can be got up in the part, there are needy clever fellows, adroit mechanicians among the Jesuits, who—after the manner of Reciomem TANUS make a wooden dove that should seem like life. When # religious mummery is to be up, the Catholic Church was never yet short of properties, Let a dove be ordered. ns And for the anointing, if there be any gratitude—even a suspicion of gratitude—in Naroxeon III., he ought to have the oil not simple oil, but oil mixed: darkened and flavoured with printers’ ink: say three or four precious drops from the ink-tubs of the Morning Post / of the Three Tailors of Tooley Street, has been at last matched by the Mayor or Stvzes, who, in the my oy the people, claimed the Em i. Such a declaration from such a source is about equivalent to a mani- pas ‘ festo from Putney, pro- = ‘ ° : ~ claiming England a LETTING THE CAT OUT OF THE BUDGET. ae EES. (From a Sunday Paper.) the nation oer A We are enabled to state, from exclusive sources of information, that the Cuance.lorn or THE ExcueQueRr is constantly and intensely occupied with the ion of his fotthcoming . As be works with his door bolted, and has stuffed up the key-hole with paper, | = under the plausible, but transparent excuse of a draught, we cannot| = pretend to describe the exact manner in which he proceeds, but from sounds which are occasionally heard, and from the report of the servant who brings the Right Honourable gentleman his lunch, we can state, unhesitatingly, that he is taking great pains with his work. We were the only journal to mention, last week, that the report that Ma. Dismazxi used quills was unfounded, and we are now able to add, that he never | been so eager to writes but with a magnum-bonum, into which an ivory handle used to| fabricate, It is = somewhat coincidence that Sevres, the be inserted, but which the Right Honourable gentleman found too! emporium of Porcelain, should heen first to declare an cold for his fingers, has been rejected for a cedar-wood pencil (HH.).| Bmperor so absolute as to be worthy of Caiza, Of course it would be premature to offer any speculation as to the | nature of the fiscal changes to be proposed by the CuanceLior oF THE Excuequer, but from inspection of the marks on the pad protectorate. Sdvres, as almost everybody will be i oracie, the Mayor, — ——__i— A Whale with the Tooth-ache. of blotting-paper on which he works, our informant states that there “4 no reason to believe that any of the more important interests of the | country will be specifically assailed, although the general complexion of the budget will, y, be of a Protectionist character. Irish politicians may deduce some fancifal prophecy from the fact, that | several pieces of Orange-peei have been observed in the Right Honourable gentleman’s fender, and the advocates of Jewish emancipation may not be uninterested in learning, that Ma. Dismaz.t bas twice purchased Oranges at the shop of a well-known fruiterer, of the Hebrew persua- tion. But we are not inclined to assert for these circumstances more | significance than attaches to an accident. Late in the afternoon of yesterday Ma. Disrazii was overheard to | remark to himself that it was “ deuced cool,” but whether this obser- vation applied to any political act of any of his colleagues, or to the state of the w r (our readers will remember that the thermometer was low all day), we will not presume to decide; though, if we couple | the remark with the fact that the CuanceLLor or Taz Excuequer | shortly afterwards ran for coals, we think we may claim an approxi- mation to the real truth of the case, in preferring the latter solution. We have lately seen an account of a whale suffering severely with the tooth-ache. We pity any poor creature, and especially a whale, afflicted | with such a malady, iculariy as there is no eflective remedy but extraction, and there is no ss whom a eee ay to “ have it omg,” harpoon is rather a ! tootimpick if it happens to hit the right place; but the suffering whale would experience little relief from such denta!/—or rather acci-dental—succour. We must | confess we disbelieve the story of the tooth-ache, which is eo very | un-like a whale. Sympathetic Paper. It seems paper can be made out of sheet-iron. May we recommend | the use of thie paper to Lovis Napoteom? It is decidedly the best material for him to write his decrees upon. The Code Naroteon, ~" when amended for the new Empire, should be printed on a similar ki of paper. The laws which govern the French should be, like the | Freoch themselves, appropriately bound in iron.

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ie Cie

84 ' ; PUNCH, oR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

] AN OUTFIT FOR TEN GUINBAS.

Hi 1 uy N/A al il

} AWL “|

Mrs Mr.

sits aim!” “On! po Look wERE, Dear! How EXTREMELY PretTyY THe AvuTUMN FasHions ARR, TO BE SURE. WaT A PERFECTLY LOVELY LITTLE Cloak!” ram iH) amounting to downright Or course, to a shoe-maker, there is like | leather,” and i ic ah tor eee aes an advertising dealer in ey oy recommends an outfit,” consisting solely 5 solely of but, 7 == = all too insufficient attire. persons in i qpuatay have, we are ye & VYegue notion, that in the | Colonies the natives are yg ly peepee é ase 4 a few feathers, stuck in the os cnt dame ies pon which they have a right to plame themse! handbill we have just seen from a rushes into the opposite extreme, recommends boots 4 ind shoes as the sole articles necessary in an outfit. Ten \\ <uineas’ worth are sSested, wil: & Sub sapere to variety, ‘om the elegant dress japan to the coarse and clumsy _ ,highlow. It is true that van london emigrant takes an ‘ge 'mportant step, but this is no reason why his should require ooking to. A \ at a Colony with no otber of shoes, would feel that the tradesman thus fleecing him would owe him some sort of redress, which would then be Sage cages a , e do not profess to understand the principle w which a stock of boots and shoes are nse mar | complete “outfit.” Among i “ resilient, or perfectly ‘ate ball or dinner boo's for thirty. shillings. x 1 ~ Mow Magee literally eaping up again again,” & y mn | | boots, which, though perhaps suitable to a ball, Ka: | be rather inconvenient at a dinner.

“The Conjuror Puzzled. — Exrectatiow will soon be on the sharpest tip of its = longest toe, for the purpore of witnessing the G Bottle | Trick of the great political ag npreet he Wizard of all | the points of the weathercock is naturally puzzled as to ong | means of “ doing the trick,” and he, sits at present | dering with great anxiety over his “measure.” Wi ing (rapidly changing the subject). “ Yes, yes! Bravtiru! stautirut! sur} to lend him a helping hand, we offer him the friendly hint, SRE, LOVE, WHAT A MsGNIFICENT BROWN Honsk, aND HOW SPLENDIDLY THAT Fattow | that if he hopes to get into the quart bottle, his only chance is to strain a pint.

INTERPRETATIONS FOR THE MILLION. As Ministers utterly refuse to reveal anything of their opinions and intentions, people are driven to endeavour to discover them, in some degree, for themselves. Punch is, at this present writing, quite overwhelmed with the shower of anecdotes which the nation, thirsti ing for information, is pouring in bah him, with supplications that he draw inferences as to the views and designs of the eminent individuals whose sayings and doings are thus recorded for him. Ever anxious to benefit and to oblige, Mr. Pusch subjoins a few interpretations whieh he has put upon the remarkable facts recently communicated. “Sra,—aAlt a Fag * dinner-party, the Eant or Densy seeing Lomp MALMESBURY, Se Secretary, about to take some anchovy with his cod- fish, said, “Tad ‘Ah! my dear fellow, don’t, don’t.’ What do you infer from this ? “Your obedient subscriber, Query.” (That the Paemrer strongly eeneres of Lonp Matmessurr’s habit of putting up with foreign sauce.— “ Lapy Biancue ALMowDVILLE (by her ’s desire) informs dear Mr. Punch that she was the aay of the CHANCELLOR OF THE Excuequer in a quadrille last week. After “the second figure, Dismazil, who talks very delightfully, said, ‘I think we got th Rté pretty well.’ Biawcne is desired to ask Mr. Punch whether there was any concealed meaning in these words—she does not believe it, ve her papa does.” (The Earl is right. Mn. Disnarii meant that his sf was satisfied with the result of the General Election this summer.—P } “Dagar Ma. Puncu.—I had a box at{the Haymarket Theatre a few uights since. My next neiqubens was one of the ISTERS, with a party. In the course of the Lg agree which was Moncey, the Mnsister said ‘Wester will his teeth directly; capital fun.’

Sarely this meant something more than merefappreciation of my,friend BeNJAMIN’S humour. « Yours perpetually, SCRUTATOR PuBLicus.” [It meant that a certain American Statesman might see fit to swagger, but that he was only talking for the elections. No war.—P.) “Mr. Puxcu.—Going by the Lorp Caamncettor’s house on Tuesday, I observed two of his lordship’s domestics at the door. One of them, as I passed, said to the other, ‘His lordship thought he should get to Doctor’s Commons before Wiitiam, who was a-foot.’ Had this speech any other significance than what lies on the surface ? “T am, your obedient servant, VictLant Jowzs.” (Certainly, Jowes.—It meant that Lorn St. Lzowarps hoped to pass a Bill walking into the Ecclesiastical Courts.—P.] “Two gents beg to inform Punch that travelling for a lark last week, they were by haccident in the same train with the Secxer- TORY OF War. He was quite haffable, and did not abuse them in the least, neither call them ‘ rabble,’ which,as they have not — of them got votes, he might have done. But, at getting out, the Mazon said, * Behind time again, as us pon my word it’s too bad.’ Did he mean anything more than ne said, nthe gents would like to know, as there is a bet on the subject ? ” (No, gents. The Mason’s speeches have never more than one meaning, and not always even that.—P. A Happy Expression. Ong of “Our own Corres: pondents,” speaking of the ( ) dis- covery of an infernal machine at Marseilles, says, very vay tao, The plot, it is thought, was originally hatched at Toulon.” Hatched! Yes; that’s just the very word seeing that the discovery, there is little doubt, was a complete fori

Pronved oy Wilham Bradbury, of No. 14 U Wobarn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, aad Frederick M Precincts of Whiteiriars, tm the City ef London, and Published by Lbem at No. %, Fleet Office 'n Lombard Street, in the ness Druze, of Bo. 7. Chareh Row, Stoke 8 a the County of Printers, at their Street, in the Parieh of 3. Bride's in t (A A a a ard 1662. j

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 185 APPROPRIATE PRESENT. Tue annexed is a little offering of respect and gratitude from the last ship-load of convicts to Australia to the present head of the Home Office. It is a beautiful work of art, representing the head or “nob” | of a “ cracksman,”’ made of pure gold from the Diggings, and bears the following inscription :— “70 THE SECRETARY OF STATE FOR THE HOME DEPARTMENT FOR THE TIME BEIXG, THE GRATEFUL OFFERING oF 500 Convicts, WHO, HAVING LEFT THEIR COUNTRY FOR THEIR COUNTRY’S GOOD, HAVE FOUND IT VERY MUCH FOR THEIR OWN GOOD ALSO. “To all who wish to better themselves in life we can hold up our own example and say, ‘Go thou and do likewise.’” The gift was accompanied with the following copy of verses, evidently the production of one of these unlettered and simple-minded men. > wos lagged for warious acts of And in vence was sent to the Were we ’as the best o’ grub; And if so be we likes the washin’ tub, we ae wom - pas he Denes 2 oe, - ich is upards o” three pound, wich it aint pay. Kod warn't reqaciy on the pregia’ erke warn y on priggin’ lurk, Vy, he couldn’t earn above two shillin’ « he might be both strong and willin’ ; Wich shows the diffsrence atween the old country and this ere— So weep not for me, my comrades dear, My time is hu yk Palas Then stay awhile and foller me. Crack a crib as I done, and get fifteen year, rigein’, ggins’, And arter two they sends you out, with your ticket o” leave clear ; Where you can either dig gold yourself like hus, Or if you dont like that, vy you can bone from them as does. “(Signed) Bru Syxes, “his X mark.” “THE PEOPLE’S SUNDAY SCHOOL.” Terr Crystal Sunday School—Sunday having had its religious dues ; dues, by the way, more likely to be paid by the exalting, purifying influences that must of a surety make the atmosphere of the ag ( ; an excellent and appropriate name for it, doub in its work-day guise. But, on Sundays, let it be deemed and visited | as the People’s Sunday Schoo!—a title happily bestowed upon the marvel—as the rumour has reached us—by the enlightened and pro- found Cuevatiern Buwsex, Prussia’s learned ambassador; a man, | we humbly believe, to the full as likely to know the required | P 'M. Borr —————— dues of the Sabbath as even Spotrimwoop, aye, or it may be, Piomprre. And, stimulated by such knowledge, our Prussian Am- baseador, with other ambaseadors, is doing his best and heartiest to furnish the aforesaid Sunday School with wondrous objects, each of them a potent text to raise and refine the pupil people: objects, it may be, of a somewhat more remote sort than are to be found at the Rose- |mary Branch on Sundays, or even at the Sabbath Grecian Saloon. |Bonsew sends to men of kindred worth and knowledge — to |Guxnargp, Lepsius, De Otrens, of Berlin—to throw open their | precious stores to the searching and selecting capacities of Owsw Jones and Diesy Wrartt, the Crystal travellers sent away to bring back and naturalize at Sydenham all the wonders of ancien foreign art. At Naples, the travellers—for the first time check —strangely enough meet with the coldest of cold shoulders from the most sulphureous of Kings, Bomsa of bomb-throwing note. What then? Sra Wittiam Temete—stout brother of the stoutest and blithest of bottle-holders, Parmerstow—steps in; mollifies the brimstone court towards Jowzs and Wyatt, even though catering for heretical, liberal England; and our travellers, further aided by letters from Princes Carpyt, Neapolitan Ambassador at Lutheran St. James’s, are permitted to make their way to the treasures of Naples, to elect objects to be copied, casts to be taken; in fact to lay Naples under such pleasant, humanizing contribution that—ever since ber monopoly of sulphur ceased—it may be Naples has never been so com- plaisant to unorthodox Kngland. let justice be done to—what shall we call them ?—the Torics, now in Downing Street ? No: They renounce the name, smelling as it does of bigotry dead, and a little noisome. Protectionists, then? Why, no; by no means Proteetionists, as it is said Lorpy Dexsy’s Qoeen’s Speech from the throne will make manifest, Well, then, Hex Masesty’s Ministers—even short-coming Macmessury, to boot—have smiled upon the People’s Crystal Palace and People’s Sunday School, vouchsafing to Mn. Samug. Paiiprs— active, suggestive teacher and Gold-Stick at the School and Palace of the coming summer—sympathising and encouraging syllables. For the _Eart or Dexsy—and he knows it—will have to face the bishops ; |will have to answer well-meaning, but at times weakly-thinking SHAPTESBURY. Hall, with its thousand indignant fingers, | twitches its thousand white neckcloths, crying, “ No such Sunday | School for the People.” The meek and pious ARCHBISHOP OF CanTER- Bury is beset by a horde of what is called the inferior clergy. Pluralist rectors and vicars, with souls separated by counties to save, wax wroth in the pulpit, one Sp cone as though that church velvet were Sydenham Crystal to be shivered into atoms by the pious fist. And the Kart or Denrsy will have to meet this: yes, he will | have to swallow the hlack draught prepared for him at Exeter Hall, and has resolved to take it, defying its effects. We can almost prophesy a few of the arguments—all of them thurderbolte—selected even from the Times of Friday, in which the future wonders of the Crystal Palace are gorgeously forecast like the glories of an Eastern sunrise. Is there not to be an Italian garden— one of the many wonders of wonder-working Paxtow—of 40 acres ? And will not this Italian garden— Mar. PLumerre may weepingly _demand—lead away the thoughts of Protestant England to the soil of |Rome? Asa e of what is to be done, no less than 50,000 scarlet _geranioms are ordered; and in early season will be in full bloom, | ider it: 50,000 scarlet geraniums! Why, pondered on Sundays, | will (they not convert the Protestant mind, causing it by irresistible influence to accept and love the Scarlet Abomination ? Again. Paxtow promises that his two Pyramid Fountains will play twice as long as the “ Grandes Eaux”—the Waters at Versaiiles, | With twice the bulk of water, will there not—asks the Rev. Janez Crask—will there not be twice the amount of Sabbath sin? The wickedness of Versailles will, of a verity, be doubled at Sydenham ! Moreover, there are to be water-falls, small Niagaras. Why, it is plain that the people, after looking u so much water—water sparkling here, water roaring and tumbling there—will only feel a greater thirst for the public-house, says Frankincense. Is it not | plain, my brethren—is it not inevi uman wickedness that it should be so—that with so much water, the people will and must have so much Sabbath gin ? | Yet farther scandals. There are to be rocks scattered here and there, to preach geology. Sermons in stones! When such sermons are listened to, is not—asks a Canterbury Moonz—is not the Church in And to conclude, we are to have models of Nineveh Lions (all of them smacking their lips at the cocknies to be devoured), Assyrian | Palaces, Assyrian Courts, with all the doomed and denounced of SzwwaCuEnis and others too wicked to mention. Dr. Laranp and ‘a are to superintend the idolatries, and—where do they think | they ’ll go to? Such—Puach prophesies—is sample of the wilhering, destructive arguments to be buried at the head of the Eant or Dewsr, who, in the stiff-neckedness of profane chivalry, has resolved to meet and, in bis own graceful way, to smile at them. j } | VOL, XXIII. U

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en Peer 186 PUNCH. OR THE L ONDON CHARIVARL “& PERSON OF HIS RANK.” eh Sin Jemes Frawois Rivess, Baat., has been fined and drolly lectured agistrates Sin James Faanoms Rivers, Baat., is an eccentric gentle. man—an odd chivalrous member of the bloody band, the symbol of his title: for Stn James *® Francis Rivens, Barr., driving to the —_ Rail way in a fitti was—on gO — mildly mate me with by Isaac Cazw, railway porter, an Samoet Hares, 5 eared policeman, To shorten the tale, Sim James Faancis Rivers, Baagt., beat and lashed about ~ whi Crew ly deal- upon + - policeman ing in the stomach fy which had disabled the | man from his duties since the time, causing him to 1, spit blood. “The magistrates consulted together, the Mayor | (Ma. W. Lona), addressing | the defendant, said the magis- trates had had no hesitation whatever in coming to a de-| ¢ision on this matter, which was very discreditable to him. | For the first offence he was fined Ss. and costs, or fn default to be committed for one month; and for the second assan!t, which was more serious, he was fined in the fall penalty of 5/. and costs, or in default to be committed for two months.” Of course Six James Feancis Rivers, Bart., put his symbolical “bloody hand” in his pocket, and pulled out the fine and costs. Mild and merciful magistrates of Bath,—fortunate Sin James Francis Kivers, Bart.! For once upon a time there was—and is, and will be, | we , for many a day—a London e named HaRrpwick, | ‘who piled one of the tdike Of siueuamned Gomnaser, to penitential retirement under the guardianstip of Governor CurstTeRton, the firm | and bland, of the House of Correction: the said Hanpwick refusing to mulet in money the police-whi Somenset. Hence, it is safer | fora “ man of rank” to soundly Peveaity tira two men at the Bath Railway Station than to give two or three flourishing cuts about one — in Rotten Row. Thes tary wisdom, too, uttered by a Bath + np og is we ae novel ot nebastive. Addressing Simm J. F. R., | Baxt., he said | “ For a person a his rank such conduct was most discreditable.—The fines — been paid, the defemdant left the Court. It is mot long since Sim Janes was fined in | the same court for furious driving.” | | Most discreditable! Quite otherwise, Mz. Maron. Nothing in this | commercial country is discreditable if a man can, and is allowed to pay, for it. Money is the real faller’s earth, and—if permitted to | applied—takes out even stains of ruffianism. It would a 7 | “most disereditable”’ to Sim James Frawots Rivers, Bart., | been locked up for a term with penniless ruffians, pauper des but the “ fines having been paid,” there is nothing discredi in the transaction. Ready money covers a multitude of sins. — ————— Political On Dit. | Ir is said that the Eant or Denny is about to issue cards to the leading members of his party, for a grand dinner on the 3rd of next | month, being the eve of the opening of Parliament. zu principal dish at this entertainment, will, we understand, consist of a large Humble Pie, which the guests will partake of previously to renouncing Pro- «| tection, and making amends to We the memory of Stn Roseat Peer. AN ILLITERATE MONSTER. | Tue sara! s Stationery Office is to be removed from Great James | | Street, Westminster, to Princes Street. A sad fellow—better versed in | Mrtter than in DinwortH—says he didn’t know that the Stationary Office was moveable ! d order placed one above the rr [UMPHAL ENTRY OF THE EMPBROR OF ALL | THE BEADLES INTO THE LOWTHER ARCADE. At two o’clock his Highness the by a very brilliant staff—quite new for the oceasion—arrived at the Strand terminus of the Arcade, followed by an immense crowd ot young girls, and still younger boys, who saluted him with the wildest shouts of “Long life to the of affection. Re) im he wey, bl the a detailed account of the various struetures o- way, e, "9 Ving Bome.ell,” and other demonstrations the operations were so extensive that they were | when he reached the entrance of the Ar and | the noise Of the hammers blended cheerfully with the cheers the ninnyhammers a the moment of his arrival. There were several triumphal monuments in various parts of the ion Arcade; but, the window j at the principal entrance. The re of columns of the Corinthian delicious spongey-looking cake, bearing om the frieze a scroll con- the most striking of the whole was that in | The lower series were of a | taining the-words, “Orders supplied,” amd imtended, no doubt, as a | comple to the Beadle, by whom Order had been re-established. mounted with a dl of almond cake, enclosing the word “ Katifée,” in honour of him by whom ae of the Arcade are ratified. In the middle of the temple a fizure with one hand to | some magnificent bowls ale whhe dark resembling marble, while the other hand—containing a with the words “ always ready,”—seemed to indicate that that the might rely on the Arcade being constantly to do him honour. At the toy-shep, roto the ground was by a line of coraley, aaa consisting of a file of light wooden horse, i there arose to a ‘flags, there being one than the ewith | on a glazed ealieo in gold paper Ne a hate idee ete ium’ arch, going com- | pletely across from side to side, and erected at the joint expense of the cheap China-shop and the establishment for the sale of wind instruments. |One side of the arch sprung from a tic vase at the base, till it ‘or | tapered up into a small candlestick, holding a taper in the centre, where it was met by the mouth-pieee of a small flageolet, and terminated on the other side in the wrong end of am enormous ields, “ words “ Buwaiez IL.” The balcony at the hair-dresser’s was ornamented with a facade of | a having a large label attached to it, inscribed ‘VIVE BUMBLE I1!—-THE HAIR OF THE BEADLEDOM.” The front of the tailor’s was completely coated over with af his art, and at the om page! concern, tiseding wal eel _ rvices”’ were represented by the ingenious a tea set. At the same establishment — was also a detached con- sisting of several plates of China, laid mounted with a vase bearing the word “ Desert,” on a white and intended to testify to the desert of his Highness the Beadle. At a small toy-shop near the centre of the Arcade there was a remark- able ornament, representing’ a colossal -_ “@ la Beadle” on its fore feet, and surmounted encircled by a scroll, on w Bumsce II.,” in golden letters. At about agg one the music of the celebrated Rheumatic Band—so s staff ‘or its shakes—was heard to be| iz the Strand, and the Band we 4 fell in at the corner of the Arcade, where it fell out with a cons In the mean time a stream of deputations from all the markets of he | London began to congregate at the same spot in the f dis-order. 3 A band of fish-dealers represented the market of Clare, all carrying their baskets, one of which was surmounted a representation of a Whelk inscribed, in the tou ois Of the place, with the simple word “ Welk-’um/” Newport by a party of young be ys and old the latter bearing large bunches of greens and evergreens. At a quarter to two, the old watchmen of the first Beadledom made their appearance, while the Kheumatic Band — up “ Charley’s my larling ;” and at their rear walked a man » supposed to be intended for a portrait of the greatest of all Charliea--tha illus- trious CaroLus Macsus, or CHARLEMAGNE. ket came next, represented the former wearing blouses, and | was seen, the Whelk inscribed “ Welk-"um | ® was held up te his ey: | presented to him a small bouquet of water-cress, whieh he held in his hand for some time till he ate a portion, and poeketed the remainder. a A young girl then came forward with ended in her hand, and the barbers’ poles, from one of which depended a fac-simile of the first | oe tmel | one above the other, sur- | ground, the words | was written “T’ Ancade de Lowther és

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| | PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARTVART. 187 bystanders would have kept her off, but the Beadle, waving them back, stooped down received a sweetmeat, known as BowaPaRTs’s ribs, which he pressed to his heart, and then put to his lips, very fervently, during the rest of the day’s em ‘ In the meantime the Beadle his way | where he was received in the most enthusiastic manner. | during the morning for disturbing the public tranquillity, by raising the cry of “ Lubli-e-te "—a cry associated with such /ristes souvenirs to the party of order. This act of clemency had the best effect ; but it yet remains to seen how the other Arcades—or foreign powers—will receive the establishment of hereditary Beadledom in the Buwsie THE EVE OF ST. GUY. (From the “ Galway V ituperator.’”) “ Parliament will meet on the Fourth of November.”— Times. No hour when our dastardly foes, ™aht could assemble > amen Bat the Eve of the Feast at whose mention they tremble | —Thore skulking assassins— the Eve or Sr. Guy? demonstration, unless an attempt should be made to extend the Lowther boundaries with a view to the ultimate Yannexation of the Arcade-dom of Exeter. The independence of this smal! constitutional through the Arcade, Beadledom is thought to be so essential to the balance of power, that oe | any outrage on its fl In the centre of the Arcade the Beadle drew up opposite his own | forth a remonstrance watch-box, and released from it boy who had been confined there | C by invading its pavement would at once call rom foreign » among which St. Martin’ ourt would be the most prominent. — ap At the conelusion of the ceremony His Highness retired, amidst | oui. The Burlington autocrat will not, it ie supposed, make any | enthusiastic shouts of “ Vivre Buwsze I/.,” while the Rheumatic Band | played a favourite air, and minute guns—the minutest that could be ‘ound im the lecal toy-shops—discharged repeated volleys of nothing, in uonour of the oeeasion. THE BOTTLE TRICK. te ome off on - of difference. Mr. Disnaeit bas astonished he—the Cuawopiion or THE I xcueQuER— although with a already made it bottle—oonsidered it in many |ights—measured his height and bulk against the vitreous vessel, and dec that he is altogether trick, in fact, quiteabeveit. The Raver or Dery was of course somewhat astonished at this avowal for. commencing their Session — Bat that most dis- | Pro- ARL believed that's Minister, to keep his place, ight make himself small enongh to enter into “And was the bottle trick to be wholly abandoned?” “ Not s0,” answered the astute, the enlightened Disnarii- “ |i is my intention ”—(mind, reader; Punch only gives duties on French wines. | buy two bottles of wine for the present price of Yet, ha! let usthank them—aye, | one bottle—shall [ not, though with a beautiful thank them sincerely ; It is said enmity baulks, And the Commons of England shall rue very dearly taunt that remind us of The Yes, Goro the gallant, thy torch, though unlighted, Has lighted a flame we will never let die, And in awful debates shall the seoff be requited That summon’d the House on the Eve or Sr. Guy. Aye, Martyr the Mat chiess—(forgive the misnomer, Thy bundle of matclres one moment forget) — We come for a ba'tie more deadly than Homer desing, were he extant, which Homer is not. The Irish Bogade, in a holy alliance No Saxon shall browbrat, no heretie buy, Bids the vile English boors a tremendous defiance— The fight to begin ow the Eve or Sr. Guy. By our rites and our wrongs! By those Virgins you slaughtered (Whose children shall yet for red vengeance arise) By the gailons of whiskey so brutally watered To suit the mean guage of your hateful Excise : By Batan Bonoo, and that other O’ Baten Deposed and deported—to reign by-and bye— We swear that in future the cowed British Lion Shall how! when he thinks of the Eve or Sr. Gor. For we’ll better the lesson of Gurpe, your victim, Whose failure alone can be counted his crime ; The minions of Protestant tyranny nicked him, — As the saint. was proceeding to kindle the “ prime.” More neatly we ‘ll manage our Popish Aggression— (Tis bless’d by Our Lady Who Winks With Each Eye)— We’|l Brow Eseuianp Ur every night of the session She dares to commence on the Eve or Sr. Gor. A Cawnowapt.—lIr we are asked what we think about the ruffian Caxwow, our opinion is that such a Cawnow ought to be loaded with chains; but ones so loaded never to be discharged, as it must be dangerous to let any Cawwow of that sort off. candid ought | that Lorp Deasy—in his emotion wholly for- | getting his rank, quite oblivious of the tremendous difference between his high blood and the mere | Disraexi with a fervour and sincerity only known | to Prime Ministers, | It is also said that the great and gallant Secretary-at-War has expressed himself much disgusted at the influence obtained, and held by the bookman Chance’ Prime Minister. retary has asked—“ isn’t it awfa!, and dangerous ied by Ste James Gaawam | Parliament—will, | or Dery that | cannot go into the bettie. He has looked at the | too big for the | ¢ his lieutenamt, imasmuch as the chivalrous | this private and confidential conversation upon | | rumour)—“ it is my intention to take off the | Thus, if aman | L | difference, make a quart of wine enter where | Their blunder its venomous | before there could only be a pint?” resumed to| ink of the literary Chancellor—embraced Mr. | AWKES. lior over the cock-fighting | “ fen't it dreadfal ’—our See- | to the brightest jewels of the Crown, which is the | Established Churcls and the Throne, that one of the rabble of Paternoster Row should be trusted | with the Exch * And then, to think an ink- | stand should climb above a coronet!” And | then in a deep, somewhat pathetic, but very | confidential whisper, he has added at the club, | being at the time far from the low editor that | |“‘the conditions of society” sometimes seat | cheek-by-jow! with him “on the same sofa” — then has Benreronn added, “but the fact is | this! Dizzy rules Denpy with a goose-quill of liron!*” Where the iron goose was hatched we know not; but the gallant Irishman may, on | inquiry, refer the querist to his tailor. = Bedlam. Tae affairs of this Hospital seem to have been k at the lavish expenditure of the funds, or | the are bound to confess that the Governors and Dizeetors have. been regularly “ going it like | Rarcway Morro.— Slow and Sure ”—of an accident. | conde in quite a congenial spirit; for if we | | | brutal ill-treatment of the poor patients, we | »

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i la len el ie SE NEI: A VIENNA) tetiond Nat ee ey | ink used in the office of the Galway Execrator? 1s it prepared from ome. Then _— we we liga ery from the epee = ysing energy 0 pugy’s liquid, that it is composed of the prin written exhortations of the Dove of Galway ! " rally! Myr NN AN PUTTING HIS FOOT IN IT. 1 J Little Hairdresser (mildly). “Yen ’atn’s VERY THIN ON THE Tor, Str!” Gentleman (of ungovernable temper). “My HAIR THIN ON THE TOP, Sin! AND WHAT IF IT Is! ConFounp rou, rou Pcppy, po you THINK I CAME HERE TO BE INSULTED AND TOLD OF MY PERSONAL DeFzects? I’t~ Tai rourn Tor!!” COCKERSDALE CHEMISTRY. Ma. W. Rantey, of Cockersdale Chemical Works, Leeds, writes to | the Galway Execrator altogether trumping the editor’s late notion of destroying Saxon armies by means of steam-engines hurling upon them masses of stone as big as [rish cabins. Such things are but as sugar- eo compared to the Cockersdale chymicals: for the exterminating ADLEY writes : “IT can prepare a liquid, « pint of which in a Glass Grenade-shell, thrown through a Barrack Window io the night would silently extinguish the whole of its living inhabitants, or broken in the face of an advancing Force, Horse or Foot matters not with the Wind in their teeth must infallibly arrest their progress by death or Paralysis.” However, “for the sake of humanity,” Raptey will not name “ this terrible compound.” O:herwise what blessed benefits might he confer upon England! About a thousand pints of this awful liquid in glass grenades would suffice to our coast against all comers; allowing them, perhaps, quietly to land, and then “ extinguishing” them on the beach to be duly as manure by the English farmer. Or a few gun-boats—their guns removed and replaced by Pint Glass Grenades— | would “extinguish ” the crews of the Austerli/z or the Napoleon, with | the five thousand fighting-men aboard ! It must be an awful liquid! Raper is, indeed, the real Bottle Imp ! What can the liquid be? Is it merely a stronger concentration of the the poison-sacs of the reptiles of Ireland ?—for that reptiles do now abound, despite the once acted miracle of St. Patrick, nobody who reads certain Irish leaders can doubt. We have it, Hureka! We have it. All the world knows the episcopal cooings of the “Dove of Galway.” If pigeons have milk— and it is proved, they do secrete a sort of lacteal fluid wherewith to soften food for their young—if pi have milk, so of course have CHEAP AS SCOTCH DIRT. Tus other day an island called Fogg, in Scotland, was to be sold for £4—its annual rental being four shillings. This is an eligible opportunity for any one who wishes te unite territorial influence, vassals, and all the other appurtenances of i he soil, at a low sovereignty of t figure. Any one purchasing the “ right little tight little” affair of an | island will of course buy a box of bricks for fortifications, some tin soldiers for military, a few brass cannons for artillery, and, by way of introducing the sports of the turf, he may possess himself of the famous “ Game of the Steeple-Chase.” We regret that we were not aware of this eligible opportunity, that we might have forwarded a five-pound note, requesting a Post-Office order for a pound in change, and demanding, by Parcels’ Delivery, the title deeds, &c., conferring the sovereignty of this snug concern on the fortunate END OF THE WHISTONIAN CONTROVERSY. Tuz Bisnor or Rocuestsr ing a face— Has put Ma. Wauistow again im his place, _ He owns Mr. Wuiston was right in the main, And therefore must take his position again. But oh! what a dose for the Brsnor to gulp! Ooe might fancy my Lord chewing colocynth pu'p, He at last got it down by the force of strong will : But his Lordship found justice a most bitter pill. “ ,PROPOS DE BOTTES.” Iraty has often been compared to a boot—which it is said to resemble in shape. But what a thousand pities that such a boot should have the iron heel of Austria upon it!

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—_—— LORD JOHN BLOWING UP .THE GUYS OF PARLIAMENT. A Design for the Fifth of November. Octozser 30. 1852.

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et ee eo Ngee, Yeh ~ LR SD nit agente See Ans F

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PUNCH ON THE HAIR. Tu title of Punch on the Hair may have a ing effect on the — PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

its affinity to Punch on the Head, but soln are quite sure we shall have the attention of both sexes of the human race when we) intimate that we are about to take in hand) the public hair, and put it into one or two} papers. The importance of the sub-| ect will be admitted on all hands, for | w many are they who have given | their heads to hair, with the view | of securing a vigorous crop of hair | been shed im the perpetual slaughter of bear after bear, and, indeed, it may be said that the! human hair has for many years | been watered by the blood of that | fatally fat-secreting animal ! importance of the hair is| The admitted by all, for there is scarcely I a human being, however negligent in other matters, who is not “ par- ticular to a hair,” in reference to what the t of the pomatum t or the s rd has cribed as “ Nature’s chiefest ornament.” le told by his teeth, the of a man is dis- by his want of it, for a bald head is a bald a sort of negative evidence. Time is continually pulling at our hair to remind us of his flight, and when he does not actually ir out by the roots, his iron hand leaves the grey, which accords with the evening of life,—the e his hair should bear in mind the principle of in,” for the hair, like an acquaintance that will by the very, process of cutting to be invited say a word on the properties of hair, and we entreat the let his hair stan m end when we tell him that it is com- i ur. When the lover pleads for act imploring a phosphate of one the hands of his mistress. Differen is hair, fact, speaking the naked truth by d ee 2 8 g rb tH a wig—we in general. ( hard-headed it is said that each separate hair is a complete tube, e case of black hair, be me = terns a Ai My de! at 7 = rf thoroughly effect | comb, the teeth of which irritate my == snaps off under erhaps the best way i ay rt tt pe you have only to it om again. Baldness may be attri! 1 [itectecing cho bein, Wel the folowing receipt >, 0 > the original, is the only one that can be reli ing the loss of hair in a case of baldness, RECEIPT. | Received of Samux. Smootupare, Esq,, one pound eleven and sizpence | for a new horse-hair wig of horse-chesnut. Bear’s Grease is highly recommended for the hair, but when a hair- | dresser bas the impertinence to tell us our hair is getting thin, and to recommend his own grease, we refuse to patronise the bear on the premises. | The naturalist would be much puzzled to know the bear by his u els the rain had fallen in last title | Decembre

grease as sold at the perfumers’ shops, and would infer the existence of and mutton Curli ind i the tell i Some would resort white hair, that they t s to their age, and the making white appear black, whieh hair is to use a lead comb, but any one have such a lead mine in his own purpose. e answer all Tue Silent Club, louse of Commons received n i eee a eas _< a compliment—he removed cipher to the ther end of fqusea, to indisuhe thatthe di now eemmbiered itself tenfold value. Mz. Jouw Butz intends When Ma. Disraexi merely strike out the colleagues will shortly to emulate these feateof silence. porate him with his “ Budget,” Ma. Buz will that they have received directions for their next move. =

A Housemaid’s Jubilee. Tue Gloucester Journal has the following puzzling paragraph :— “ The second Mop, whieh came off on Monday last, was, contrary to precedent, more fully attended than the first, owing, doubtless, to the dry weather, which did not prevail on the former oecasion.” We don’t know what a“ Mop” may be, but we should say there was no reason why the historian of the above large attendance should congratulate himself the of the weather, for even | fall the people would have been prepared for it with so good a “* Mop” in hand. Plaintive Song for a Sporting M.P. I mate to remember The Fourth of November : Gunpowder ?—Yes, |’ ve a lot. I see no ea the season, And leaving the pheasants unshot. Prench Christmas. Tae French have at length actually deified Lovis Naro.eow. Th which they have conferred on him is, “Je Messie du 9 : 2° We suppose that henceforth our “ versatile neighbours” will observe the second of December instead of the twenty-lifth. RAILWAY BAILLERY, atrocious Chairman of a Railway Board, in reference to the of nisnemppnerbcoriont, Mnout cat ‘ 4 ic may take th pagans meas please ; mean quietl own. Senusda bee like teat, weal'eieo tiek 0 oa isi “The Empire is Peace.” been kindly informed the future Emperor of France, i is Pesce.” pn Perey pg ny! ne vis Navo.eon’s word for it. We must say, wi magisterial, that we doubt_so small a surety for — inking vs : d that cit mentee of the diocese, Vor if the pasture is anything like the ink hard at auricular confession. | etter of the word. Mn. Disrawti and his | '

| |

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192 _PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARTVARI | ‘THE FUTURE RULERS OF FRANCE, ; | (In Anticipation of History.) | ih 1854.—Emperor SevLovuque arrives in Paris, and | is crowned Empenon NaPoLeow 1855.—Vtrow is elevated to the throne under the title of Empereur de tous les 1856.—He is succeeded by Taanpix, “ Premier Consul des Gobemouches.”’ 1857.—GeweraL Cavaicwac, who is too good to reign | nger than a month. 1858.— Gewevars CoanGaRnrer, Lamoniciéae, aud CaporaL Patorot—a military triumvirate, 1859.—Prouvnon, as Premier Magistrat de I Intelii- gence du Monde F 1860.—MapemorseLte Racuen as Déesse de la Aberté, 1861.—Paut pe Kock , Grand Ministre de | Instruc- tion Publique, &e., &e. 1862.—GomeznsaL, le meilleur Réprésentant de 0 Em- pereur 1863 ) 1864 > —Any one that can be got. 1965 § The remainder of the anticipations are, AS was always raid of the French Telegraph, “ [nterrompu par le broutllard.” But we think it is a prodigious effort of | foresight to have seen even so far and so clearly as the | above into the future of French History. There are |many bold Loomers-ir -the-Distance who would be | afraid to prophesy what would be likely to occur in France during the next two years. Now, our antici- | pations have carried us safely over a period of fifteen vat dat * THE LATEST DODGE—FROM BETTING OFFICE TO Ton tee chek oak angen es eateee 6 | COMMISSION OFFICE. \is a State of Perpetual Revolutions ! | A N EW P ATTERN F¢ R MANCHESTER should express the truth—that the illustrations should be copied from Nature—taken, faithfully, from blooming life. It would not do for those who stood for the portraits to have been squalid, pallid, sickly, wretched-look:ng objects. For then the wearer of the costume so orna- mented would go about oT in irony ; literally clothed with satire as with a garment: would be a promenading saicasm, and a waltzing qu’z. Now, unfortunately, under 9 —~— | the novelty ie we have been proposing cannot be produced, Veracity forbids the introduction of the article. Nor, whilst girls of tender age are pent up, | by thousands, from twelve to twenty ae per day, —eo in gestion to make Bde | — +" — acid, will it be possible, truly and honestly, to manu- acture the 8 co oS ee | Having a sharp eye to business, therefore, we are glad to see that ye ‘ of ‘the Du cz | 22 Association has been formed at Manchester for the Improvement of : > ioe as the Condition of Dressmakers and Milliners; a meeting of w Y have ob-| Society took place the other evening in Cooper Street at the | Mechanics’ a ee [ustitution : its object being to induce the community to “ discounte- | t | E are sorry that we were prevented, by political | engagements of the high- | est importaice to our| native land and every | other, from assisting at | the late meeting of the | Sheffield School of De-| sign; for we had a sug é served that certain rapid | nance late sho la'e working, and £, the transaction of (late) business cop Seat wang Pom on Saturdays. ai is very probable that employers and principals ted with the fieures of | ° establishments may bave conscience and humanity make bailet girls—as if to sig- | 2°me —_—_ = = ee among themselves to ag ak -_ . we may they will receive every encouragemen sealants heawte | who—all compassion, sympath oan sisterly affection—want only the — The pattern might be least considerate thought to ord it strenuously. | diversified with cigars RY. . von rend sages are net to remind the no Sess that the silks whic they esteem such endid raiment, are and goes of brandy; since | « the bowels of a poor worm;” unpleasant ae whieh the fair ee = yell mae, friends take sex wisely disre Never mind the interior of silkworms—but the fe milliner’s thorax - ‘another matter: aud it may be proper, if not stion for the School a agreeable, to advertise those whom it may concern that they are very aie Gp eae likely clad in the product of consumptive human vitals—an infectious , clothing, moreover, some doctors think, There may be sympathy recommend to the notice of that institution is a|°?0us® %° catch disease where there is not enough to commiserate suffering: and caution, if not kindness, may Tec gong = yo style of oat palace re ard the lee dear des, 80 | | of improving the condition of dress-makers: w proved, our new aun ‘& FE gees tenn te the indent | dress of the mantua-maker pattern will be possible, But should this | may youre indies A Be A mare a oy Sanat eiunadl att simataree | commercial design fail, it will still be if oe of the | of the — “go prints are pretty; yet variety is charm. | Manchester Association simply shall succeed ; cy ~ early | ing: and there are flowers of the garret that would look prettier than | | closing of dress-making business abate & general y of } flowers of the nosegay: under the healthy conditions of sun and | | dress-making existence. | air necessary to bring out their colour. A dress figured with forms of | ee such flowers—to wit, nice-looking little a be really | very charming—deserve most emphatically to be called a love and a| A Burst or TaLent !—A Yankee, being asked to describe his wife, duck. | said, “ Why, Sir, she'd make a regular fast, go a-head steamer, my But it would be quite necessary that this embellishment of vesture | wife would—she bas such a wonderful talent for blowing up.

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| cellors and all lost sight of = PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. THE PRINTING PRESS IN CHANCERY ! Tue Printing Press in Chaneery! Don’t be afraid—not as a client, but as a eonqneror. Oh Suepzx—Svepzw! You wrote a book “on Powers,” but little did you think you would ever have the Power you exercised last term or order, to eut down pleadings to reasonable | and oust the time-hallowed machinery of brief sheets, law- , broad margins, copying copies, and the rest of that awful and costly machinery of word-spinning, by the introduction of printed bills and claims, drawn in forms no longer than are necessary, and in a intelligible to clients as well as conveyancers and councillors. the mighty services the Printing Press was ever ordered on, this is surely among the mightiest. Itjhas' marched into Courts, and absolutism has retired before it : into Cabinets, and diplomacy has shrunk into ee : into and opinion has greater Ministers. _ But hitherto Chancery was barred against it—Mystification, Procras- timation, Amplification, plication, and Obscuration still sat t Lr dae Dens of wy eA epee es = after folio round a case, i years , an up fecte in skins of parchment, till clients, sunvegumpets connate tee “em, and had to spend years in lmnting out spent years in hiding away. — And D sanctuary of verbiage and chicane comes the Printing Press, introduced by Fowaxp Bui Tensnaw Svcpey, Loxp Sr. Lzowanvs—let his name be given at full length—and so surely as that conquering machine has penetrated bere, so surely will cheapness, simplicity, follow in its train. what they had Fresh Symptoms of the New-mania. Dz. Newmax, in ecstacies over the subscriptions that have been sent over to him from France to defray the, expenses of the AcHILLI trial says most meekly : “T am surprised at seeing myself the object of such sympathies, and I think I may, without presumption, believe that the glorious 8t. Denis, who ’ over my reee ption into the bosom of Catholicism, has, as it were, presented me a second timeto the embraces of the Church by recommending me to the tender charity of the great nation of which he is the apestie.” Most sweet embraces that are accompanied with a douceur of £1,000! e are sure it is most kind of St. Denis to take such affectionate care of his disciples, but we want to know why he didn’t show this kindness in the first instance? Why didn’t he win the trial for Da. Newman? [t strikes us it would have been a much simpler and cheaper plan— instead of losing the trial, and paying the expenses of it afterwards ! YREEDOM’S LAST HOME IN PARIS. “ Whitber bas liberty in Paris fled?” Cries Dicx.—* You’!! find her at the Morgue,” says Nev. Ne’er did you so’ Mueh PHE CONVICTS OF FLORENCE. (PRANCISCO AND ROSA MADIAI CONVICTED OF RELIGIOUS CONVICTION.) Tp ths Ueeder ue "ve talbiomeeian of Pi eee eet ahem renee paulo, aan Wa tastlty eakiteee siete cal. i at — precious & wrong in As dooming the Protestant husband and wife. le fo yews heey tates nib she uses the And who but-a bigot or fool would gi To the truculant beadicdou topy’diby your Pors. in their d What, snug ashoned aro pour Daasces oad Bown?” Bunce eammdpoth tiivery: Be that as it may, Tuscan Flunkey of Rome, thanks for the of her slave—a Gaawp Duke! Your Chureh—all so #0 meek, so benign, As we’re brazenly shavemdivine. lesson you ve taught us at home, To stand fon aa ieligtous quality’: Ponds. into the Im all the Tartars. In the afternoon His Majes' | audience to a French artist, now they are inserted with loving subjects that the mi body, and that, in Hong-Kong Paper.4 His Maszsry, after breakfast, manufactured s _Llperial Gardens co “et shown tLe reocks, wus 00 nto ot tho eplioesscl the b Such are the particulars of the “ Chinese Court Circular.” stances 80 trivial used formerly to be rarely found in the Jazelle, beholders. His Maj afterwards relaxed his mind coach-and-horses wi Minsters. At one o'clock His { : af els i ! i i : | i i ¢ 2 & £ ] E sf Cireum- g minuteness to prove to His Majesty’s of TWAN-KAY is no less vigorous than aculties.— ite of rumours to the eoatrary, their august and beloved monarch still retains possersion of all his From a | |

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| 194 | PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL er -sereeraren GHORT AND MERRY REGIMES! “ Veve v’ Eureneve!” is i ; The other day ’twas “ Vive la Be _ we Live this, that and the other—when to die ? Live—haply somewhat longer than a week— But scarce, in Moslem _— Live—until Fate leate i ap er es, J HL Gr ie Perhaps ‘ere bloom can | Line pestbty the teen taoee, Live cut s be of wnctiery Ulan Wess qetipted phner-omes pie eien mad fy, Says to the newly-transformed ebrysalis. Indispensable Articles for Emigration Which a Fine Lady should take out with her. A Goop supply of scented soap and eau de me; Six dezen pair silk stockings; several boxes of French gloves ; half-a-dozen bottles of the fluid for cleaning the same ; = of the Ladies’ blacking; a good stock of veils rasols, as the heat of the sun is very trying to the complexion in Australia; two dozen bottles | of Rowtanp’s Kalydor, for the same reason; a few | Parisian corsets ; an ARNoT?T’s stove and ventilator ; Upr’s Cookery Book; several copies of the Book of Etiquette; a baby-jumper ; a French lady’s maid; and, above a/l thi a grand piano, as nothing charms away the solitude of the back-woods so much as a little music. CA wi sasdstilllll he htt?) a « % 4 77, WA Wild LILAS Paty la Pashionable Arrival (as Expected). Asp-21-Kaper from the Chateau d’Amboise on his way to Broussa, at the mansion of the Marquis or Lonpon- ~~ perkr. ‘The noble Arab is said to be the bearer of Enter Small Swell (who dranols as follows). 4 A—Bwown, a—want some more Coats!” affectionate let'er from the Prince President to the | Snip. “ Yes, Sie. Taanx you, Sin. How many woutp you PLease To want!” chavaleete Mangas. — no Small Swell. “ A—.et we sem; A'tL Have BiGut. A—no, |’LL BaVE NINE ; AND Don’t Ruw ror Gotp.—There to be some & Loon mans! A—quabt WAN? some TROWsERS.” i for the crops in Anstealia, The hen a be a severe one Snip. “ Yus, Sim. Tank you, Sin. How many woutp rou Like! to the Colonists, who have neglected the cultivation of the | Small Swell: “A—I pon’? Know ExacTLY. ’Spose we say Twenry-rour pairs ;| soil through the’ wap pe of and who may be ir gold, AND LOOK HERE! SHOW ME SOME PATTERNS THAT WON'T BE WORN BY any Syons!” | doomed to find the folly of relying on a golden harvest. that The Celt is of that persevering indomitable nature, WHAT THE CELT DOES, AND WHAT THE _ | gifteaity" ‘aids way ‘he pais bis shoulder instant s zt ; ‘ moves it—but the poor weak Saxon is disheartened by the smallest SAXON DOES. pom and, at the first impediment that checks him, sits down by the (As seen with the eyes of an Irishman.) roadside, an crying that no one will hel p him. i Lastly, the Celt is the bone and muscle, the arms and and head Tus Celt a hie dettow anne conn. Sethian tomy mans but the | of the country, that makes all its labour, wealth, Saxo cannot stir from home without having a sheriff's officer at his | and the Saxon is the mouth and stomach of the country that consumes } heels, _ |as much as you will give to it, and im return produces nothing but The Celt pays his rent to the very day; but the dastardly Saxon is poverty and discontent. always in arrear if he discharges his rent at all, it is by means of England owes everything to the Celt—but the Saxon owes every- a sun, which he fires at his landiord from behind a hedge, more shame thing to England, and, what is more, is never likely to pay a farthing of it The Celt fs aiveys indastrions but you will find the lazy Saxon, at| - ane intnat 4 any hour of the against a post, with his hands in his Poor Li a that there i thing in them to feel), and a short pipe i , ving. ° is aes the wre ibe of inpedepen a Releened Par THe Mayor of St. Cloud begins an address to Louis Napoteon with The Celt has generally a decent coat on his back ; but the blackguard | the following startling fact in the annals of national starvation : Senta emtge appears like a scarecrow that had just walked out ofa! “Prince,—France has lived on one single idea during the last month.” corn-heid. ; . Bg . abov i account, the present weakness of | The Celt is most cleanly in his habits, and prefers living without mt wh apeerady be cnn it vosatbly hold its head up amongst animals in the room—but go into the house of the dirty Saxon, and | the nations of Europe, when it caly gets one idea a ? How- | you will find it to consist of one filthy room, into which the children, and | ever, there may be a motive in keeping ite strength down. France has the pigs, and the cow, and the good lady, and the poultry, aud the old | not stronger food given to it, as the object, doubtlessly, is to keep the | man, and the donkey are all crammed, without any regard to order and country as low as possible im order to prevent its rising. val the haat fechas ben eumatng pt by fro mee. de een 9 | ut the improv xon sev ing he (though it’s not many of them he gets) at the whisky- Lord Deshy ond the Lepd Mayor. : The Celt loves quiet, and rarely moves from his fireside, where he} Ir i been pondered im the City whether or no—pending prepara- minds the kettle, or rocks the cradle, or helps the good Missus in tions for the Duke’s fumeral—there should be a Loap Maron’s dinner. up the tay-things,—but if there ’s a row, go into it by all means, and @| The Bani or Deape was consulted on the matter. As the spick- there are ten men with broken heads, you may be sure that nine new Cuance.ior or Oxrorp, he has advised the City no them are Saxons, and the tenth one isa poor Celt’s that has And why ? If Oxford has been in such haste for her University broken by them—the mean blackguards ! why should London postpome her Guildhal! dinner ? Ceres new Sloe m Lombard Strvetsin tha Precinct of WWathare tm the Ony of Lanso-- sad Fubtahed oy ‘eam we ee Pies Scent." che Pan sf Oe Bride's the Ghey af Landon ~Garwnnan, Govonen oc, Mt

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| De 195 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. but we fear that it, also, left many of the rational, | jous observations of the THE SABBATARIANS AT SION COLLEGE. E see that the Morn- ing Post reports a “Great Meeting of the Clergy” which took place on Tours- day, last week, at Sion College “To consider in what manner the clergy may best ex] their opivion upon encourag-ment whieh will be given to in- | creased desecration of the | Sabbath, if the Crystal | Palace, now erecting at. 8) denham, shall be opened as a place of public recrea- tion on the Lord’s Day.” “The VENERABLE Arcupgacon Hate resided,” says our ‘ashionable contempo- rary, and pro- ceeds to tell us what | the Archdeacon, and sundry of his reverend brethren said. But we are afraid that the Morning Post abridged the discourses of these divines shame‘ully—omitted, for example, to publish certain remarks by AncuDeacon Hare: which we supply by conjecture. he Venerable Archdeacon said that it had been asserted that Sunday was the only day which afforded the working man leisure for recreation. That might be; but was | recreation necessary for the working man? He contended that it was not absolutely He never did himself, nor caused to be done by others, any work on the Sunday that was not strictly necessary. If he allowed himself any enjoyment he could possibly do without, he should consider himself a gross hypocrite to want to close the Crystal Palace to the labouring classes on that day. Port wine was not a necessary of life. He on no account ever drew, or allowed his butler to draw a cork on Sunday, except for the purpose of sending a glass of wine to the sick poor. He need not say that he dined off cold meat on the Sabbath, invariably; and never ate vegetables because they required cooking, but con- tented himself with bread and pickles. He might add that he always made a point of shaving himself at half-past eleven on Saturday night, that he might be innocent of a super- flaous use of the razor on Sunday morning. = speech of a Rev. Mz. Snort, as given by the Pos/, contains a profound query, namely :— “What kind of Sabbath would it be which was spent at church in the morning, and in amusement in the | rest of the day?” But the Post does not tell us how the Rev. Ma. Suort proceeded to answer his own | question, which we imagine he did somewhat after the manner following :— The Rev. Gentleman continued—It would be a very different Sabbath from that which the | labouring classes spent now. It would be passed in drinking—that is, in drinking with the eyes: which was just as bad as swilling beer and gin. They all knew how mechanics artisans generally spent Sunday at present. It was in holy meditation. The mind would act when the ds were unemployed. Different journeymen and workpeople pondered on | different things. One sat endeavouring to form ideas of celestial beatitude. Another examined his conscience—Bible in hand—a!l day. Another lost himself in admiring the wonderful consistency of the preachers of humility and self-denial with their practice; and in marvelling at the spiritual riches of the Bishops and superior clergy. That was the occupation of many, | who, to the superficial observer, appeared to be sitting at their windows in their shirt-sleeves with a pire, a pot of beer, and a profane newspaper. We find the celebrated and Rev. Dr. Croty represented as saying— “ The Crystal Palace Company wanted to compromise matters by only opening the building after one o'clock, and by selling no spirituous liquors. The consequence would be, the morning congregations at church would | rush from there to the railway station to get tickets for the Crystal Palace.” ag Sg Croty explained this seemingly strange logic. It must be supposed that The Rev. Dr. Croty proceeded to say that in the inference he bad just drawn he might | not appear to have been consequential. He had indeed, a small opinion of his own con- | sequence: indeed, this humility it was which led him to that very conclusion he had drawn. | It did appear absurd to suppose that people who went to church—of course to be + — their | duty there—would be apt to rush thence to the railway station. But, alas! he despaired | of his power to persuade them not todo so. He felt that it required abilities greater than his own to prove that the Christian Sunday was the Jewish Sabbath. Legislative coercion, therefore, must supply the deficiency of clerical rhetoric. It is quite true that the meeting, as the Morning Post states, resolved, that it viewed the proposed opening of the Crystal Palace “with horror and alarm;” but the Morning Post does not add, as no doubt it might have done, that these clergymen equally voted their | | alarm and horror at the idea of all Sunday enjoyment in the Palace of a Bishop. Since writing the above, we have seen the 7imes report of the same meeting, which is flattering to our ers of clairvoyance, though it shows that in exercising them, we made, | a8 seers usually do, a slight mistake. We aseribed the remark that recreation was unnecessary | for labouring men to ARcHDEACON Hatz. This enlightened position, it seems, is the property | | of Dr. Croty: who, the 7imes tells us, spake on this wise—according to his wisdom : = j sensible, and truly religiou various speakers, unrecorded. ‘ hich iisclosen, ness,” which it di yet more ; as the sight of another convolution or two of the sea-serpent might suggest no end of his tail. We perceive that, in contrast with his appalling picture of the people rushing out of church at one o’clock to the Sydenham train, rushing for tickets, rushing for seats, rushing to ihe Ex- hibition, “there” wickedly, “to spend the next three or four hours ” with an immense multitude, dressed in ing, and , and chatting in the fullest The additional “In mi their best, excitement of everyday life; among groups of statues, and | and curious works of art, and fine | ries of pictures, lountains, and showy architecture ;—" We perceive, we say, that The Rev. Dr. Croty eloquently described ‘the ious spectacle now presented rom Sane in Hyde Park, thronged as it was by k and ges splendid’ their - ag | — in ti id equipages, wherein they exhi- bited themselves in honour of the day; whilst devoting their thoughts to eternity, y their side, and loungers, edified by d contemplated them leaning over Some other resolutions, it is also evident to passed in addition to those wherein the meeting r of the to the public ex eir precedent of the enli Crystal Palace” would “be urged as a reason for ing museums, and libraries, and gal- at the Crystal Palace ; prebension that “the polis.” The reverend without question—also “That no attention but such as ma rised by the clergy of the Archdeaco and sapient assembly — baa of of Croxy’s “linked sweet- | objected “to the intellectual cha- | pursuits ” which they feared would | tened pursuits of the | opening leries of art in other places than the Metro- | be autho. | Middlesex ought to be paid to the example of | any Person or Persons related to have walked | in the fields, and to have gathered, or suffered | to be gathered, corn on the Sabbath Day. " the Sabbath was wor made for man, but — man for the Sabbath. “That it shall be the endeavour of this meet- to get all streets containing public buildings any architectural pretensions, or any sculpture (of a secular nature), closed on Sundays. a contract should be entered into by it] That the Commissioners of Sewers with the proper parties, to make such arrangements with respect to drainage as may every Sunday throughout the year.” It must also be added, that to the vote of thanks to the Venerable Chairman was added a vote of admiration for the miraculous ability with which he fills all his preferments at once, The (Dancing) Master of France. Certainty the patron saint of Lovis Napo- | must have been St. Vitus, | Leon’s late progress for in almost every town he stopped at the cere- monies of his jon ended with a dance, In fact his “progress” was a series of hops, | and the chief steps taken to ensure its success were those of the polka, Evidently His Hi wis to “ dance into good favour,” that he had the ball completely at his foot. The New Financial Measure. Arrer all the talk, we imagive the only adorned with | | secure a London fog for | op, or quadrille. | to show his faithful subjects | | | “I shall be told that the humbler orders, and those who are confined to trade all the week, require amusement | financial measure Drsnagii will bring forward | refresh them. I cannot accede to this; the proper refreshment is rest, according to the original command.” | wili be the famous Quart Bottle into which he The Times is more copious than our other contemporary in its account of the Sion oratory, | has promised to get as soon as Parliament opens. — VOL, XXIII.

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196 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. THE VISION OF ST. PATRICK HIS PURGATORY. 3ntam Bonoo, a repentant Agitator, to the Blessed Poson, the dweller by the ancient Well of Saint Bridget, sendeth greeting :— N my eyes, with tear-drops streaming, still the golden gates are gleaming; still the crystal columns: beaming, bright | and clear, before me lie ; Still fair maidens, each the bearer of a golden harp, far rarer than the ancient harp of Tara, make a wondrous Was it sooth? or, was it seeming ? Did I wake? or, was I | dreaming? Did a braim, with fancies teeming, raise the Vision to mine eye, Which, in Parricx’s Purgatory, shewed me: all the and sory that, im opie of Whig or Tory, shall be Erin’s—Bye Many a year, in factions trading, quiet, ag) men upbraiding, oo as and pen still aiding, I had paseid my public life, Leagued with every fresh imposter; who, no matter what it cost her, would nave forced our land, and lost her, im seme foul rebellious strife ; Bat, with riper age, refleetion brought to faithful recollection — that would not bear inspection by a rightly judging ind, And I “said “For many a season I have utter’d grievons treason ‘gainst all common sense and reason; what atonement may I find ? I will take my staff, and travel shoeless over flint and gravel to Derg, "and seek the cave all lonely on its sacred isle, Where, if a be due to story, is Sarst Pataick’s Pu is t 7 did so— jn the w wantiinenh eary ; and as I, depress’ , to its gloomy mouth drew near, I felt my eourage ee Of the echoes round me flying, some were swearing, some were lying ; — in cuckoo tones kept erying in my ear, “ Re- e! ” Seemed that some, a tocsin , made to Gavaw Durry’s singing fitting music; some t flinging taunts they ’d borrow’d from M‘Hate; Bits of Suita O’Brren’s speeches, scraps of all that Lucas teaches, CaniL. writes, or CULLEN preaches, rose and sank upon the gale. Nightshade in the garden glowing said, “ The Rose might here be blowing, if I left her room to grow in.” Fruit-trees tottered to their fall, e | found—the wasps had kili’d them ail. O’er the ine doorway graven Industry lay bound, and craven Idleness, unwashed, unshaven, kept her prostrate on the ground; and squandered treasure fast on wassail, horse and hound : Poverty, by Superstition blinded, followed where Ambition led her swiftly to Sedition; Fraud and Falsehood hovered round ; om Murder im a corner slinkimg, from the glare of daylight shrinking, with a sullen scowl sat thinking where its victim might be found. Through the gloomy portal paeing, soom as I had stepp’d the place in, elders twain, severe of face, m chairs on erther side | saw; Seem’d, when I came near to view ’em, by their "crooks full well I knew ’em; they were Dustin hight, and Tuam, and they said, “ We foes of law— here who enters must abide our dread behest.” ie All their vate sapp’d by ivy; here and there an empty hive I saw, but not a bee | While, in worse than useless leisure, Lavish Waste and Sinful Pleasure ruined health | We, of endless feuds th’ inventors, here are chosen chief tormentors: every mortal — . Then, “Ob, Reverend Biders !” said I, “’Gainst your torments [ am steady; you | shall find me firm and ready for them all, so, do your best !”” * Quick!” said Tuam. “Let them take him io the Hall of Tongues, and make him hear such logic as shal! shake him, if he never shook before.” | Then they made me take my seat in presence of a Monster Meeting where ove speaker kept repeating some oft-quoted lines by Moore, Till another, quite delighted, vowed if Erin were not righted by the House on sueh a night, he ’d die—or perish—on the floor. Anda thind ent, * ‘Isaac NewrTow was a pig-faced, ewe-neck’d brute, om whom no faith should e’er take root; om whom no student e’er shou And all those ha heaven-forsaken, study Gattte0, Bacon, Locks, or Henscwen, will be shaken sorely by such godless lore, Yes, my friends, our utter ruim England, with her schools pursuing, teaches us for our undoing! Ignorant by right of birth Ye should hug each false opinion ; Knowledge strikes at our dominion; up! and tell each Saxon minion that the sun oes, round the earth.” Presently, ’gainst me to shoot all wordy missiles seem’d to suit all; | was “bloody, base, and brutal,” “rascal! scoundrel! misereant! rogue !” ** Bigot ! ae despot!” “ on!” jiar!”—doom’d to everlasting fire, if I would not shout the cry or catchword that was —_ in vogue. But Said all the Tabaliee ethic bray, bleat, bellow, yelp, hiss, gabble, steadily I faced the rabble rout with firm, unfli Though its drum was well nigh broken. Said I, “Guilt must be ywroken ; follies, such as | have spoken, ’tis but fair that I should hear.” = Tu aM, “Let them take him, and a Connaught landlord make him ; then his troubles soon will shake him till for mercy he shall roar.’ While I thought about replying, lo! [ found I had been buying land all rownd about me lying—bog, and mountain, marsh, and moor; Fences broken ; drains negiected; rents long due to be collected; tenants ripe to be ejected. “Sure! ‘twas always so before ! ”” Said a tenant, when, on going to his cot, the wind was blowing through the roof the rain and snow into a puddle on the floor, Ww henee a dog, pig, cow, and chicken, pecking, browsing, routing, licking, severally their way were ae to the dunghill at the door. ‘Sure! Sir, it was so before,” he said; and still the self-same story met me, day by day, the more | had oecasion to deplore ; And this odd determination to remain in dirt, starvation, ignoranee, and degradation, and each project to ignore | Which could furnish oeeupation, solace, or alleviation to their suffering, starving nation, vexed me to tae Very core.

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL ‘Said J, “ Vainly I expect them to improve; I must correct them, | tn summons, sue, Eetrain, eject them, sinee they'll neither work | HOODED SNAKES. nor pay, ‘ And coal mites live in sorrow, whine and bully, beg and borrow,| _ TH® poison of the cobra—or hooded snake—has been learnedly than take counsel for the morrow ;” and I did so. From that day, discussed, since the death of the poor rash man bitten in the Park. It | In my rambles many scowling faces of fellows prowling near me, ‘+ patent, we believe, to’all men that there is no poison so virulent as with their rusty fowliag-piecer, g with savage eye, that secreted under a hood: the hooded snake of all snakes being the | Threatening letters sternly me for a felon all would hold me, and most deadly, Neither can it be tamed or trusted. It is well known had in their list enrolled me soon a bloody death to die ; that the jugglers who feign to charm the reptiles with hoods—who But I said, unmo uncaring, “ Of your efforts be not sparing! ’Tis boast @ powerover them—allowing them to play about their beads and but fair that I am sharing woes I oft have caused before.” wind inte their bosoms—have first extracted the poison-sac from the said Tuam, “ Let them take him, and a recreant voter make cobra’s mouth; or, if they have not removed the venom-bag, they have hin; pelestiy os then shall shake him, till our grace he suffered the snakes so to exhaust themselves by having irritated them shall’ implore [" \to bite lower objects, that the poison is exhausted : time being neces. _ Swift ! a storm of commination fierce, and rabid execration, threatening for anew secretion. Any way, however, unless the sac be plucked _ | excommunication, rose upon the murky air lean out, it is a very, very ticklish matter to play with, or place any | Faruer Burke cried, “ Were —_ *mid my flock, oe —_ a e —_ i treated | houl Various ¢ men who have grasped, anc a _ ign edebtiinnee sly ‘fingers the aded soaks that twisted twined, | Farwer Rovnxe yelled, “ Were you lying on your —— pallet, | ———- .- — ae in the =. ing ; , t , Atheist, 7’ t be aRgtTin LuTHEe me d ing ; for e priest’s last succour erying, Atheis no te i ite > nied ee i Fatuzr Toore shrieked, “ Were you sleeping on your bier, and all 1 a grip; uever did it ex so muc your weeping friends came to the churcbyard creeping, hallowed of its venom with so little mischief. Shortly after, one Hannay | grave you should not share |” hand: and Kuizanera his Faruer Brace howled, “If before ye ad ye —7 sme e , calmly as Billingsgate " : t! ul . a Ad rine ema “ a _ day, comes forth Jouw Buicur. [He proposes to ’Twas the jast shot in their quiver. Through my veins there ran a suake quite harmless by petting it wit pretty words. shiver, for before me flowed a river—black and turbid was its of to it, as the Indians pipe and play the drum to wave ; ce. Joum ain eke leben me = x And I hurried towards it sadly, thinking as | went, ‘‘ How gladly, from | lreland—would, im the simplicity is heart, tie these foes who how! a in it shall [ find a grave.” ‘ knot with the hooded snake ; but Joun Baicur, “Yoicks!” eried Tuam, “ Forward, Grapy! Hark on, Munrmr! To heed—remember the poison bags. Nevertheless, it may be him, Brapy! So ho, Daty! Seize him, Tuapy! eer the to one of the Friends to make for ever harmless the hooded wretch himself shall save.” . Ma. Basco Owen, writing from Wales, tells how in the | But I cared not for their screaming, for the golden gates were gleaming, Deccan, where he lived once upon a day, the cobra is made innocuous : and the crystal columns beaming bright and clear before mine

“ These people have a simple method of removing the venomous fangs of this reptile, eye, thrill d feel; ee eaiinend oaiie -- ae ay ee and Pm = socked | And across the water stealing, , ing every sense an eeling, came a ap + he en ee ae samme Ume Sharply withdrawing cloul, by the glad triumphant pealing of a glorious melody; _ ee On the other bank appearing each departed friend of lrin shouted Has Mr. Buicat heard of this remedy? Will he try As cloth; and ut in, never fearing! Glorious visions wait thee here! — will the innocent Dm. Camu, not in anger but in good faith, bite at Patriot zeal and brave endeavour shall not wholly fail for ever, Hrin’s Quaker’s drab? mental bonds to sever, Erin's drooping sons to cheer.” So I plunged, and lo! —— ighing : of the night went oa a lying near the portal : me flying, mocking echoes seemed to cry— 7 , , When I asked in desperation, ‘‘ Are there hopes of restoration for my A WORD WITH THE MONITEUR. poor degraded nation ?”—* Yes, there may be—Bye and Bye.” Twat very impartial print, the Mon/eur, in describing the enthusiasm with which ', “ the Presipent was lately TRUTH IN FICTION. 4 ; i! greeted at Grenoble, adds At Romsey—commonly called Romsey-on-the-Mad—there is a) . WZ ch! vt ae rey <= tat at Young Man’s Improvement Association ; and, says a correspondent of | " ( v4 d the Hampshire Independent é 2 ‘ “ One thing particularly strikes ‘ the inhabitants amidet (hat enthu “ A lecture in connection with the Society was given in our Town Hall on Tuesday ; ‘ siasm ; it is the contrast between evening, by the Reverexp Mr. Bucey of Winchester, on ‘The Literature of Fiction y , : \ the general emotion and the caim- The subject was very ably treated, the design of the lecturer being to show that there a , ; Pry ness preserved by the Chief of the might be much amusement in works of that character (hbarmiess in themselves), but y , } Y ‘% , State, even when his heart is moat not much sterling information,” ‘ keenly affeeted by the testimonies | - of love of which he is the object. No? Not much sterling information im Msop! s Fables ? not in ‘ j His usual serenity, bh A. , in Rotwnson Crusoe 7 Not in Suaxsreane’? Not in—nay, where are we to! f ey 46 if then tinged with an air of benevo- | stop? for who shallsay that a parable is not an imaginary narration ; | a ae a case put: not necessarily the statement of positive fact, though eon-| © / mt ey . j P veying essential truth, and of course, “sterling information.” Ohb,| “ K 3% ; Charming = man No ob, Mz. Bucur! i wonder France adores him. Wy But, Monleur,a word with | To the Editor of Notes and Queries. ahr 4 “812,—Will you be plessed to inform the Members of our Reading | “™\I0iRDWAliltinemsniai | C the : ( : . : Pp how did you discover — oF ang ra 4° Mr + yr, the miracle monger, that his ; was “allected” 20 « keonk me Did his 8 ond a distant relation of the late Miss Joanna Sourucors, who was ~~ himealf. ink of the fact? Or haw formerly in the same line of business ? — Y 7 he phyolsion? y Well — anda oo “ Yours, in a state of wonder, be sometimes found in stones: but we little dreamt of ever flading that “Ilowarrus Gulirene Botum.” | Louis Naroueom had an affection of the heart |! HOLDING BY A BAD TITLE. 2 —_ = =~ It bas been suggested by a worn-out wag, who gives his mornings : 4 Postectionts _ - to conundrums and his nights to puns, that Louis Naroveon, instead Lr is rather remarkable that the party whieh used to be so obstinately of being called Bowz-a-rant, should have conferred upon him the title of attached to existing institutions, should have evinced a desire to GuAB-THR-WHOLB. eS ee no less strange than true that i Protectionist Government has made an attempt to insure ite life Tue Gaeat Putren-poww or Faswcu Revonvrrows.—Macapam. / by the surrender of its policy.

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SMM I ae es ss as pat wy etal seeker 2 VSN Rh eh a TEM ODO Se EaR PBI GPa edn arte ralinyin seem’: Sea! cof 198 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. A WATERING-PLACE YARN. Youths, ‘Imex I suppose when you were a smuggler you used to have reg’lar combats panes would then supersede dark sufferings. At and fights ? Boatman, Com-bats and Fights! Lor love yer, we wos a’most always at it. Once in| management of the Hospital should be looked partickler I cail to mind. There wos me and Bit Boxer (Biack Biv we had used to into. call him) and four more had just run a cargo—(middle of the night it wos, and so uncommon dark you coulda’t see an inch afore yer)—bad just run a cargo of ’Ollands and pocket hand- kerchers—when we see about a hundred yards from where we wos—a comin’ down the clift— | the Coast Guard! Well! without saying a word, blowed if they didn’t right at us. We fired agin—and—dear eyes! p’raps the bullets warn’t flying about neither! | his Presidential Highness lately was Progressing, It wos desprit wurk—we wos fightin ’most all night! Youths. Lor! and which won ? Boatman. Oh—we won. But we was wounded awful! Brit Boxer was shot in the , y } leg and in the harm—so wos Jim JawLey—and | had three balls through my head and two Now this, we think, was rather a doubtful com- in the stummuck (wich I feel em now sometimes in the winter [ do), besides bein’ runthrough pliment. For, looking retrospectively at the THE SERIOUS CHRISTMAS PANTOMIMES. We understand that extra caution will be taken that, next Christmas, there shall be no political allusions whatever in the Christmas pantomimes. | Harlequin is to be very didactic in his rollypolies —the Clown is to give his flip-flaps with a high moral object—and the Pantaloon to hobble and totter with the profoundest respect for the present Ministry. The Cabinet have been very tyrannous in the matter, determining, it is said, to keep all | the tricks to themselves. At the ial ri it; of Lornp Matmessury, all the MSS. of the pantomimes have been sent to the French Ambassador, that he may have the fullest assurance that Louis Napo.eon is treated with that veneration which is due to his virtues, Ma. Newson Les, the great pantomime-monger, has, for these two months, been under the surveil- lance of the police. And yet, with all this apparent care for the stage, there are grumblers ohe talk about the decline of the British Drama! ——— | The Old English Madhouse. Dentistry, according to the Daily News, isa portion of the practice at Bethlehem Hospital : dentistry after a fashion; in which the un- offending tooth is removed from the offending er by a blow of the infuriated keeper’s fist. hrottling, beating, and kicking, we learn from the same authority, are also frequently practised in this Institution, not by patients who have broken loose upon their keepers, but by keepers who break loose upon their patients. Bethlehem Hospital ought to be reconstructed; rebuilt of glass; made a Crystal Madhouse: transparent any rate, common humanity demands that the Rather Equivocal. up pieces and let fly| At one of the favoured places through which there was a triumphal arch erected in his honour, inscribed conspicuously— “70 THE SAVIOUR OF THE WIDOWS.” with a cutlass, and all my front teeth knocked out by the Perwentive man’s telescope, wich Second of December last, it may reasonably be luckily shut up or there’s no knowin’ wot might ’a bin the consequence. Ah! There wos questioned if the widows were not, some of them, goins on then. But lor, it aint nothin’ like it now! Youths are deeply impressed. | of bis own making. JUST AS WE EXPECTED. It has turned out.jnst as we expected. The man in custody for the Infernal Machine of Marseilles is not the author of it. His motive for the imposition cannot be ascertained. We think, however, we can| guess pretty nearly what it was. It was to allow the Infernal Machine | quietly to explode, without hurting anybody. Of course he will be | liberated with a slight punishment, and there will be an end to the ridi- | culous affair. We are told that the police are in active pursuit of the real delinquent. We doubt strongly, however, if they will succeed in catching him, unless their activity should direct their steps to the central police-office in Paris, for there, without a doubt was this tremen- dous mare’s nest hatched, giving birth to the most miserable canard that ever flapped its wings for a few days in the French press. But, as it is evidently not the desire of the police to seize the real GarLiagp in | ¢ this stupid business, there is not much likelihood of their arresting M. pe Persicny in the fabrication of any future Infernal Machines that may be wanted to assist the “ Progress” of his boon companion and master, Louis Napo.eon. Uncle Tom's Cabin.! A conscrextiovs Quaker proposes in the Daily News that, in | arrested by the gendarmerie, who probably regarded it as a political emblem.” justice to Mrs. Stowe, every er of “‘ Uncle Tom” should subscribe to one common fund for the authoress the sum of one “penny.” Of course all the pas booksellers—for their sins—will join in this act of penay-tence | PHILANTHROPY AND POSTAGE STAMPS. Wuewever there is an unusual burst of British benevolence it manifests itself now in a shower of postage stamps. If a widow applies at a Police Court, and makes out a hard case, she is immediately inun- dated with postage stamps, as if her only necessity was an extensive corresponder ce, and that the means of gratifying alove of letter-writing was all she could desire. Poor Dwr, the policeman whose head was cut to pieces by the ruffian Cannon, has become an object of compassion, which has evinced itself in a flood of stamps, as if the wounds on the poor fellow’s head could be healed by the application of several heads | of Her Masesty. We, however, do not wish to discourage even this small mode of assisting a fellow-creature, and we gratefully accept } mga stamp mode of contribution, as bearing the true stamp of ty. Revolutionary Flowers. THe Augsburg Gazetle says: “An Englishman who had purchased a bouquet and fixed it in his breast, was No doubt of it: the flowers were hearts-ease, and what right has any | man in Augsburg to wear in his bosom one morsel of hearts-ease ? Prornets at Favit.—The discovery of the Australian gold fields, we had been led to ome, would occasion much change; whereas, the fact is, that everybody complains of a scarcity of silver.

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MRS. GAMP TAKING THE LITTLE “ PARTY” SHE: LOOKS AFTER BACK TO SCHOOL. 0 einpeningietemempeonns Novemsea 6, 1852.

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Se coe oe ; Fy og! " wigerneaath i a9 rer erveeemengye rie athe 1h “ya a Sergi:

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| not understand her. LA SALETTE AT HOME; OR, AN APPARITION MADE BASY. Tuere is little question about the apparition at La Salette. Evidently, “ something has been seen there,” as the old woman says in the ghost story ; ingor somebody. ‘The probability of the oceur- rence may be demo , even to the incredulous British mind, The apparition alluded to was that of the Maponwa, who manifested | herself on a mountain-to,a peasant boy and girl, aged 1] and 15 years respectively ; and gave the children a message to the people of Franee. It is affirmed by a cloud of Roman Catholic priests; amongst them the Rev. Ma. Norrucore, account of the prodigy was published last week in the 7imes. The celestial visitant complained to the little | rusties of the —— the nation, of swearing, fast-breaking, and desecration of holy-days: and commissioned them to declare that these sins had occasioned the potatoe-rot ; and that unless they were repented of, the corn would go next, a failure also happening im the grapes and oe to be followed by a pestilence that would particularly attack children. This revelation occurred in 1846. It seems a pity that the French Revolution was not predicted instead of the failure of the harvest and the nuts, But ifthe miracle was not verified by the event, no matter, It may be sufficiently established in another way. passage in the tale of Mr, Norrucors, deserib adopted by the holy Personage referred to :-— “ In the course of her conversation with the children, she began it in French; but | when she came to speak of the potatoes, they did not know what she was talking about. The girl was about to interrupt the lady, and ask her what she was talking about, when the lad (lady?) interrupted her, guessed her thoughts, and said they did Bhe repeated her words in the patois of the country, and continued the whole conversation in the same till the lest words, which were French, when she said, ‘ Well, my children, you will take care to cause thie intelligence to pass to my people,’ ” We shall quite comprehend the possibility of this event, if we imagine the prodigy to have occurred in England, La Salette is a of the Alps, 40 or 50 miles from Grenoble, situated in a district | whose inhabitante—observ such a patois, that they do not even | | know the French for . Transfer the venue to England. Fix it | im some county rejoicing in a modification of the Qusxn’s language. For Alps substitute the South-western Downs ; for peasant children a couple of coetaneous — and for La Salette, say, St. Catherine’s Hill, near Winchester, in. hire, Let that ancient and venerable city onee more enjoy a marvellous celebrity, as it did in the days of | thanmaturgic Switnm. Suppose the le; to be that Sx. CatHenine on her own hill: on the old Roman encampment called after | her name—as that name is peppeanees in the neighbourhood. She | descended, then, on Catturn Hill, during the school hours, or the vaca- ing the style of address i branch | PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. Mark the following | f=? 2 201 children,” concludes the Sart, dropping the vernacular, “ go your way, and impart this swfal intelligence toa heedless Public.” So saying, St. CarueRre vanishes—by degrees—as asserted by her auditors ; who knew not whether they were standing on their heels or their heads at the time. Somebody, you would think, had appeared to these bumpkins—as at La Salette—somebody if not some spiri/. Noone can say that the apparition of a Saint is not possible under certain cir- cumstances. It might even be ex where existed a community of zealous Sainte in the neighbourhood of a population of profane clowns. Saints, in such cases, would naturally talk pafois on finding that they were not understood, and would be likely to get hung up or break in. the same, as well if the boors they to were Itchen. i } } Clods of an Alpine valley, as if they were Clods of the Valley of * LOUIS NAPOLEON'S “AVOWED PRINCIPLES,” we of “ our own Correspondents,” speaking of the late suppression of the National College of Agri- culture at Versailles, remarks with a naiveté that is really quite refreshing :— “It is said, with great appearance of truth, that the suppression of the College is ineopsistent with the avowed prinei- ples of Lous Naprouzox to pursue the course marked out by the Consular and | Imperial Government of his uncle,” “ Inconsistent?” —~ why, of | course it is: but what of that ? Surely, “our own” cannot be ignorant that, Louis Naroueon’s | practice always is “ inconsistent with his ayowed principles’ ” To “arow” one thing, and do its opposite—this is his Golden Rule: or, rather say, his Brazen one, | | STANDING ON HIS RIGHTS—AND LEFTS. THERE was once a Mepwin who made himself known by his conver- |sations with Byron, and there is now a Mepwiy, a boot-maker in | | Regent Street, who desires to render himself illustrious by his com- | /munications with Pench, It seems that he is the individual whose “ten guinea outfit” for Australia we lately touched upon ; or, bei I, | tion of the Wykehamite college-boys, who are wont to disport thereon. Gites Firtcn is loitering hard by, in charge of sheep, and Betsy | | Gammon is helping him. The rustic pair, between asleep and awake, | are astounded by a flash of redder than sunsbine—or moonshine — | as red, perhenhs a nitrate of strontia could make it. As they rub) | their eyes, regain their senses, they become aware of the | | presence of a the Saint of course. Sz. CaTueniwe addresses | | them in the following me’ itan language ; “Jayenile specimens of rural population, relinquishing awhile nome fleecy charge, 1 desire you will attend to my observations, I | lament to find that, notwithstanding the praiseworthy exertions of a zealous clergy, who are not regarded with the reverence | could wish, | | demoralization prevails in this country to a fearful extent. Hence the mysterious aed » which, bafflmg the investigations of the most | profound vegetable physiologists, has invaded the tubers of the potatoe,” | | Here the eyes. amd mouths of the young Anglo-Saxons dilate so amazingly, as to make it quite clear that they have not understood one word that has been said—not even the last as pronounced by the, Saurr. They utter inarticulate expressions of bewilderment; or the | pastoral youth exclains timorous!y :— “ Plaze, Mum, we dwooan’t know whawt ‘tis you manes !” “Dost n’t ?’ replies Sr. CatHentvg, remembering whom she is talking to; “dostn’t? then theeoost now, praps. Tellee whawt ; there be too much zin and wickudaus im this here world by haaf; and if so be as folks dwooan’t mend their waays, ’t ’ool be the wuss vor ’em. ’Tis ter-ree-able to hear the cussun and zwarun as gooz on everywhere, and to zee the workun 0’ Zundays ; or spendun the daay zottun at public- house ’sted o’ gwain to church, Takun no note o’ Crismus Daay, nor | Good Vriday nuther, nor nit nare a blessed one of all the Zaainte days | in the Calendur. That’s how the ’tatur-rot come; and now lookee | “less there’s a alteraation, the next thing as ‘ll goo ’ll be the whate, and | arter that the barley; and then ye wunt ha no beer: mind that ; apd | the turmuts ’ll foller; and last of all the aguy Il goo all over the land, | and knockee down like ninepins, ’specially the young ‘uns, that boilers | bad words to their hosses, and zquats zwingun a top 0’ gates chawun, | bihaacon : in Lent time too, when they ought to be atun zalt vish and| | telium their bades, There now, you goo and tell ’em all this here vrom me; and every man Jack to mind what I apropos of hoots, we ought, perhaps, rather to say, we recently w into. It seems, that we. have unconsciously trod. upon @ i tradesman’s Corps Soege his boots, by intimating that he deals in | “ ready-made articles,” there being, it seems, a distinction between boots ready made, apd boots that are made ready on the pumice. We did not mentiog.any names, but if the boot fits, and we believe a Mepwin boot does.gene he, or any one else is quite welcome to wes & ; & consummation which any maker of boots may most devoutly wish for, A NEW EX HEBITION. As soon as the success of the “ Wellington Campaigns’ it will be succeeded b on exhibtion of the’ Lov Campaicne.” They will comprise; L. The Roniogns canes, with the live eagle and the bit of raw bons = on cocked hat. thie - ods 2. e Strasburg campaign, r APOLBON ume, i The 10th of April campaign, with the special constable’s 4 The Plain of Satory campaign, with the distribution of wine and 5. The Boulevards campaigns will be omitted ag.being too terrible | for any but an Exhibition of Savages. ” isexhausted, | 1s NsPOLEow Punch to Doctor Cahill. Ma. Puncn presents his compliments to Doctor Canin, and begs "| to call his notice to these lines in his letter to the Kant ovr Denny :— “If you gave me fair play, my Lord,—if you do not set your Times, and your Glole, | | and your Standard, and your Punch, to ridicule and abuse me- Mr. Punch begs to say that it is very likely he cannot, at the desire | of Loxp Denpy, afford any ridicule for Docror Cant1t, as he will no doubt need all his stock for Lory Denny himself. Se.risuwess,— What is called selfishness frequently consists in not zays to un! Yes, my | doing what the selfishness of another person wishes you to do.

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Ss ye) 202 PUNCH, Oh THE LONDON CHARIVARL BILL-STICKERS BEWARE. | | Sasc- NE would think that the ~ Bill-Stickers were a most formidable body of men, if we are to judge by the number of warnings and cautions that are being con- tinually addressed to them. From the frequency with which they are called upon to “ Beware,” it would ap- ar that the Bill-Stickers ave a reputation for stick- ing at nothing, and that it is necessary to make them the objects of constant caution. The last new move that has been made against them is to hold them responsible for the sentiments contained in the placards they —_ up: —a proceeding that must lead to much inconsistency, for everybody knows, on the authority of the old joke on the subject, that a Bill-Sticker will stick up for any side that will pay him. _ A poor unfortunate has, it is said, been lately held to bail for posting an anti-militia bill, though, perhaps, the eelf-same individual bad, within a few minutes, been pasting Re placard inviting “ fine young men” to join the gallant band ; and there is but little doubt that if he were asked to stick up a broadside, offering a reward for his own | apprehension, he would undertake the job on the shortest notice. | Everybody knows that if a Bill-Sticker were for one moment to become a party man, his occupation would be gone ; and he accordingly merges his politics in his paste-pot. To him it is a matter of indifference what the Government may do: the only Bills in which he feels an interest being those that require sticking. He cares not to watch the stages at which a Bill in the House may have arrived, but he is anxious that | every Bill should be printed, in order that he may have an opportunity | of submitting it out of doors to the fair chance of a reading. | wa, } “ Cotone. Sistnorr, wHo ComMmanps THE Lincotn Miitia, Has CONTRIVED TO RAISE A SERGEANT AND THREE Men.”— United Service Gaz (te. Spigotry and Intolerance. An advertisement has been published with the heading of “ Bitter Beer Controversy.” We cannot well conceive a controversy about beer being a bitter one, unless a part in it has been taken by Puitrotrs. Cocxxzy Puitosoray.—The Socratic mode of argument is the on'y true mode of chopping logic, because it proceeds altogether on the principle of axing questions. AGRICULTURAL ABSTINENCE. “ Aw extraordinary case of abstinence” has lately been astonishing ‘the weak mind of proverbially “Silly Suffolk.” One Exizazeta Squrreet, it is said, a resident at Shottisham in living upon nothing for the last six and is still voluntarily restricting herself to this economic diet. By some her existence is esteemed a miracle : but to us the miracle to be that a case like this should have occasioned any wonder in so fruitfully miraculous a district. “ Hundreds of visitors,” we are told— “ Of every rank in life, have daily flocked to see her. Committees have been formed to watch at her bedside: and repeated public meetings have been held throughout the | neighbourhood, for the purpose of debating and examining the case.” As if there were anything new init! As if this air-plant vegetation were not a known and common attribute of our agricultural humanity ! Why, total abstinents abound in Suffolk: the whole county is infested with these starving SQuiRRRLs :—SQuiRRELs, namiely, in the shape of our Distressed Agriculturisis, who, by their own veracious testimony, have been living upon nothing for the last six years—in fact, ever since the introduction of Free Trade. Fitly, we think, may these be christened “Squisrers:” for are they not continually (according to their own account, at least) “up a tree?” PUNCH ON THE BABY. ABrEs are such delicate subjects, we scarcel know how to handle them. Some |oo! upon a Baby as an unmitigated good, but we have often met with it in the shape of a “ crying evil.” Much, however, depends on the treatment of the infant, and in this respect we cannot too much condemn the bad example set by the a of public eutertainmenta, for a baby is seldom intro- duced upon the stage, except to be stuffed into a drawer, thrust away under a bed, * wh. rat down upon in a chair, or thrown about in a pantomime. If all the world were ~~ ™ literally a stage, no baby could survive - the first stage of its existence. A real Adelphi baby should a heart of bran and a bead of wood, the arms of a Dutch doll and the legs of a Marionette, to be able to bear the treatment to which it is liable. Happily our business is with the baby of private life, and not with the baby of the foot-lights, so that we are not doomed to the agony of tracing its heartrending career, from the hands of its unnatural father —the property man—to the hampers, the holes and corners, the parcels, and even the pockets, into which it is kicked and crammed in the course of its brief existence. : A new-born baby exhibits to the eye of a casual observer during the first few weeks of its existence nothing but a series of grimaces, which, though usually the result of wind, are supposed to arise from intelligence. When a baby has a tendency to nocturnal roaring, the mother usually proposes a mild cathartic, but the father is apt to propose a more decided regimen by committing it to the nursery. Some infants scream at the sight of a strange face, a mode of proceed- ing which is usually attributed to sagacity on the part of the “little dear,” but it really arises from that cacoethes lacrymandi which is so prevalent among the infant community. When the child is teething, it is difficult to say what should be the mode of treatment, but speaking as a father—not as a mother—we are inclined to think that the only course to take while the infant cuts its teeth, is for the time to cut the infant. ; Among the diseases to which children are liable we must instance spasms, which, however, are often an ———- complaint, put forward by the nurse as a plea for the necessity of having some spirits always at — = “from hand to mouth” is continually exemplified by the class uded to. As the complaints of the baby are not a pleasant theme, we shall pass over the catalogue commencing alphabetically in Croup and ending in Snuffles—a malady whose effects it is more easy to understand than to appreciate. An Austrian Heaven. Aw Austrian, upon being asked for a definition of Paradise, said, “I | believe it to be a kingdom where you can travel backwards and | forwards without a passport.” RS wr Wuat MIvisters wish To po. —To measure Free Trade corn with |a Protectionist bushel. Tue Heicut or Srupticrty.—Buying a Brapsuaw in the hope of | j ascertaining when your train will start.

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 203 THE BOTTLE-HOLDER AND THE BOTTLE OONJUROR. AN ECLOGUE, BY THEOOCRITUS PUNCHOVIUS. Scews,—Pali Mall. Enter the Lonp or Baoapuawps (Hants), To him the Lonp or Hucuennen (Bucks), pkgs oi savant aprends his ines, | gee what Ende ily f rod Tape? pom ? tbe chains of sod ‘Bam canst Lord of H. ‘the Kaisers, and | ninotenl side 7 so B. (aside). 1 dare say. Anite him) Is anything impossible, O Asiatic Mystery Man, in these days of marvels, when a Crystal Palace | springs up like a dream, when nations are linked by a whispering wire, | and when a Matwessuny is the Foreign Minister of dn my Lord of H. ee pees most judicious of Conceive =A e! no longer ig pos and with small among men, O Mosaic ter! aoe —~ “7 if th wile the ohied = yy In a groove, ou wilt, there is a t us speak of the sweet singers, and the Houris of the Sg Will fous of yonder pile re-open its gates? What of the Warbling woe? Lord of H. judge me not, O Jaunty One. When have I spoken without a meaning—to such as thou, at least, for | count not as —_ the sounds that soothe the territorial dunderheads? I accept the groove. Lord of B. Then answer me, © Adjuster of Burdens. Does the chivalric noble, the Horse-taming Dersy, ratify thy words to me ? Lord of H. Airy Viscount, parlez vous Francais F Lord of B. Many to whom thig question is addressed will reply, I can read, write, and understand it, but Leamnot speak it. I am not one of| the many. Lord of H, Then take thy amewer, accomplished diplomat. | c'est mot Lord of B. Tt is well, O Politieal Bi er. And thyoffer? Must| I correct the grammar of thesagacious MaLMEsBuRY, teach the sportive | Watpore that jest is mot earnest, or fill the seat of the modest| Pakinetor, while he departs to whip little boys at Quarter Sessions. Lord of H. None joke so-well as , yet joke not, Terror of the} insolvent Greek. Thou hast but to name thy office, and its present | humble warming-pan warms it no more. I see my a he | take MALMESBURY a mes that he is now our Consul in Bulgaria ? Lord of B, Festina lene, Vi¥i4x i and mark me. Reasonably | pliable, for this is a world I have that which men c character. I may have it to eS but i don’t mean to lose it. The | Ministry that has me has apolicy. And yours is—— ? Lord of H. Of course—e@am you doubt it, Queller of the Yelpers ? Are we not pledged to constitutional principles, to just and necessary | measures, and to a strict adherence to that course which shal! seem best | calculated to promote the benefit of all classes of Hen Maszsry’s subjects ? } ord of B. Am I a tersitorial dunderhead, Bewsamin of the Mess, | that thou should’st ore me thy sonorous because hollow words ? Keep | them for thy bum and answer me categorically. ‘The nation hath = a ae So have L Are you pledged not to oppose our wi Lord of H. Personally, O Smasher of Unquuarrs and CocHRranes, | neither I, nor our chiefs dream of assailing Free Trade. But there be such poor things as CuristorHers and Grawsys and Booxers, and | ifa few speeches—and what are speeches?—soothe those souls, and secure those votes—his heart is harder than thine, O kindly V iscount, } ne would refuse them that futile consolation. Thou twiggest ? if; aut vivre. Lord of B. Je ne vois pas la necessité, Giadiatorial Bersamix. How- ever, let us get through the groove. An unconditional pledge to Free Trade—that is my lowest figure and no abatement at this shop. D’ye buy ? Lord of H. On credit, yes, ancient and judicious one. Come to us now—tide us over this session— in 1854 we will discover Free | Trade was expressly provided by Magna Charta. Is not that constitu- | lonal ? Lord of B. Tick is unconstitutional when principle is at stake, thou Revolutionary Erictetus. Mend your bid. Ready money. Lord of H. earnestly.) Woulda’s 1, but for —— he Etat—| 5 THE LAST GLIMPSE OF THE MONS. UNCH sees with regret his Mons, Ju.iizy, that kettle-drums in each ear, that we think over the sad prospect of a separation = JULLIEN, e have been humming the tune of “ Robin Adair” ever since we read the melancholy ad- vertisement, and we have been asking ourselves in all sorts of different keys— What ’s this dull town to us? J ULLAES, 80 rare | What ’s this dull town to us © JULLIBy’s not there | From this monotonous melody we strike off into another more in conformity with the charaeteristics of the Mons., and in a flowmg melody we bid— Farewell to the Mountain, the valse and quadrille, Of melody the fountain, with neat | ya frill, Farewell | for so soon will his ban disappear, The cornet and piccolo won't meet our ear ; All so shrill, all so sweet, in a solo they tell, When played on by Kaewic, whom all know so well. Farewell to trombone, the sax horn, and flute, And e’en the ophieleide soon must be mute. Farewell to the fountain, in in splendid gold chair, Of music the fountain, with nicely oil’d hair : All so neat, al! so smart, there was ne’er such a swell ! Farewell to Mons. Juuuiew! Farewell, oh! Farewell ! Disraeli’s Right Hand. THERE is a great deal of talk about Lonp Patmenerow joining the present Ministry. His accession would certainly be of the greatest service to DisBaxz.t, especially at the o of Parliament. Lordship is notoriously “ Tue Jupicious be able to hold the Quart Bottle which, according to Sin James GaauamM, the CusscELion OF THE Excuequ ER has promised to into. only danger is, that when Disaaei is once inside the bott Tue Jupicious BorrLeHoLpe may feel inclined to keep him there, 4 Paise Report. Mason Benesronp—says the Herald—is not going to Jamaica All | the better for Jamaica, says Punch / As his | OTTLEHOLDER,” he would

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. | THE SIGHS OF A FAT POLICEMAN. | THE EMPIRE OF BEADLEDOM. \ Several incidents connected with the recent entry of the Beadl Wise I wasn’t 80 into the Arcade, have been added to the original accounts from various fat! I shall never | sources. We select a few of the princi if 1 grow much | fell suddenly upon one of the old guard—a very old (black)! fatter. How shall| whom he instantly decorated with an order—for the Olympic. The I bs able to work | effect was excellent. my way up toan| Everywhere the same enthusiasm. The Beadle gave an entertain- Inspectorship, | ment at the dining-rooms in Rapert Street. There were thres covers— when ‘ am Re a \one of meat and tve of potatons— which bed an ey : ing out visibly to | dining-room was deco in the very richest st ith transparencies the dimensions of ' and cher emblems. One Peace was tar on which | an Alderman. I| words were written in gold letters on a black , but at the cannot command | tance we were at we could not decipher them. The Rheumati respect now. Good | played at the bottom of the staircase during the repast. At its con- wy i be fucken, ee ponte left , Reeepense for oe young girl who “ — will i im, wi own s, the viands he partaken of, when I shall be | evidently produced the best impression. probably, twice my | In the evening the Beadle visited the Concert Room of the Crown, present size? I am and remained to hear the recitation, by the celebrated Miss ReBecca, taunted at the station with my laziness. They will not believe | take | of some lines written expressly for the occasion under the title of any exercise with my present substantial appearance. They imagine I : : om sitting “* campghens panting, wiping my —_ reposing oo LE BEADLEDOM ’estT—?THE PAY! the extreme fatigue o walking down a street. ey little know : Te | what a restless being Iam. Why, I am never still for two moments—|_1¢ v Pe — oo ae — ~ ge onat onl walking as rapidly as my size will allow me—in the hope of reducing Poe fl _ = & mn : — 8 my fat. Besides, where am I go to? Every area-gate is locked against Some differ: ease o “ nion is said to exist’as to the title by which me : every kitchen-door is slammed in my face. My largeness makes), ~ ~~ m+ made heveditesy. 1% lee boon stated Vast the me a conspicuous object. I cannot slink down the area-steps, unper- re Bead! ended ‘to be assumed will be that of Bomsz IL. Beadle of the ceived, like some thin fellows whom I could mention. The cookies ales = 4“ etemer ite Lasies Been” text's Os ae know I should only compromise them. mf movements are necessarily | : a dis ‘tion to . extension of territory is has bean Ghiested. to slow. In the event of a surprise, how could I run with the rapidity of | PZ * ci#post = sovetsiion > iaeien wae, th is a that | a black beetle into the nearest cupboard? More than this, where little eng antic! oy Ticies, wheso temas would be the cupboard large enough to hold me? No; I feel lam|” ~ yes reslamed in a body, and te have vaented their dfiess shuaned by those very beings whom my heart and Police-station in life|Tye"Readle of Exeter is thus thrown upon his own resou-ces, whic prompt me 0 e est in life. Yes, it cannot enied, | am : : —: the Pariah of the kitchen. However, I bave a rich morsel of consola- consisted, when we saw him last, of » peamyworth of walnu's. | tion in my grief. Supposing I feasted on the same rare dainties as my happy comrades,—supposing the fat of the land was placed before me as freely as before those lucky fellows, Nos. 15, 24, and 33: and supposing the strongest beer in the house was lifted to my parched lips | as often as it is to theirs; why, it is terrible to think of thewful size | Tshould ultimately expand to! unless I prudently ate plenty of pickles, and took vinegar by the gallon. | “Yes! I have a thousand reasons—each as big as a balloon—for | wishing I was not so fat. I know I am laughed at as I walk, with an | attempt at dignity, down the street. Persons turn round as they | by, and I can feel, by the burn upon my cheek, that they are smiling | mockingly at me. Besides, the torments, the vulgar nicknames of the boys, are enough to wear any life out, if it was not of those tremendous proportions that it never will be worn out. I am a National Debt of flesh that nothing ever will = down. Oh! those boys! They jeer and throw things at me. The young blackguards know they are safe. They are perfectly aware 1 cannot run after them. If I am carried awe by a whirlwind of passion (and it would | require nothing short of a whirlwind to move such a heavy body), [son | | repent my rashness. I am obliged immediately to stop, a to lean | against the wall for breath. Then the boys laugh at me all the more until there are no bounds to their impudence. If anything in this world could have made me thin, it would have been the worretting of those | | boys, but even they have failed in reducing me one balf-ounce in weight. | My fat is proof against all the arrows, and slings, and oyster-shells they | The worst mn me. | : a fet “The worst is, 1 feel if I get any larger I must grow out of my | situation. As it is, my clothes are obliged to be made expressly for me. Several complaints have been made against the extra expense. | Then my clothes always want repairing. The buttons fly off with the | least exertion—or else the coat constantly requires enlarging. As Bomace Il. ano wis Barittiant Srarr. soon as the Commissioners discover that they can clothe two policemen for Sa — pdt | clothe pay te shall fc the sack—but | ———————— — ————————— even then it must be a arge sack, or else it will never fit me. : “ But there are dangers far more formidable than the above annoy- Railway Logic. ances. There’s the danger of coming in contact with such a monster; Owe of the directors of that admirably managed railway, the Great sweep as Cannon! Can you imagine a fat policeman standing up with} Western, being asked if he could defend the constant want of puacta- such a bull to allow himself to be quietly gored? Then there is the ality for which that line is famous, replied, very readily, that as danger of assisting at a Fire! Can you conceive a person of my bulk punctuality was but the sow of business, it might, he thought, be fairly having to venture across a narrow plank, or running up a burning stair-| reasoned that punctuality was not material. case, oF hanging on toa wae spout? pees 3 danger ~ of rose ataden after a thief; or, worse still, ranning for my life away from one! It! ‘ : brings on a cold perspiration merely to think of the possibility of such | A Question by and to the Young and Beautiful. dangers. But, | them out of sight (as I hope they always will} “Wuar,” asked Marcarrra of Cactus, “what, dearest, do you be), L hope I have said enough to induce every benevolent person to! think is really the food of Cupid?” pity the sighs of “4 Fat Porrceman.” And Cecitra answered—“ Arrow-root.” be able to get on| When the Beadle was about to salute one of the young girls, his eye | | | | } | Primed oy Willam Bradbury, of No. 13, Upper Woburn Piace, in the Parish of St. Pancr .s, and Frederick Mullect Zvans, of No.7, Chureh Row, Stoke Newington, both im the County of Middlesex, Printers, at their . Office .o Lombard Street, im the Precinct of Whitefria-, n the City of London, and "ublished by rhem at No. %, Ple-t Street, in the Parish of St. Bride's in the City of London.—Sarvapat, November sth, 1557

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL A VISION OF CONVOCATION. | vad iad fl nee ie a + pled er the Lip > yaaa gaper— °T was the same wh How to Degsr, the church bent on wee To turn each Though at cost of a little seceding, Had determined (all dangers unheeding) By revived Convocation to shape her. How I slept on such news was a wonder— | Isw *t was from sheer stupefaction— | But I dreamed that I heard a far thunder | Which drove me well nigh to distraction, Where it came from, above me, or under, | | knew but towards it did blunder, Till the dar around broke asunder, | And revealed Convocation in action. Giv’n to bowin d- | Their rubicunds A There were } With power

jealous— And hammer and As 1’ try to reco | Its seene was a something between a Pit for ratting, or cock or dog-fighting, And the statelier sort of arena Which Tauromachous Spain takes delight in. | But for Senor and fair Senorina, With mantilla, and fan, and basquina, Collected around might be seen a Kind of audience much less inviting. | There were curates, ual and other, For the most part by no means plethoric, And rectors who, squeezed in the smother, | Gave off large amounts of caloric : But meeting his mate

Th’ Ecclesiologic, °

who were visited by the Viners Many, near Gre- noble, were each told a WHO WANTS A SECRET? secret which they were par- ticularly enjoined not to tell anybody. ) that these secrets will be hawked about France before long, and exhibited, like wax dolls or white mice, or any other perambulating ra- ree show, 80 much @ head— Gospel- Gongs for a deaf generation. On the pit all their gazes were Where arrayed—in condition as prime, As was ever bull-terrier entered, To kill threescore rats against time— I beheld the Church champions who Their lungs for the business be-S in my rhyme, There was Paitirorts And eS pleading a Lest he might be asked to fight While Huxrastsz, less a Ta his view of the Chure | Preached up fertilizers co And bowled down Dean | Da. Pusey, begowned and betren | Went in with a will against Ham Da. Toorps fought a hundred who copemed ‘late Campen ;* HE two peasant children, | e will be bound | ception, that they | wil be exhibited | ‘ only to the “ faith- ful.” The mone of no “heretic” will be taken. It . is evident by these two secrets being still left undi- vulged, that the miracle, miracu- lous as it has nitbeste hoes, ig still incomplete. Some greater miracle has yet to come Napogon the evening before his coronation; and perhaps, by a miracle not less miraculous, a sum of money will be found under the i of the two Children when they wake up the following morning. | iat lor it is absurd to suppose that these secrets were ever intended the c to remain secrets—the two children will be | summoned to Nétre’ and there, just previous to the holy oil being dropped upon the head of the new Sao they will divuige to the astonished c what the two secrets are. If this grand i Louis Napotzon is not the clever manager we sappose him to be. But so great a chance will not be . e do not pretend to miracies ourselves; but we think tell what these two secrets are. The First Seoret ia—that Lovis Narotzox will be the greatest Emperor that ever ruled in the world !

erbaps the secrets will be communicated in a dream to Lovis |

205

There were bishops, of mesh 5 and one hon we A pee the ae pother, | FIELD ’gainst Benwerr did But looked at the same time quitet cara And capitular bodies There were prim and precise Oxford fellows, and strange intonation, turned to yellows, With fasting and mortification : ular pi eachers, (what boxers call) “ | Which might make a street-mounte With Rocusster Wuistow did clench hard (More fools they that to tackle him ventured ) "Till a tangle of law they got jammed in. Mx. Dewwison hit out for High Church ; Ma. on countered fiercely for’ urch Historie : ers, most zealous, bello burch ;” GILBERT Kiuot ae stoutly for no In the midst of thi and brattle, Its ruler, ey at it went hard-— ees th the battle, amidst the fierce rattle wa cattle, aa ts Drover wis who Even! he es that "il ~<a peeping Lat his rash is. to frolie, ET al tolic en bucalig, ., before him.

“ae at vers rege

The Second Secret io—that Bagland, before two years are over, will be a province of France ! And these are, indeed, Secrets worth knowing! and the great beauty about them is, that as far as History is concerned, they will always remain Secrets, ATTESTATION Our friends, the pro rs of Bitter Ale, must allow us to remark, that as may be cleverness in the craft of advertising, ab. _ ly considered, on evince a flatness, like that of the stalest wipes, in the puffing’ art as it concerns their special commodity, Will they submit to be t how, in one point at least, more j iciously to improve the unity which has been afforded - wl by what their seientific m4 Banon Liznic, calls “the unguarded remark of a French Chemis commence one of their encomiums OF BERR. with this wise ex- |" their modication of malt liquor y citing— “The unanimous opinion of the most eminent scientific and medical men Ce the day, of Banow Ligeia, Mesens. Guanam, Horruansx, Mvrernatr, faTson, Bupp, Marnsnact Mat, Travens, Fenouson, Rown, Vivian, Hevoare, Lamas , aoe WD, Evans, Forupy, Pern, Macronm, Voss, Torwent, Huwren, Davies, Jonna, Sexton, Mactapes, Macaucay, Gaay, Tenvax, Hirt, Haxwanv, Hannon, Purrer, INMAM, Sin CHARLES CLARKE, the BawATORY COMMISSIONER of the Lancet, &c., &e., deo.” These are not the authorities to quote in behalf of mye sort of beer / What does Bazow Lizsic know about Jer ’ asks the British public blican. No; if you want to commend your oo A. them how it has been honoured with the j of the beverage. Inform them o Nhe Low | Mr, Granevonn roared “Here goes for my |

VOL, XXII.

Page 210

- "py a Se ee Pee CRA aE te ol TL ie 206 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL TIVE “BLUE PIG” TO MR. ov)! TZ \\ \ my Tape BY eet reer | a - - Pt Le ’ 4 | . wet a — =. pe py) | Aig! = " z | ) PUNCH. Rh. Punco,—I am the owner } and proprietor of the Blue Pig Tea-gardens, a sweet | resort—though I say it— for the feast of soul and flowers of reason. And I thank you, Mr. Punch, as a man, a father, a Christian, and particularly as the landlord of the Blue Pig Gardens, for your lovely article in your last but one about the dese- cration—for that, I hear on all hands, from fifty licensed vvictuallers at least, is the word—the desecration of the Sab- bath by the opening after morning service of the Crystal Palace at Syden- | ham to an unreflecting British public. Mr. Punch, |the week, and tell me if he isn’t one of the 1’m not a man as cries ont upon a little. But I do consider the British Sabbath as one of the brightest jewels in Her Masesty’s Crown; and once open ‘hat Palace on a Sunday—and what do you think will become of Windsor Castle? Not only of Windsor Castle —but of Lambeth Palace and the whole monarchy ? | T; Why, Sir, the whole thing —which is now the envy of surrounding nations— vill dust, Sir; yes, dust like a soap-bubble, and leave not a Rex behind. “What, I ask, when the crimson waves of revolution—as I heard the Revenewp Mar. | Janez Crank all of a foam and perspiration say—the crimson waves of revolution was washing our thrones, and carrying away, as if they was no more than so many drowned puppies, crowns, and sceptres—what saved the British Throne, the Quem, the Parnce, and the rest of the rer Family from the deluge? Why, the British Sabbath—with its Sunday Tea- gardens al belts of beads!” round smoky London, like—as Ma, Crank says—“ like a squat Injan with his “ Don't think—for I’m quite above it—don’t think I want to puff the Blue Pig. It isn’t necessary, Sir. No, the excellence of its liquors (no British brandy, but the real Coneyhatch) —no doctored gin, but the mantlin Cream of the Valley (I have heard it called Dove’s Milk)— no rum which isn’t rum at all, but the pare Jamaicay from the cane—nothing ’dulterate, but all pure spirits has placed the Blue ig on a pinnacle that puts it far beyond a puff. ‘It’s no matter how drunk | get on a Sunday at the Blue Pig’—is at times the boast of all my customers—‘ no matter how drank, the liquors is so good, that if L’m a beast on the Sunday night, I’m as fresh as a daisy onthe Monday morning!’ I do assure you, Mr. Punch, I’ve known men who use the Blue Pig take their ten, twelve, fourteen glasses of gin-and- tera Ls ane gs = —_ — or companions going ma! nothing, for such things will happen—and afterwards go home quiet as new-born ies; rising | with rocks about him, brought from all ends on the Monday like giants refreshed. But then, as I say, the Blue Pig’s liquors is the diam abe 5 A. te statues—with notorious, “ What, then, I ask, do we want with new-fanzled Palaces, where ’dolatory—as Mn. CaaNnk says—must be taught on Sunday, when we have our own national Tea-gardens, like the Biue Pig, with liquors served up to twelve at night in beautiful little bowers of privet aud sweet-briar with—at the proper season—hollyhocks, all as fine as if it was their Sunday out ? Isn’t this a place for the working-man to bring his wife and children and whilst he takes his humble gin-and-water, and whiffs his bird’s-eye, to sit and watch the smoke, and think (as Mx. CRanxk says) what vanity is life, and what wapours is all of us? Whereas, pictur to yourself that man with wife and children in that Sunday Wickedness— (a Babylon framed and glazed, Mr. Janez Caanx calls it!)—the Crystal Palace. What can he think on there that shan’t make him forget he’s a true-born Evglisuman? What will he see but abominations and ’dolatries? Not only that, but think of the man’s health. Why, there’s to be water enough in fountains to drown London. Ma. Crank says—in our wariable climate, a man, and his wife, and tender children (some of ’em perhaps at the breast) can walk among so much water without getting cold? I consider them fountains, Sir, as so much disease—yes, so much decline an laid on at high servic for the Sunday visitors of the Crystal Palace. Now, there is nothing | —as I’ve read—there’s to be fifty millions of scarlet geraniams in . You are quite right, Mr. Punch, have hit the very nail upon the head with that hammer which you use for a pen—quite t when you say that these geraniums must e the Sunday English- man think of the Scarlet Unfortunate Female at Rome. Yes; the ishman, instead being in the afternoon at chure as early as he can to the Blue Pig, bat then we don’t close ovr Gardens till tweive—instead of being in his family pew, if he can pay for it, will be wandering like a savage a heathen in a Temple erected—Mr. Crank says as much —to Atheism with a future eye to a Republic. Now, Sir, here’s two picturs | want you to look at. The Englishman, with his wife and children about his knees—some on ’em picking their virtuous shrimps or eating their modest peri- winkles—the lishman taking his glasses of gin or rum-and-water, and quietly smoking bis dozen pipes, thinking quietly of his past life in the bosom of his family, and of his future end. Consider that Englishman, Sir, resting himself in the Blue Pig Tea-gardens after the labours of proudest institutions of the country? With that Englishman we’ve unfurled the’ flag of battle: with that Englishman we won Waterloo —and with that Englishman—defended, as Mr. Crawk says, from the Yewplush Tree of the foreigner —we may still defy the world. Now, Mr. Punch, just look at pictur No. 2. Consider that Englishman, with wife and children, wandering about the Crystal Wilderness. Allow- ing they don’t get cold from the fountains— what do they see about ’*em? Why, nothing to fix their Sabbath thoughts. The Blue Pi ea-gardens keep a man, so to say it, to himself, his bird’s-eye, and his gin-and-water: but the Crystal Palace will be a Tower of Babel in glass; and I only hope—with Mr. Janez Caanx— that all concerned in it may be scattered to all the ends of the earth, like the first builders. [ should be happy, Mr. Punch—and would give legs-of-mutton and trimmings, with beer and spirits besides—if I could only once know that that Paxton was on the Coast of Guinea, and Fox and Henpersoy, one in the Red Sea and other in the Black. For them men—if the wickedness of the Sunday Palace is allowed— them men wi the ruin of all Sunday Tea- — a ys a inves # M amyy For I ook upon the Sunday Crys alace as nothing more than a Monster Extinguisher in Glass, that will put out, yes, a thousand Gin Palaces. The ruin them men will bring on y Sunday gardens, I wouldn’t have on my head for the Bank of England! But let me conclude the pictur of Englishman No. 2. Think of ii palaces | of the heathen gods and goddesses—and skeletons | of monsters that lived before the world was pro- | perly finished for Christians to come to. Think | |of the state of that man’s mind—all of a whirl, a worry, and confusion: here by one thing—dragged there by ano’ he’s dragged. still dragged from church ! | | | | r—and wherever “How different, Sir, the y Englishman | behind his pipe in the the doomed Bri ton lost in the Crystal Palace. | Could n’t you, Mr. Punch, give picturs of ’em, | Now, is it likely that—as which is the only thing that has stirred me up consumption— | to write ; and now am, yours, “Tue Brive Pic.” “PS. If the Crystal Palace is open on jand so aid the cause of morality and loyalty, | of this sort at the Blue Pig. Water there is and plenty; and water used with moderation | Suuday, all Sunday Tea-Gardens and ail Gio- cannot be objected against with a healthy quantity of spirits : ’specially such spirits as the Blue Pig’s. And then, to hear the Crystal Palace heathens make a brag that they won’t sell spirits at all. What a joke! when there’s thousands of public-houses open on Sundays, where the hippopotamus if it liked might swim in liquor. Palaces must and shall be ’demnified.—B. P.” Aw Ipea Wortuy or Lams.—The best motto But the fountains isn’t the only danger: that—as Mr. Caanx says—is only a matter of | that the Australians could adopt at the present the body; but what I’m now coming to is an affair of the soul. i | + outons, It’s an alarming fact that ' moment is, Repenons a nos

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PUNCH... OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL THE EMPIRE OF BEADLEDOM. SHEEP IN RAILWAY TRAINS. Wuar a wonderful improvement has taken place in the temper of the British Public! To such a proficiency have they attained in the virtue of pati that they will now not only put up with any injustice or im ion, but submit to be treated with the greatest contempt and insolence into the bargain. ‘They are content to travel in railway pens, like sheep to the slaughter, injured, deluded, derided, and only bleating in return. “ SEPAHEE,” a passenger, on a recent day, by the North-Western mail train, which arrived at the Euston Square terminus three hours behind time, writing in the Times, says, “ And, certaialy, when any of the passengers during the journey had the temerity to | put his head out of a window, and inquire of any of the numerous officials on the piat- | forms at the places of detention the eause of so many prolonged stoppages, he was | lucky if he escaped no worse treatment than a horse laugh in reply.” In the same Times, “A Travettzn sy tHe Gueat Western” complains that he did not get to Oxford till thirty-five minutes after time. “ Anoragr Victrm or Monoroty”’ also complains that he | arrived at the same place by the 4.50 express train nearly half-an-hour | late—pursued by a second express at risk to life and limb. And the | Rev. Tuomas Detves Baovucuron relates the particulars of a | collision © at the Bietchiey station, in consequence of mis- /management, and resulting in severe injury to a Jady’s arm, and in bruises, lost teeth, and cut heads, on the part of other passngere. - | Railway accidents, railway frauds, railway impertinence, are the staple \ | of our daily oy wna 8 Railway chairmen and directors are a) descending to the knavery, extortion, impudence, and brutality, from | which cabmen are rising in the scale of manners and morals. And, as | aforesaid, the British Public stands all this with passive mournfulness, quiet endurance, meek, inactive expostulation. Has it not grown to be a temperate public, a nice, gentle, long suffering public? Ah! there was a time, very considerably within the memory of man, when this public, so tame now, could not be put upon | at so little expense. I[f merely swindled by a playhouse manager, it | would deface ornaments and tear up benches. What would have ° | happened, in those days, if free-born British passengers had been . - . systematically delayed, endungered, and moreover mocked and set at Tue title under which the Beadledom is to be assumed is now the nought, b of unscrupulous, avaricious, dividend-grasping, subject of general conversation. Some are of opinion that Bumsce | screwing, Bloated railway directors? But now, as the public no longer II. is searcely extensive enough to take in all the souvenirs that ought to | takes the law into its own hands, and does mischief, it ought to insist be comprehended, and it is desirable that the take in should be as | upon legal damages in the event of accident or stoppage. complete as possible. They go the length of proposing that Bumsie XXVL should be the title of the new Beadle, as the generations of Beadledom date very far back, and, though there was no recognition of the intermediate Bumsces, it is said with much reason tha’, as they POETRY OF FINANCE. were not known, they could not be recognised. The following address has been agreed to by one of the Courts—a very inferior Court—in the neighbourhood :— Ne ereant Rrgno—that emigrant crowd ! “ Highness. Universal acclamations have accompanied your journey Such wholesale absconding should not be allowed ; through the Arcade, and turned it into a triumphal march. The It never will do, all those taxpayers bolting, — Arcade has spoken through a eee ny in - caps, Te You might as well have half the people revolting. everywhere. She desires for the Chief of the Arcade a title whic : f unite all her glories, including her cocked bat, so dear to her heart, her Uietese a = os Saegaton, staff on which she has relied, and her gold lace, with which she desires Who'll t 5 Dp Th ma -4 7 a 7 you in her name to lace her jacket. In the words of your immortal Whe the Nations debtee bas on be eile ; a? a uncle, we presume to say to you that six ranges of tea-caddies and mn the National adequotiatec work-boxes look down upon = from these gim-crack pyramids. Deign This problem has only one way I see through it, then, Highness, to give stability to that which has been shaken, and We must pay our own selves with no others to do it ; give force to that which bas been hitherto too fragile.” By a Cent. per Cent. Income-Tax settle the bother, It is expected that his Highness will declare himself moved, by the | And fork out of one pocket into the other! force of these powerful arguments, to accept the Hereditary Beadledom. | Some changes in the constitution of the Arcade are beginning to be! talked about. The portrait of the Beadle will, it is said, adorn the, Prinee’s Mixture. centre of the Arcade. It is to be surrounded with precious stones, | P : follo -_ that is to say, with precious large paving-stones. MapaMe Tussaun’s advertisements contain the following curious The Beadle continues to receive the most touching marks of adhe- Combination of attractions :— sion from the market-women, some of whom stick to him with pressing | “ The Chan:ber of Horrors and the Naro.zom Chamber, (1, extra.” pertinacity. He has lately received a deputation from the female! hig mixture is highly complimentary to the name of Naroueon— costermongers, one of whom threw bunches of (ever) greens in {his | though, if Napoleon Chamber is devoted to the deeds of Purnce Ee: while the melody of “ My Light Savoy,” was played as a duet Louis Narotzow, giving all the horrors that were perpetrated in the ween two members of the Green Baize and the Kheumatic bands, days of December, the aseociation is easily accounted for—only it | on the Pandean pipes and cymbals. strikes us that one Chamber would have sufficed for the two at present. | Auri Sacra FPames. | RAILWAY TRAVELLING MADE EASY. | Sucu is the thirst for gold in Australia that the real wealth of the|. 1¥ one of the Fashionable Marriages of last week, we read that colony is being ne glected, and there is little chance of the erop of wool pen Fd nm 7 ee . a pedi on ing secured, unless the sheep should assume an auriferous character, | * ™ , hould y and yield a golden fleece. | maids !—Our Old Gentleman. | i] + BY A PUBLIC CREDITOR, | “Mr. Puycu,—Which did Louis Napotzon say, ‘ 1’ mpire c'est} Motto ron tae Prestpewt.—Si vis bellum, para pacem. Anglice.— la paiz,’ or ‘ L’ Empire c'est [ épée?’ Yours, G.” | If you wish war, prate of peace.

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: : {Nak ident ne ie. a tetas SSS See $s + 3 , Times—being to the Crystal Palace a strength and s port, beyond the — of iron—the | 208 | PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVART. GREAT PARLIAMENTARY FEAT. It is becoming a common and rather a vulgar | feat to walk a thousand miles in a thousan hours. Some suburban Chicken, Stag, or Pet is now doing something in the same way at the Hippodrome, but we have to call atten- tion to a far more difficult achievement, in | which sitting instead of walking is the mode in which the task is accomplished. ‘ The hero of the feat | in quastion is CHARLEY “Bos a Suaw Levevas, well J iA known as the Parlia- , Aw. t mentary Pet, or House } 1h of Commons Game- { — Cock, who has already 7 y\ . ~ Re acco! if to Sm S~ Rozert Iyo1is — per- i y Y «~~ formed the astonishing ad task of listening to thir- teen thousand speeches _—_—= im thirteen thousand hours. The Right Hon- | = ourable bird —if the > Cock of the Commons will allow us to call him so — has P a entered ~ eee another match, in which he undertakes to sit for another series of hours during another . series of speeches ; and there will be constant relays of gentlemen of the press in attendance to report, should a distinguished Pet allow himself to fall from the mouth of Sroower, or of any one else, int the arms of Monruevs. We shall watch the progress of the match with considerable interest, for in addition to the | large body of old-established soporifics, who have on other occasions been found so trying to| the vigilant powers of the Cock of the Commons, there is supposed to be a very con-| — — infusion of poppies, occasioned by the “new additions” to the raw material | of Parliament. No Lord Mayor's Dinner.—Frantic Joy of the Turtles. THE CRYSTAL PALACE—“ WITHOUT THE DRAGON!” Ly one of the many admirable articles that have appeared about the Crystal Palace in the writer rejoices that Six Joseru Paxton will do everything “that a can to bring down to the 19th century, and within a few minutes’ drive of London, the fabled at ey, of the Hesperides, without the dragon.” We so; but we are nevertheless d with the monster, at least one day a week—and that the as! dsy wherein the Hesperides may be visitable by millions —the Sunday. The dragon Cawt—all his seales covered with the glossiest black, his armed neck decorously bound with snowy cambric—his head, horrent with spikes, surmounted by a beaver of shovel-shape ;— this has given voice; modulating = — gl = wont - tt Cant—doing his best to disguise his domination d i ft erness erers. ? Atte thie fashinw * sufferers. Well, how shall the Dragon be met ! e must be met and answered by the working-men of London. They must gather together—they must acres of parchment—they must beset the House of Commons, if they will not give themselves Ss their wives and children to the If they will not have the whole of their Sunday swallowed, bolted by the Dragon, they must at once defy him. The Dragon says, You shall keep to your back-rooms, your our all the Sabbath boars that 'you come not to church, You shall not smell the flowers | p.m. in the summer. The grounds around the palace might, at Sydenham on Sundays, for on thet day ene they flowers of beimetons ; shall not on the seventh day enter that Garden of Eden, for there lurks the old serpent. "Yon shall aot ous upon orange trees in bud, blossom, and fruit; | for every orange is as the death-dooming . Is not tobaeco by the more healt for your soul than sight of tobacco-plant flowering under glass ? Doctor Croty has beén sweetly eloquent on | “the domestic meal” on Sunday evenings. Labouring men » repose of their own | close rooms, and not the agitation of sight-seeing ; | all this is vanity, seith the preacher. But the | Doctor waxes old; he was not always thus | morose. Now there av persons who denounce | profane stage-plays a8 40 many snares of th Evil One; denounce them, even as Doctor Croty denounces the garden Sabbath, Ana yet im their eyes must Doctor Croc be little better than one of the wi For is not the Doctor author of LF Catiline (watered with the Liffy not quite Jonson’s Catiline) ; | also a comedy, 80 hat it fam into furious | farce, by name Pride shall have a Pall? A did not m CROLyY, in t ee oot brine the fear of the Horse his eyes, did he not endeavour to bey he Tenth” into contempt; and that, at véty critical time when the Tenth ecioad the ama fact in Brighton ball-room that “ Ten didn’t dance?” And now, has farce-writing, joke ing, rollicking Croty become an an- chorite, , we doubt not, wears iron points and horse-hair. P But is‘there no way to mollify our Crory ? Can we not touch bis heart, even through pocket ? Let us see. A sagacious correspondent of the M Rerald sugmests that a certain space of Crystal Palace “Might be set apart and fitted up as a place of worship, in which all or most of the sittings should be free. would propose three services, the morning serviee to com- mence at half-past ten or eleven a.m., the mid-day at three pis Fs EEE i Be F perhaps with advantage, be thrown open from the conclu- sion of the morning to the commencement of the evening service.” more clearly seen t A QUESTION OF FIGURES. Wauicu is the Emperor of the French to be, Navotzon Frast or Secowp, LL. or III. ? If could — his ward thought, His ti ‘some have NaPoLzox . twos ? Why should such more our its vex Reece ut whatsoe It can be io s stir, pow AE DP a slate, no doubt, by-and ili blow and rub it out ! A Flaw in the Title. BrrerLzss complains that there is bitter irony in’ the title of the new “Common Law a. cedure” Act: for it is evi he chess wil be tnigptatiom, ergutaaeeite

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_ PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI —

RAILWAY “ POINTS.” Vy ERY many of the accidents that are now daily occurring arise, we are told, from in- attention to the “ Points.” We are not well versed in ay | and have but @ misty notion of what the “ _— question feally are ut they havé long been knotty ones té us, and we are therefore bemipted to adopt the jah process, and summarily cut the problem that we cannot solve. On

any given failway, then, | we fearlessly také to find 1. A “ Point” of entirely by the laws of eccentri¢ motion : Sear b the time-billa sys- “a oa Pout of he ) Setedd tow ani ran ar” — until they ™ 7 0 y run in’ irregular paying) “ excursions,” “ Point ” of starting fast traiis immediately upon the wheels of ams oikatmad little excitement is sus both, and the chances of colfnon are reduced prety nearly tt dead certainty | 4. A“ Point” of selecting for a “trial trip” that period of the day when the line is fullest ; and of then dashing off without a minute’s — and at what it proves, generally ly, a killing pace * Point ” <a me | “reducing the —— ” by the mF expedient ing, in the person of one u py nee es the abi uties of a dozen other posts. (NV.B. And Ww tu: ~ 7 yap is a to a _ — simply 7 neglect uty,” nobody ever thinks of blaming the immaculate Directors for it.) These, we are sure, are “ Points” in every Railway Charter; and we fear there will be no end to the chapter of accidents so long as they are allowed to be so. A VOICE OF SYMPATHY TO THE COLONEL. “My Dear Sw ge fone by my master, Ma. WituiaM —% under a burden I saw—yes, I beheld—men ploughing on the site of the a Palace. Ay, my | ere the Plough is passing over the it; this, you know, is the consummation of destruction. Soon, = a trace of the edifice will remain but the columns which mark where . — the removal of which you can move in the House—and et oy ot be supported by a Protectionist Government. ~j say, my aan, loughed up the ground whereon wes te't Crys and they sow it with s: and by per- | mission of Mr. coe and Lorp Jouw Manyens, ao perhaps go | and graze there, I go alone, my Cotonen? “Anawer your fraternal, “ Epwagp,” Justice to Shee. Mz. Senszant Suze repudiates the doctrine of caloric evidently held by Ms. Lucas, and denies the theory of combustion » Jong to heretics. Siez is evidently a fair fighter in the Irish Brigade, and | this fair Suez shall be — denominated the “ Dashing media Serjeant ” of that gallant corps.

A Train of Ideas. Tr Guy Fawxes had been alive at the present day, he would have been so disgusted with Parliamentary Trains, and trains of all kinds, as carried out Sees railways, that he never would have trusted his life to one, thou ise of going off with the quickn | of gunpowder, on the ae orable Fina of N ne ee ere Ratiway 81 .— Si : i in AY SIGNALS ignal Extortion, § Extortion, Signal Neglect, and Signal

r-) regu- | lating the traffic almost He peor | Wh udiously “de Your art eetwait take’ up the Kensington Read, by Hyde |,

A LEGAL LAMENT, (FOR THE MORROW OF ALL SOULS). By a QC. of long standing, *T1s the first day of Term, and the Lawyers awaken ; wigs have been aired, aut gowns have been shaken ; P t acation through oe he anew ; attorneys are trotting about ; judges are mustering ; a .- are blustering ; front seats are hustling ; silk are a-rustling ; had os aad withdraw— vy hearts are there | & load of care ! we met for business last, ll cot a penne, —— oa w’s delay, rules to plead away ; with a swee blow, aut isto. Jous Dok eee ICHARD Rok ! pleasant Be of the Law, black-letter forms august— hat availed your TE webs—your venerable rust ? quining taal chal bind no more ; no more your quibbles rare reg can split a hair : Justice shall beard Chicane, And Form, in Form’s old stron gho! shall ’gainst Merits plead i in vain ; Till as in the County Courts, Law, in her own defence, Shall from her high calling to the depths of Common Sense ! Shall show in into how many E’en in the shadow of the ELECTRICITY PERVERTED. Tue Electric Telegraph—commu- nicating direct from Cornhill to the cen- tre of Paris—was for the first time worked on the Ist instant, The ex- periments were complete: the do- minated lightning did its errands with electric truth. Bat, why—we ask it—why send the lightning upon a shabby mes fe, making of it the time a aed hant to the arch aoor, Saas = ae the man who has “ restored society 7, yas French hearths ? Here is the message: and the lightning— Loman byte caning angel—must have blushed its reddest as it gave rit fa: in: The Directors of the Submarine Telegraph Company beg leave to approach his Highness the Prince Present with the expression of their best thanks for the assistance which he has uniformly given towards the establishment of this instanta- neous means of communication between France and Great Britain. May this wonderful invention serve, under the Empire, to promote the peace and prosperity of the world!” “ Under the Empire ! ” Well, it is all right. 5 Sho disegiane of the Submarine Ls we bh Company” have acknowledged the Empire ; the pony hat and don bin erown 0 yon oe ae eice ek Sesegrage folks, Hag and manufacturers of British Champagne ave revolved —- in their adhesion to tning to the despot of ? e Wal, be yy of —- us ho never compel us ~ nae a three-deckers, A Sail and a Sell. follow the lighting at Cocakill rth the th Ir is a very lamentable fact that whenever a Government screw steamer mpd Le ay pete epey) It cannot be said builders play the game of fast and loosé, for however loose the Saee the dane o generally anything but ‘fast.

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4 SAGE CE Stee Dee eee at oe ° Fe : . m cl | gas i Ne A \ if! ! 2 ' 3 ; \e ox |] ‘ “Vert, Josern, I Likes London Toolman, condescendingly But I pon’t LAKe Your HAtkY; AND YOU ’VE LOTS OF REWINS. DERBY AND DIZZY AT ASTLEY’S. CHANCELLOR OF THe Excuequer in the arena at Astley’s? If not, let them lose no time, but go and see the sight. These eminent statesmen | act a wonderful feat called La Perche ; although they apwest under the assumed titles of the Broruers Stecrriep and speak broken English, as if they were Germans. _La Perche is an extraordinary exhibition; and perhaps it was never given to any two men save to Dersy and to Disaak.i to go through with : it. 4 some eighteen or twenty feet. This pole he supports in a loop of some sort in his waistband. The pole isa smooth pole without cut or notch. DrsraB ut, chalking his shoes—(what would become of the Exchequer without the use of chalk?)—lays hold upon the pole, and by the adroit use of his hands and feet alone, climbs to the very top—Dexsr staggering a little, it must be owned, uoder the weight. is nothing. When Drsrarxt has arrived at the top of the pole, what marvellous tricks he acts! He lies down, his stomach on the top of the pole, and whilst thus, round and round even as weathercock turns with the wind. He then, one hand holding the pole and the sole of one foot planted flat at the side of it, stands out from the pole. Next Disragtr makes himself like unto a snake, and turns round and round the ‘pole; and great, indeed, is the applause that attends all the attention to these sinuosities, that, of course, attract nearly Disxaeti—poor Denny, who has to bear the pole and with it to bear| event of leakage—there will be at least one powerful wd tricks of BensaMin, perspiring, all but unnoticed, under his | We advise everybody to witness the exhibition as soon as many nights, and to be very ticklish. OTe \ia 3 ANUDADANTANAADNNUL SCENE—A PUBLIC-HOUSE, BURY ST. EDMUND’S, AFTER THE DINNER GIVEN BY THE MAYOR OF BURY TO THE LORD MAYOR OF LONDON. Country Footman meekly inquires of London Footman, “Pray, Sik, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF OUR Town? A NICE PLACE, atn’t 17?” ] y mq | Have any of our readers yet beheld the Paiwe Mrvister and the lewal | MR. | alluded to. Imagine Derny holding perpendicularly a long tapering pole of | may be, it is expected that the proprietor of one of + largest wine- But yet this | voyage be compelled to carry a Lord of the Admiralty they | may; for bets are offered that Disraext will not be able to keep it up | 14h November, 1852. Tue Time-tables fur October will be ready in Dersy has been heard to declare his own condition 210 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL | ULL Mile P 7 e/ cuaTErta | YOUR TOWN WELL ENOUGH. IT’s CLEAN; YOUR STREETS ARE CHAMPAGNE; IT’s ALL GewsBeRRy.” THE BAR AND ITS PROSPECTS. WE understand that, acting upon seageetions thrown out from high uarters that local bars should be formed, it is contemplated by Herurcess to endeavour to restore the ancient Court of pie poudre, which is an old court for the settlement of disputes arising at a fair or public market. Clare Market has been spoken of as the spot on which the new experiment may be tried, and a meeting has already taken place— accidentally—between Mr. Bareritess and Mr. Donor on the subject The oot of the learned gentlemen is supposed to be the | formation of a rep r bar at the spot in question. As there must be ‘accommodation for robing, however small the attendance of counsel | vaults will be requested to set apart a private his bar, for the convenience of the bar attending the sittings, or rather the standings | of the pie poudre Court. Official Pumps. | THe mishaps on board the Melbourne, which was uatil recently a | Government steamer, prove the manner in which the “ public service ” is provided for as far as ship-building is concerned. Toe leakage was so formidable at one time that the safety of the vesse! was doubtful, and it was necessary to keep all the pumps at work. We beg leave to offer as a suggestion, that all Government ships should on their first as then—in the Pump on board. An Advertisement for the Waterloo Station. | la few days. Great exertions are being used to ensure the pu | of the November Time-tables before Christmas.

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sty SEAN | gee ARN NN ih” ay Mui Se, f . , (| EATING THE LEEK. Fivetten . . MR. COBDEN. Pisto. . . MR. DISRAELI. Fluellen. “I pray you rate 10; Ir you can Mock a Legw, rou can Eat a Leew.”—Hen. V. Novemser 13, 1852.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. 213 HYMEN V. PLUTUS; OR, THE CURE FOR DEPOPULATION. answer ; doubtless they what to say for themselves in backing out of Protection, for that. Should they, eventually, come for- ward with amy scheme for the main- tenance of our native stock, it will nee consist in the imposition C em xed daty upon foreign im the meanwhile, various inde- pendent members will be ad- fancying himself a practical man, will suggest the entire prohibition of medical treatment, Anything rather than the remédy which is straightforward and obvious—because that — would be a pleasant one: your legislators will go any -about way to avoid a plain and direct course that is agreeable. The obvious and straightforward remedy is the encouragement of matrimony. Statistics amply demonstrate the ratio between the number of births and that of marriages, which, indeed, forms the basis of fe Maruvsian theory, on the converse whereof you will now have to leai Let there, then, be passed an Act of Parliament for the Promotion of Wedlock. Have it couched, if ‘possible, in grammatical terms: in plain English; so that the si man who runs may read, and halt, and + +y- home, and become the father of a happy family ! By t visions of this enactment, A double Income Tax shall be imposed upon all Bachelors of more than twenty-five years of age. Four years of discretion ought certainly to be allowed for such an important matter as the choice of a wife. Bachelors of above sixty shall not be allowed to evade this tax oF marrying, as many of them would do who havé remained single all their lives simply to shirk the expense of a wife, No Bachelor shall | be suffered to defeat the intention of the Act by marrying a lady more than thirty : if any so old a lady exists. — A bonus, out of the taxes levied under this Act, shall be paid to pee ay te who re-marries. It would be too much © require an has once been married to again, because he has, mos unmarried, marrying under that age. Marriage Settlements shall be done away with; numerous fine young men who would | lots of —if ti since there are adly marry any nice girl with | decorations, | ducive to the beautifying, embelli | feminine person: with a view to the total and the burdens on attractive industry tending to procure husbands. shall be all prohibited, in order that | the young men, if.thes wish to dance, may be forced to and dance in { ‘ it , and can 7 = aw, ae there is a probability of their being intro- shall be instituted under the direction of the Home to ; have been | too much occupied in devising | i on ladies. Respect always be allowed y which it may confidently be will live, years ? To which I answer, that in times to come— Times of moré equal lots and gentler laws— The workers may not seek, in vain, his tomb Who pleaded, once, so movingly their cause. if file mark the soldi statesman’s grave, monuments adorn ts plans of sleep . Whose hand struek off the fetters from the slave, And his who sought out woé in dungeon’s deep, Did Ae not fight for Toil’s sad sons and daughters ? Was not Azs voice loud for the worker’s right ? Was Ae not potent to arrest the slaughters Of Capital and Labour’s desperate fight ? Oh! mothers, think of his melodious pity Over the victim of the Bridge of Sighs— Oh! Almoners of the o’er-crowded city, Think of the shirt-maker’s heart-piercing cries ! You, too, whose lighter hearts turned from such themes, ho sought his page for smiles and not for tears, Think of his wit, how pure and bright its gleams, Mocking the sadness of his later years : And say, if Hoop should moulder into dust ithout a stone to mark his of rest— Whose fiercest scorn ne’er sought a mark unjust, Whose sharpest wit-shaft ne’er pained living breast ? HAMPTON COURT ON SUNDAYS, ' ‘ H 5 He Tae Dexsy Prorazcy.—The ground diction, that the Deluge would sueceed Lonp Dexsy, may be found i consideration that Protectionist notions are antediluvian.

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rrarmeptensemmainint ahacertnn vis ee SoS aa Saag oe eee oes yee ; Ressrens we Faaistaas Seeinicyrtbtier NII et Rea ae to 214 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVART A BANQUET OF CIVIC SHADES. From the notebook of Mz, Durury Waurers. My name’s Peter W. I’m one of the Salters, and a deputy, too, | So, at six we all met, and, as usual, sharp set, and I haven’t the least for the good ward of hesitation in saying And I’ve t such a story to set down before ye, as shall make all the On the landlord’s rich fare, with the best of ’em there, all the evening flesh on your bodies to creep ; a good knife and fork I’d been playing. For Bos Brows of Budge Row, little Atpermaw Swow, and two or | But no anther how clever, one can’t eat for ever, so we let the cloth go, three more of our choice civic blades, and the claret cup came As we hadn’t a feast at Guildhall, t! t t the least we could do would And Bos Baows says, says he, “ Why this chalice to me looks better be snugly to dine at “ The Shades.” by far than the Mayor of that name!” Well, in course we all laughed, as the tankard we quaffed, and I jast | Little cloaks, with big sleeves—hauberks, gauntlets, and greaves closed my eyes as I do when amused, palmers” hats with broad eaves jutting out on each side ; But when next I looked up for a glimpse of that cup, by the change in | Ladies’ hoods, with a horn the fair brow to adorn; slashed "doublets the scene I was fairly confused. with ribands of all colours tied ; In Guildhall quite forlorn I was sitting, for gone were my friends, | Murrey gowns, and green frocks, stockings woven with clocks, haut de every one, and had left in their places, chausses richly worked and prodigiously wide ; Knights, dames, and esquires, clerks, merchants, and priors, black, Robes—old as Quezw Guineven—of ermine and miniver, on all sides grey, and white friars, with quaint solemn faces, met my gaze, while instead of Bos Brown, In such garments arrayed, that I instantly said, as half pleased, half | Was a little old chap, with a pen in his cap, and an inkhorn attached afraid, I looked round on them all to the band of his gown. “ How blithe would be Ham or Moses to buy ’em, if they could as a| “Servant, Sir! You must know,” he observed, “I am Stow: your | spec’ for the next Polish Ball.’’ comrades, Sir, stuck to it while they were ‘able, Shoes with long peaky toes fastened up to the hose, or the breeches | So did you, I’ve no ‘doubt, for when Strypr found you out, you were of those whom they threatened to lame ; caddled up—fast asleep—under the table : Caps, like turrets, so lofty—they bad to be doffed, I could see, to the Nay! don’t |ook askance, by a fortunate chance, you have met with a | door as each proud wearer came ; man than whom none ever came r. pS a’ feos) ny ek aa Near the sound of Bow Bell, better able to tell of all that pertains to | Of young Kwow zs’ behind ;—on his tombstone we find it expressly the City’s fair fame; declared that his loving wife bore See! there’s WurrrincTon there, at the top in the chair, and his lady, Nineteen children in fear. Does that last word seem queer? "T'was in Miss Auice Frrzwarrey, our hostess is ”— fear lest they ever should have any more. “Good gracious ! ‘ » I Lowy as the real truth I spied, “ It’s a party of | Parrence Warp, too, in story yclept London’s glory; though he lived citizen ghostés and ghostesses! ”’ after me, I can tell you his shade is, Never oy my a= then my neighbour replies, “Then there’s | For the toils and the pains he endured in the reigns of James, ARD, who with him the talk is pursuing so, Wi.taM, and Awys, much respected in He er had at L 1; y= great monarchs at least, and s-ver required | And eal cherubs forlorn, A ay his tomb still adorn in Abchurch, have or 80. reason, Then there’ s KNowLgzs, too, who willed all the money to build all this | With their *kerchiefs of stone (all the garments they own) to wipe beantifal Guildhall and left a whole corps marble ti tears from their cheeks full of woe.

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PUNCH, OR And with these do a dare men like yours tocompare? Why, you’ve not got an now who’s at all worth Our Fastan, the writer, or Brawsen, the fighter, not to speak of the fishmonger, stout Wriuiam Watworta.” “Gans “ye don’t be prosy |” exclaimed a great rosy Lord Prior hitherto, scarcely had spoken | “ Of the ‘ S * Henne of the Tein in Aldgate, while in it, I was Prior, and | too, of Portsoken A strange jumble, you'll say, of ieeferment, but aye every priest i in| the race for ee ie aD | Change the age the name, still t teeling’ s the same in Secemas| Breaxksrear or Nicuoras Wiseman.” Then, “ You mean, Sir, I hear,” said a Mayor who sat near, “for this Hall to beg statues. They’ re very much needed ; [ myself in my day: had a taste in that way.”—“ Pooh ! That’s Viner,” Stow, “ pray do better than he did, For the group which he bought for the Stocks Market Court, and called Cuarzes with old OLtver making short work, In a stoneyard he found, where "twas known to ail round, as JOHN Sosreski destroying a Turk. Here Srrypez shouted ‘Come ! Stow, for Porz, Miutow, Deror, Cuavcer, Coterinee, and Lams, have got up a deba'e, As to who shall sit first ;—K’er it comes to the worst, pray hasten the proper precedence to state!” Now [’d not said a word until now, but I heard with such shame that these fellows had cards for the dinners, That I cried “ Pray! what jobs have admitted such snobs ? true civic arts you are surely beginners ; In the What is Looming in the Future. hy at ng mong Fag mew 8 loom may be like, nor what | kind of work he has mn ustrio weaving out of it, but we| imagine that it will be something pr 4 the ~ £. of PEwELore’ s affected. One of the most precious was the broken oath of Louis that sabre- blood: oom, and that on the opening night he will proceed to take to Ler mand Em the skal, with = deep cut in it, of Liberté—the > all his beautiful work o Protection, undoing all be had previously done in that =z. After which he will busy himself, let us hope, in filli up the hollow framework with some rich design of Free Trade, such a8 shall make the mouths of all poor men water to look at it. Op Patcu.—The great naval architect who builds all the Ships fi the Admiralty. "7 THE LONDON CHARIY ARI ing a8 Here the whole of the ite monks near him looked grave in amaze- ment at hearing the truth from their Prior, miped to chesk it, turned round to a Aad Tromas A Becket, determ: waiter, ‘him ing ee me io Ge te Rete An 3 FE if applied to the Prior, of recaicitration ; ie ent ow | And p+ called out, “Have we Lollards about? springen som cockle now in our clene corne, “ Let bim kepe to his hawking and feasting, for ta talking of truths ina Prior wol nat be yborne.” Bit ‘i es Zi As reporters, perhaps, we might let in such chaps, but,”—I’d better have pondered awhile ere I spoke : Such a shindy arose; Mriron’s fist to my nose came at once, and Devor’s my best spectacles broke ; While Pops stamped on my corn, Cuavcen flung a full horn of liquor all over my new satin vest, (It was P say the stains won’t come away), but CoLeRipGE toneaiiaed A more than the rest, ‘ Sel Ms setg L\ ica °f€ a = For he bm sg on my ear, and compelled me to hear an oration so long, thougut that my wife Must e aan her \ecture, and Faith! my conjecture didn’t prove | very wrong, for | woke, on my life, Lying dressed on my bed, with such pains in my head, and a great streak of soup down my deputy’s gown; And my cou quite falters, for 1 know Mus. Wavrens has heard the whole trath from that horrid Bos Brown. Abd-el Kader at the Madeleine, Asp-81-Kaper has visited the Madeleine, where were exhibited | many precious relics by the priests, ‘with which he was duly Narogow, ina phial of very good spirits, Among the relics were, soaked blouse of Egalité—and the heart, with a musket-ball in it, of Fraternité / A SUBJECT FOR sCAKUTINY. tT is a remarkable fact which has lately been recognised in the pulling of steam-vessels, that the power of more than a hundred | horses may be centred in a single screw.

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/ — PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI A PROTECTIONIST PALINODE To be said or sung to the “ Manes” of a Great Statesman, BY THE MINISTERIAL LEADER IN THE COMMONS, Foreivs, wrong’d Shade, the temporary sneer ; Forgive the futile taunt, and gibe, and jest ; Forgive the wish—whilst thou didst lmger here— That will not now, 1 hope, disturb thy rest. Alas! I own I had an eye to Place That hadst thou granted, *twould have been all right : And I should ne’er have suffered the disgrace Of saying what | have to say to-night. Thy policy was just, and good, and wise, tn that thou didst untax the Nation’s food : And it was only from a wi rise, That I thy noble statesmanship withstood. For six long years an empty fight I’ve fought, For all that time I’ve play’d a hollow game ; And now at last I've gained the rize I sought, I must recant—or resign the same. a mp I gaveaty bore ed ee ‘© realms wing moon nose, And trustful Farmers with my fine aeds fed— Food | must eat myself, now, I suppose. Yes; round wren my bumpkins I must turn, The fury of their disappointment brave, My explanations whilst, perhaps, they spurn, And call me humbug, turncoat, rogue, and knave, Rat, weathercock, apostate, and Jim Crow, Jupas, perchance—such epithets were thme — Thou to thy geese couldst quietly say “ Boh!” But dare I answer so the hiss of mine ? For thou didst but thy country’s good pursue, *T was not thy aim alone at power to clutch.— Had I, till now, such simple end in view ? I only wish that I could say as much! — ~ late atonement, injured Shade, All my hostility to thee was Sham : Protection I renounce; confess Free Trade, And grant that I have taught the farmers Bam ! A BENJAMIN WITH TWO SIDES. We have seen advertised a new coat under the title of “‘ an upper Ben- jamin with two sides.” It professes to be a kind of coat to do double duty —or two coats rolled into one. It is smooth outside, and rough within. The smooth side is for the sun, for Regent Street, for the Park, for the race-course—@ll those places where “ a fashionable exterior ” (io quate the choice phraseology of the tailor) is requisite. The rough is for the rain, for outside the omnibus, for the Horticultural Fates, for Vauxhall, for a visit to ire, or any other p where showers are most | abundant. We do not know how far this economical combination may | coats is Free le. That is answer—or whether the sensation of turning your coat, after it has done raining, is an agreeable one to the skin, but we must say, we should not exactly like ving, ® Pilot, that has just been ring the storm, and © uently is ing wet, hanging as » * rheumatic band roun' y. It t be recommended by the hydropathie Faculty, but as we are not so fond of ing about with wet clothes, like an animated clothes-horse, we should decidedly prefer having a separate coat for rainy weather, instead of a double coat like this Benjamin, which would, probably, double one up in a very short time with the rheumatism. But we think we know a Bewsamin that, also, has two sides. This BznJaMin, too, will turn his coat at the shortest notice. When he is in he is smooth enough, but when he is out he is so rough that those vee ener poe cape vith a fall im for a goed y share of hard rubs. ese two are extremely convenien e present ministry can testify, for what would they be without that BensaMun P? One of the } ' iat is only one in fing weather, when the sun in Downing Street is shining full upon Ministers. But directly | things begin to look a little black, the coat is turned immediately, and they come out then with a bearish, roughish coat—a kind of wrap- | rascal—which is their suit of Protection. In this way, they c 2 hange their coat according to t , and are prepared at a moment's notice for any turn that may take place in the political atmosphere. At everything looks fine promising, the side of Free Trade mk Hiswsters is eet ie we all know that Protection lurks underneath, and that they B t se in the least, if a good breeze came on which was likely to i fayour, to turn round to that side. / y We may expect this coat to be in gemeral use at the opening of Parliament, or at all events, the CasNceELLOR OF THE ExcHEQuER is sure to come out with it in great style, ¥ to show off its ¢wo-fold uses to the greatest advantage. - In fact, it is a matter of great doubt tered proprietor, inveator, and god- © Supzs. in our minds, if he is not the r father of this Bensamin with “MAIDSTONE VERSUS MACAULAY !” © smal) a poet is Lonp Mazpstoge, that he is searcely visible to the naked eye: but the “ lest of things be the irritable. C Did not the tamed t per a Dus submit 9 ¥ v inseet—no acknowledged in i to the test of a ssigroecoge | irritating , the afore- insect rposes acience, fcr eta ers ee Se ugh i i } tracting even as of a gi gee Gassexpus did to that ‘inlees little creature, Mm. Macavigy has done to poet MarpsTows : e ‘- io pone at t art, even as 1s ¢ ts) ngland. Peg however, unlike the victim of Gassenpvus, and like Onson in the fairy tale, Marpstowe is endowed with reason ; and therefore he takes to himself a pen, and with it pricks away at the oratorical historian and M.P. for Edinburgh. Mazpstowe says—and no doubt Macavutay trembles—“‘In the meantime ‘Gare a qui me touche /*™ or, in plain English, “ Beware who touctes me.” ‘This is 9 very awful warning, but then, Lory Marpstowe must peresive that such warning may apply as well to weasels as to lions. JUSTICE AT BATH. Lx our last number but one, we felicitated Sram James Rivers, Bart., on the luck that brought him before a Bath Bench, charged with violent assaults, instead of finding himself in the presence Mr. Harpwick. je, moreover, condemned the - Bath istracy for taking money of the Baronet, in lieu of pa him for awhile to gaol. It seems that the Metropolitan Act alone enables —— magis- trates to do this; county and city Magistrates elsewhere can only fine, and in default of payment, imprison. Thus, we would advise Siz James Revers to ponder well ere he tempts the dangers of London. In the Metropolis, a “ gentleman” given to assaults may in the House of Correction with his hair cropped. But m county of at, there would be a difference even with Sommrsst. “Go to Bath get your bead shaved,” does not apply to Baronets who railway servants and policemen. A Bishop in a Gig! Ma. 8. G. Oszonyz wi have Gi Disbove | ene * i in ig! W me wishes jo hae tie i ti phon 4 8 b ten thousand per aupum into no more hundred a year; the hundreds al custapning tie © ina Gig! Why, we shall next hear of a whole coat ! A LONG SITTING, Srr Haxry [vert has calculated that, to the opening of the present Parliament, the Speaker has sat in his chair “no less than 13,000 hours!” ‘Terrible to think that, after such sittings, so very little has been hatched. The Spirit of the Tablet Is manifesting his approval of persecution as practised by the Tuscan tyrant, Mr. Lucas pa a wpeter! ame by his “ ecclesiastical superiors” to have gone—for the present, at least—a little too far; and they will accordingly desire him to draw im his horns. But what will be the use of his drawing in his horns, now that everybody his cloven foot ? E E himself |

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PUNCH. OR THE LO NDON CHARIVARI. ABD-EL-KADER, CAPTIVITY OF Axsp-EL-Kapep ? not his old, chivalrous champion have pity on him, and release him from his present con- dition ? 6 was, as- suredly, in asad plight in the Chateau d’ Amboise; but surely he has been in a more pitiable fix at St. Cloud and the Tuileries. It was bad enough to be captive to the broken faith of old Lovurs Pui.irre, gone to settle many accounts of that sort; but it is infinitely worse to the Emir, more degrading to him, to sing the praises and kiss the hand of the forsworn tyrant who at this hour tramples on the French nation; the nation, we raat, exhibiting no great reluctance to be so footed. " “ May you live as long as the sun!” cries AzD-z1-K per, in all the latitude of Eastern hyperbole. “I give you this sword,” answers the tadpole vo pery “apd therefore I know you Will never draw it against me; for did not the French give me their confidence, and did I misuse it?” “An oath is a solemn thing: it binds like bonds of steel !” cries the Emir, without a smile upon his face. “It is—it does,” makes answer Louis Napo.zon, who does xof thrust his tongue in his cheek. And thus the poor Emir slavers the Emperor that is to be—and the Emperor rejoices in the —— Again, we cry, will nobody release ABD-EI-Kaper? Whatho! A Lospowperry to the rescue! THE EMPIRE OF BEADLEDOM. HONOURED BY THE ADMIRALTY. We take the following gratifying intelligence from the Herald. It will be read with a spasm of pleasure throughout the merchant service : “Mr. Pexwy, late commander of the Lady Franklin and Sophia, has been honoured by the Duke ov NosTHumper.anD with an interview, and has received a gratifying Seasd oe kamavette:” own services aud of those under his command from the present Mr. Psewxy being only Merchant-captain Pewwy, having no epaulets upon his shoulders, but simply brains schooled by long experience in his head, was t with the most contemptuous neglect, all his counse! di i be so wise and true—by t Avstriw returns home, having done nothing except “ merchant skipper, and is thereupon appcinted to a most lucrative post at Southam At length, however, the skipper is rewarded. Yes; he is di for life “with an interview” of the First Lord of the Admiralty ; and receives “a gratifying acknowledgment of his ser- vices |” by what means, may we ask, comes the acknowledgment ? By ay word of mouth, or has skipper Penny anything tangible to show for it! Tue release of Bex Sipi—commonly known as Seedy Bew—the crossing-sweeper, has raised in the breast of that Eastern | scavenger a degree of gratitude towards the Beadle, which has some- | thing quite romantic in its character. Considering the determined | enemy that Seedy Ben has always proved himself towards the Arcade | and its Gorerement, the devotion he now shows for the Beadle is quite | remarkable. The has again dined with the Beadle, who, as | Seedy Bew was about to retire, put into his hands a new broom. The Lasear was deeply affected, and hung round the gold lace of the Beadle’s | collar—in the tern fashion—for several minutes. “I give you this | broom,” said the Beadle, “because I know you will never use it to| sweep a for the enemies of the Arcade.” Seedy Bew appeared | very anxious to make the Beadle understand that a car’s word is | as good as his bond—in black and white—and he pointed alternately to | his raven hair and his snowy petticoat. Kissing the broom, he declared | tbat he would never make it a handle for hostility to the Beadle, “ and,”’ | added Seedy Bem, “rather than I would sweep a passage for your! enemies, | would go and scour the wide worldalone.” The Lascar has | visited the Opera Arcade, where he was accommodated with a seat in the private box—the well known watchbox about halfway down, and | nearly opposite the hairdresser’s. This had the happiest effect. The presents given by the Beadle on the occasion of his visit to the | Temple of Apollo were very numerous. To Miss Resecca, who| recited “ Le Beadledom c'est le Pay,” he presented his autograph on a blank bill-stamp. To Sicwor Jouwsow1n1, the celebrated Gutta Percha contortionist, tobacco pipe in the possession of his uncle, Buwste I. The bow! was filled for the occasion with a costly liqueur, in which Sicwor Joun- SONINI drank the health of the e, while an attendant whistled the pops melody of “ Drown it in the bowl.” To Soaxey Sruvens, the! well-known comic singer of the Temple of Apollo, the Beadle gave— his hand, in a most condescending manner. The artist shook it with much cordiality. The effect was excellent. A Ticklish Point. | “FarexD Puncu,—There is one point which is peculiarly caleulated | an ex to ‘wound the just susceptibilities of a foreign nation,’ particularly in the event of its making a descent on our shores. [ mean the point of the British bayonet. Had we not better give up that point, and receive apy enemies who may come to invade us with no other weapons than open arms? What sayest thou hereon to « NWenpy Gari?” gave a handsome bowi—formerly belonging to a ———— an a Old Gentleman. “1 want some sHaviNG soar, my Goop Lap.” Boy. “Yus, Sim. Hene’s a Harticte I can necommenn, vor I ALWAYS use IT Myseir!” At the late anti-Puseyite meeting at the Freemason’s Tavern, the Rev. Cawow Stowe 1 is reported to have said “ Such a man as Ma. Parywz, who would compel a young lad and lick the sign of the cross, on the sand-besprinkled floor, ou the Church,” to kneel before him it to be hoeoted out of Whether Mz. Prywwe was guilty of the act imputed to him or nots the fellow, whoever he might be, that could do so filthy a thing as to make a lady lick the floor, would certainly deserve to be rewarded with y good licking himself. Q. How much does the Cup of Glory hold ? ; A, It varies. With the Chartist, it holds six pints; with Louis | Napo.zoy, an Imperial measure. VOL, XXITI.

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airy veh tH Tashan cence ier e ont aon Apts ghia + i ft 3

218 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL

person was there.” Finding there was no person there, he | PRIZE ESSAY BY AN EXTENSIVE PEACE-MAKER. | went to bed again with the e conviction that it was only an earthquake. : a, SR AD 1s E ought to regard all| The reasoning faculties of those who felt the shock seem ’* mankind as our cus-| to have been rather oddly affected, for the logic displayed tomers, and accord-|on the occasion is of the very lowest order. For instance : ingly should be polite |“ A manufacturer, feeling his*bed shake, came to the con- to everybody, even to | clusion that a servant in a room above had been seized with our enemies, and pre- | 4 fit.” Why he should havedrawn such an inference is not pare to give them, in | very clear to us, but, finding himself mistaken, he admitted case they should in- | bis error, and ounced the affair to have been a case of | vade us, a civil re-|earthquake. Even the dogs are oa in as witnesses, ception, instead of a and the fact that some dogs trembled is cited-as a proof military one. (of this mild earthquake, which seems to have announced If an armed foree | itself by shaking curtains, imitating the sound of a jumping were to attack us, | cat, swinging beds, stoppig a watch, intimidating a few our right course |dogs, and loosening the limbs of an unfortunate corres- would be to disarm | pondent who had been already sent to Jericho. them by submission, | and then we should | —————————— perhaps be enabled | A COUNTRYMAN AT CAMBRIDGE. to buy their arms at | a bargain, and, having | bought the weapons I went unto Cambridge my nevvy to see, for less than their A studying at College to take his degree ; And in that endeavour I’m sure he won’t fail, Because they do drink such remarkable ale. worth, go and sell them for more to the | They brew a good liquor at Burton-on-Trent, Wherewith I at one time was — — ;

~=

Kaffirs. War is only theft | - Bat, seeing the tap which in Cam find, There ’s nothing inferior will equal my mind. on the large scale. Thieves are but in- vaders of society. We tae ee sm itveton| Xour bitter ale ’» very good physic and bark, a to name a + — 8 —ae remark, ut cheurist nor rae Gachetlend can’t compound to repel an invasion of our tills than a descent upon our shores. Therefore we should not only disband As the beer which in doth greatly abowud. our Militia but our Poliee. It would be advisable to post placards, reminding young men disposed toventer the constabulary of the maims and bruises to which policemen are liable in the execution of their duty, and pointing out to them that a Canwon’s fist and heelsumay be as formidable as the cannon’s mouth. The colds, coughs, and rheumatisms,to-which a policeman is ex on his beat should also be adverted to: and every»possible argument u tending to deter men from undertaking the defence of»our strong-boxes and spoons, articles which are not very much more valuable our wives and daughters. The blue cloth is as objectionable as thered,andewe ought all to be clothed in one uniform of drab.

WHAT CONSTITUTES AN FARTHQUAKE. For Warrsreap’s Entire they who like it | & And some may prefer BARCLAY, Perkins, an ¥! it’s the process which follows that they cannot bring wateh, and finding that it is half-past 4, Te supplies further evidence of an | themselves to—viz., the Washing. earthquake. | Another gentleman in Toxteth Park finds his bed swinging like a cradle, and — .xED “some people next door jumped out of bed”—a piees of neighbourly sympathy | , _— . : , there is some difficulty in accounting for. Nevertheless, it all goes to prove an| THE French Committee, in thereport on the Constitu- earthquake. tion, observe that their country is “taxed with frivolity.” Ma. Cuapauny “heard a noise as if a heavy person was walking across the room. France will be fortunate if the Empire shall involve no He raised himself in bed at once,” and wrote to the papers to confirm the rumour heavier taxation. of —eee. . a, Woop seems to have been in a most absurd state of mind. The wooden | rings on his bed rattled. His first impression was that “a boy, who slept overhead, | 4 ‘Heavy Ghurchmen. had fallen out of bed.” But his next impression was that there had been an| It is an unfortunate thing for the Crystal Palace Com- earthquake. y, that the Sabbatarian crusade against them is. headed Cartan Greic, head constable, “heard his earthenware shaken about and) by Arcupgzacon Haze. ‘They will fiod the venerable | rattled. He got up, fancying some one had broken into the house, called up the| gentleman a weighty opponent, loaded :as he is with man on duty at the station, and examined the roof of the building to see that no/ responsibilities in the shape of preferments.

The only Female Reign of France. “Here are your Pine Old Prejudices!" | Ir is very singular the small number of foreigners,

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PI THEATRE ROYAL, WESTMINSTER. BY OUR SLASHING CRITIC. HIS national establishment re-| opened for the season on Thursday | night with the comedy of Know | Your Own Mind, and a \ittle original | after-piece called Quite Disgusted ; | or, Sibby's St tons. The house | was: weil filled, despite the un-| favourable weather. Am address was previously de- | livered, which had been written by Mz. Dizzy, one of the managers. Its success was decidedly owing to the admirable manner in which it was spoken. It was impossible not | to regret that the exquisite skill! and grace with which it was given | should have been bestowed upon a composition every way unworthy of | such advantages, and it is really | from a feeling of respect to the illustrious artist who spoke this address, that we abstain from coupling the speech with a name justly endeared to the public. As soon as the | ear had ceased to be gratified with the finished delivery of the address, and the eye began to criticise it in print (copies were to be had in the house), it was impossible not to see that it wasa shallow and futile affair, in which periods, and not ideas, were balanced, in which | information was sought for in vain. We also regret to add that the house was badly li , and that when the lights were turned on, the glasses cracked. flew im all directions. Tne slamming of the box | —— even during the address, was highly disgraceful even to | | a ially negligent servants at this theatre. comedy commenced: at the unusually early hour of five o’cloek, | but was.not over until pastnine. We decidedly recommend Messrs. Densy and Dizzy to cut it. The first of the piece was s by | two youngactors, new to London boards. One of them, Mz. Lovanye, comes from the Northumberland theatre, where he recently superseded an old and valuab'eartist, Mz. G. Grey, to the dissatisfaction of all who know what acting properly means. The other, Mz. Eczxtow, is | unknown, but appears to have talent. The showy uniforms worn by | both were very inap a. These actors produced a tolerable effect in the scene where, both being supposed to advocate the same cause, they flatly contradicted each other. The prompter seemed wanting to} his duty in this part of the performance. The veteran VILLIERS was | good as ever as Marplot, and elicited loud applause when he denounced | the humbug of Vivian Grey ; and he displayed a certain resolution | which delighted the audience. Mr, WaLroie went through the heavy | | part of Wheed/e with conscientiousness, but clearly does not understand | a joke. We were sorry to see Mu. J. Russexi underact the important | character of Plweky, in which he used to be excellent—the scene | where he might have done so much, when walking into the cabinet, | was very tame, and though he er warmed up for the fog joke, | his point was mist. Dizzx of course played Vivian Grey, | but it was rumoured in the house that he had not expected to perform that evening, and we would not, therefore, be hard on his short- | comings; the bit where he taunts Plucky with his inconsistency was given with the old spirit, but he seemed obliged to keep close to the | flats, and was by no means at.ease. Maz. GLapston®, as the well- | meaning Hairsplit, was polished as ever, and the pleasantries of Young | Tomahawk \ost none of their point in the hands of Mz. Osponyz. Mr. CHRISTOPHER was very as the bewildered clod-hopper, and his | penitence, and “ bowing,” in order to keep bis place, were deliciously | true to nature. Cospen, in the Cotton Farmer, played closely and | tellingly, and his concluding menace was very effective. A new | actor, named Batt, has the manner of a Methodist preacher, which, however, suited well with the part of Crock, but he was too tedious over his papers, beside blundering the real point about his corn, which Croak foolishly fancies Marplot has trodden on, whereas it is his own clumsiness that hurts him. Bat did not see this, we think. We) must add that the tag was capitally spoken by Mu. PaLmenstos, who was loudly applauded for the capital humour with which he acknowledged the perfect frankness of Vivian and Wheedle, but gently intimated that he shoudd like to know what they meant. The fault of the play is the deficiency of female interest, but the old women were well personated by those stock artists, NswpreaTs and ADDERLEY. | _—f terror at the supposed goblin, Cheaploaf, was very anile and natural. The after-piece, Quite Disgusted, was a mere monologue by Mx. Sis- THORP, and, we believe, his own composition. It was delivered with | much earnestness and intensity, and for those who like broad | buffoonery, will doubtless have its attraction, but we should suggest | its taking its natural place in the Christmas pantomime, as it evidently | INCH. OR, THE LONDON CHARIVARL. | which Mts. Bizz 9 - 19 parse 9 either to Clown or Pantaloon, or both. Several hands were during its progress, but it did not seem to strike the gallery. The next novelty will be a farce, called The Budget, to be followed, le, by a piece de circonstance, entitled The Sack, in | is said to have a fine exit. It also contains a monster chorus Y ae eee oad -y thay did our Master sell us?” startling novelty, id in ing Street, bas also been under consideration, but is not yet underlined. SIBTHORP IMMUTABLE! Cam we express our satisfaction on the part of our country and | ourselves,,at again meeting with CoLowg. SistHorr unc and unch. as the Great Pyramid? Dersy may quail, Diseagi | adroitly succumb; but Srstrnore “ declares that in and soul he | isa t!” Indeed we should mourn for human mutability | could our Colonel change : let other weaker men yield to reason and to common sense—but let our Colonel live and die invulnerable to their | influence; clowed, shut up in Protection, asa crocodile is shut up in its : ns ee. Bone ” the Colonel —, _ must _ is feeli ! in t—herhadalmestsaid, of disgust!” This is as it should be. May we never:knoweesession of Parliament so in human emotions thata Sterwone dees not enjoy feelings of | disappointment; with ust, “almost” awdnabilitpyto: exoress his disg —- y DESIGN FOR A STATUE TO BE ERECTED ON THE SITE OF THE CRYSTAL PALACE IN HYDE PARK. PRETTY WORDS FROM PRETTY LIPS. Louis Naporzon has given lots of jewels to the singers and dancers : presents that have been most sweetly, most truthfully acknowledged. To Mapame Tepesco.—A bracelet of green enamel and diamond; ee (Mapame T. curtsied and cried—“ The Emperor's a duck ! ””) To Mure. La Gava.—A brooch of violets and diamonds, La Gava. “The Em *s a love!” To Mute. Dozy.—Bracelet of green enamel and brilliants. Duszy. “The Emperor ’s a cherub ! ’’) (Murz. Cexrrro, To Muz. Cenrro.—A brooch, value 5000f. inp *s a seraph |”) wr o Mis, Prusxetr:—A brooch of brilliants, 5000f. Piusxetr. “ The Emperor’s anangel!”’) To Miz. Paicna.—Sapphire: and brilliants, in brooch, 5000!. (Muxz. Patona. “ The Emperor’s a god!” (Mug. (Miz. “The (Mizz, Ministerial Policy. Despite of the Speech, Ministers are resolved—at any cost—upon rotection. Namely, the proteetionof their places. The CuanceLion or THE Excugquex has confidentially declared his readiness, at the proper time, to die—upon the Treasury Bench |

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{ a . BHR) Rein, aba MHL | widiigs ACRES RCN 6 AON NC wate PUNCH, OR TI IE LONDON CHARIVARI. Genteel Pluralist. “ Wuat THE PeorLe caN WANT witH A Crystal Patace on Sunpays, I can’? THINK! TO BE CONTENTED WITH THEIR CHURCH, AND THEIR Home arreRwaRps! ” SURELY THEY OUGHT RENDERING UP THE SWORD. 1 He renders up the sword he held so long, And used so well for Britain: never b'ade Was freer from all tarnishiog of wrong Than England’s, while his firm hand it obeyed. 2. Old legends tell of AntTHUR’s mystic sword Excalibar—that never did forsake His side, till, when death-wounded lay its lord, A weird hand clutched it, rising from the lake. 3. The old Axtuur slumbers in the enchanted land, The Lady of the Lake tending his sleep— *Twas the old faith, when Britain craved his hand, That up to life, all harnessed, he would leap, 4. And, baring bright Excalibar once more, Sweep, with his shadowy knights, from sea to sea, Until, along the length of Britain’s shore, No foothold for an enemy should be. 5. Then back to Enchanted rest, he and his knights Would vanish, till a new occasion came Rousing them from their charméd sleep’s delights, To guard or free the land they loved from shame. 6. So sleeps our later AntauR : his life’s coil Is shuffled off—upon his bier we lay Trophies and tears, ere to the worms a spoil We render up his vesture of decay. The dim lights burn about his gorgeous bier, Sparkling in jewelled star and pendent cross ; *Scu!cheons and leading staffs and blazon near, Tell to the world his honours and our loss. 8. The highest and the humbleat of the land Are waiting to attend him to the tomb— The mourners go about the streets, or stand Sadly, as under sense of common doom. 9. Our Artuor sleeps—our ARTHUR is not dead. Excalibar shall yet leap from the sheath, Should e’er invading foot this England tread— Upstirring, then, his marble tomb beneath, 10. Our WELLINctTon’s undying fire shall burn Through all our veins—until the foemen say, “ Behold, their Antuur doth to life return !” And awe-strack from the onset shrink away.

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INCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 223

THERE ’S NO SUCH WORD AS IMPOSSIBLE. ee THE eae _ was no such word in the i dic- ti as “ Impos- sible.” We think it is high time, however, that, sup- posing the ‘word never did exist in those select pages, it should now be in- serted. Our reason for advocating the insertion is this. Supposing any Frenchman had been told, four years ago, that Levis NapoLzow would be President of France, he would have shrugged his shoulders, and have cried “ Impossraie! ” ‘Supposing, two years ago, the same authority had been informed that Lovis Narotzon would dissolve the Chambers, have an African razzia on the ards, instal if Autocrat edie Toate y= + § _ put his pe pe bis sword, and have exclaimed indignan _rossrBie |” supposing, again, that same Frenchman bad been told, whilst his countrymen were being shot on the Champ-de-Mars worse than woe at the Red House, that that same Lovis Napotzow would, befo year is over, be _ Emperor of France, he would have shouted, with vatelatic i “Twrossraie !” But all the above events have taken place, and are thought no more than a monkey-race at the Hippodrome. We think, therefore, with the above testimonials in its favour, the word has a perfect right to be received once more into the bosom of the French idicoey. This note might be appended to it :— ‘NB, Cet adjectif, si peu flatteur au génie Frangais, fut rayé du Dictionnaire maa par Napotzow tz Grawp, et restauré avec tous les honneurs par son Neveu, Narotzon te Petit.”—Vide Passim. Curiously , the word would come in most significantly between | “ Imposition” © Tmposteur.” It would feel itself, therefore, quite at banatent as ‘auteaihts as if it were at the Elysée. LIGHT IN UNCLE TOM’S CABIN. Tue Eart or Suarressuny has published the form of ie from women to the women of America on the subject of slavery Maus. Bezcusr Stowe’s spirit is trium t in this movement. lordship well says “ In the days in which we live more is to be nently by public and < appeals of waite than by force or by statute laws.” perma- to the great sympathi There can be no a ag few it: and whereas the fetters of the slave have been made the rivetted the faster by the statutes of the men of the Aenerinas Conmmcan en lot thon be lightentd and finally cast aside for ever by American women—the legislators of the American fireside. The Beign of the Empire,-How Begotten. M. Trortonc—-in his oniee document touching the Empire, says “ This reign, will not be cradled in the midst of arms, an

in the camp of a —- ~ guards.” Certainly not ; history ale sg Reviewing the military /éles at les, tory wil say" reign of NaPo.eos ILL. was cradled | was baptised with champagne.” How it will end | hnot. It may, like sausage-meat, tumbie into smallest | —T like go off in pop and fluster. Who's your Friend!

A BENEVOLENT oe, Fay has been writing to the Times, stigmatising as “burglars” the new Militiamen. This| | charitable view of the subject having been criticised by our con-| temporary, the benevolent gentleman named Far wrote another | letter, in which he attempted to explain; but a sad hash was made of | | it by Fry, who may be said to have got out of the frying- into the| ies We should recommend such very small Fry to avo od pablieity 7 ure, | —A Puseyite priest is sometimes con- ape of Popery as he is, he may more | | Tee Crertcat Jackayarzs. temptuously termed a monk, but, justly be called a monkey.

LETTERS OF THE DEAD TO THE LIVING. PARACELSUS THE ALCHEMIST TO DISRAELI THE FINANCIER. ILLoseatous Wizard! whose magical skill Can transmute the base dross of Protection at will To the gold of —_ Trade, and whose potent command - one orderly band, With a force = ich OnPHEUS himself had been weak, For he stocks to dance. teach them to speak : thy spirit h inherit ; at magical power, alas ! ged for a time to the form of an ass ; And our spirit with sorrow remembered that story "When the Liberal Dizzy was changed = a Next in me, for a season, our spirit And, as Hermes tae Micuty drops ~ a ——» Persuaded my dupes I’d been As to find out the secret of living Of course as each hour they saw me live longer, = a body som wee —— their faith a the stronger, we pe agems that my spirit Wien epee f me, one morning, stone dead in ‘my bed. And ’t is there, my D1sRaz.i, in you that I trace All the tact that has ever distinguished our race, You see, as I saw, that in dealing with man, We must promise as much, and as oft as we can ; Promise vaguely, and wildly, and grandly, but still Promise on, leaving Fortune our ae gs For the harder to keep any promise ma, it Is certain the more people think a4 band it ; As a man, if you promise a poor per cent. For his gives his consent, But if tol dian wien huh mete Ponte ty Lg Dyes wi t t, is gulled pains. ll often, enn when your fine spirit racks pte ae apt dod t or tax, It recalls, in a half. Sacdeee chante onal tho thieceghats tenn, And surveys al! the sources whence income may flow, betta ome eh ae which it played perchance, it remem it playe When a aah of Lubeck your victim was made, Who, whilst giving your furnace his closest inspection, him to wait for the hour of projection, sleeve-button fall in the pot Whilst ho, herdid: detested his hoes ads _—~ who, ere he bE a fork plunged it deep down in the drose— point—to its —— displayed it— pe wa near It is Gold, and I’ve made it !” needful for me to explain Sones wee Burgher, Ty friend, 0 en a had such a button as this which you see, oy this button is mine, and i My skill in the Just persuade them of this, and old Forman or Deze, Keyetm Dicsy, and Lay, shall all yield to thee, And Atpextus the Great, by his Brazen Head known, Shai! confess it is greatly surpassed by your own. News ror tue Docs.—Protection’s gone! ! !

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| be worth so much dog’s-meat. A National Affront.

224 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL

AN INVITATION TO THE PROUD INVADER. Tat dove of peace, Eomcwp Fay, coos from 35, Broad Street Buildings, very denouncingly of the Militia-men. | In other places the force has made itself especially popular ; and the good manners and i at iam bos ton emphatically acknow!ed Nevertheless, the militia are hatefal in the eyes of Fay, who glares at a red coat like pak My LT Yearning py eg man tried for ary, & ing for y must, iberal

| consequently, pervade the whole force. is is not li |of Fry, so tolerant of the intentions of forei ; and so | hard judging of his own country: his |may be considered as extraordinary. It is a fact known to his friends that, should the French inv /us, Fry is prepared to carry out Me piasioie of non- | resistance, by going to bed—even with the French army in | Londen—with his door on the latch. As a further illustra- tion of his confiding spirit, let us suggest that he should | write on his door-pest—“ Rubbish shot ¥

}

| | CRITICAL MOMENTS. THE newspaper musical criticisms are by no means 80 | | remarkable for “ learning” as used to and, though | the change is certainly for the in some respects, we must nevertheless admit that the absence the | obscurity which used to prevail is likely to be felt by those who thik that mystery and unintelligibility are sources of critical sublimity. e are afraid we have rather dis- heartened the more recondite gentlemen of the press by our own displays of “learning” im musical matters, and since |we have shown our scholarship im criticising the per-

4 — = the a (street) concerts, red have DOUBT. | missed, in the criticisms on JULLIEN’s concerts, that pro- WELL INTENDED, NO DO | fundity which used to admit of our tumbling out of our Quaker to British Lion, “ Twente, rriexp! Now Let mz put away tHose | depth into flats and sharps of the most acute point Daxcerous Vanitizs |” counterpoint.

7, , r ‘ ' WS loak, D Ww y. Now, , don’t attempt to THE CHAMBERLAIN AND THE CLOWNS. ie ee ee tht eee tad te tamnct Lavo the Tue gentlemen engaged at the various theatres to perform the noble, the exalting uses of tle British Theatre perverted into engines arduous and very responsib'e part of Clown in the forthcoming of political warfare. The next, if you please? Christmas pantomimes bad an audience last week of the Loxp <a ( we Beye LY ~—e. this | must ax. Why am I to be ‘ . : hn de Oe ; y minivet wi e bear— 4 ; CuamBer.ain. The event has hitherto not been noticed in the Court Se ed ie! Circular, for which, probably, his lordship has his own reasons. Mr. “ ; 1. , ty Punch, however, has been favoured with what he believes to be a punc- | ——- a. And why ain’t I to pitch the broom-girl into the tiliously correct account of the interview. Sig ‘ His lordship received the Clowns very graciously ; jocosely remark- an a. ee Austria might feel the allusion and ing that he considered them the embodied “gaiety of nations.” He | ¥!4¢raw her ambassador. was old enough to remember, when a child, Hot Codlins as sung by the _Finally, the Lonp CuaMBERLAIN refused to re-consider his opinions ; immortal GrimaLpt ; whose Tippitywitchet (by the bye, WaLPoLs gave | and the deputation broke up, the Clowns protesting that if they were it capitally, sneezes and all, at the last whitebait dinner) would “never | thus restr ete | in their profession, they would have nothing for it but from his mind.” With this, his lordship waved the deputation to seats. to jeave Hen Masesty’s Ministers to get up and play in the Being seated, one of the (owns, with true holiday unction cried “ Here | pantomimes themselves. we are!” A shout of laughter fol!owed, in which his lordship joined. His lordship then observed that he bad given them the reqpired | - audience that—as they had appealed to him against certain erasures in the Christmas pantomimes—they might talk the matter over. His| AMARUM ALIQUID. lordship would begin with the pantomime of the Adelphi. | Tae late Lory Mayor (Hunren), in resigning the, Civic mace, Adelphi Clown. Well, the fact is, my lord, you’ve cut me out of | expressed his delight that it would descend on the head o! a gentleman all my fat—all my fat. Look here, your lordship. This scene where | | (Cuaxuis) so admirably qualified to receive it. Wereally think the Civic rob a sausage-maker’s, and with the sa | dignitaries should be a little more particular in what they say about each _ Lord Chamberlain, 1 must say, once and for all, we cannot allow the | other, for, if we were ill-naturecly disposed, we might ask why the introduction of sausages. The Emperor or Fra—that ir, the Privce | head of the new Lorp Mayor is so especially fitted for the descent of Paesipent—of whom we continue to receive the most friend!y | 4 huge mace upon it, and whether there is a peculiar th’ckness in the assurances, might mis-interpret sausages. Just now, sausages are full heads of the City which enables them to come into contact with of politics as pig’s-meat. Positively, no sausages. Pass to the next. | ponderous instruments, and be none the worse for the collision? The lympic Clown, Here’s my scene, my lord. My scene with the | |ate Lonp Mayor congratulated himself also on giving up the insignia telescope, where I’m to look into the moon and— . _ | without a stain; from which we infer that the gold trappings of the Lord Chamberlain, Inadmissible, sir: inadmissible. The meaning is Mayoralty were subjected to a severe leathering, and a vigorous not to be mistaken. ‘Telescope—moon—“ looming in the future.” Out polishing of the plate-brush, before they were transferred from the neck it goes. The next? , bi _. | Of the late to the shoulders of the new potentate. Sadler’s Wells Clown. Your lordship, if I’m cut out of my scene with a the chaney-shop, I may as well throw up the part. Without it, ’t won’t

é‘ . | Lord Chamberlain. What :cene is that ? a Sadler's Wells Clown, Why, wy lord, the scene where the bull runs| THE proposition to make Louis Narotzom Emperor of the French | | on chasing the old woman in a red cloak, and pitching her into a 18 to be ad ressed to the people by what they call a Senatis Consultum, | | chaney-shop, where— but which we consider will not so much consult ’em as insult ’em. Lord Chamberlain. If there can be anything more offensive than te : another, it is that scene. The bull, Jonw Butit—old woman in red Tae Fimst Lieut Cuanior.—The Chariot of the Sun.

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i i diet 2 F E iu +f s&s i | i iF EEE E f sheep are impregnated with small-pox! Once upon a time a shoulder before Manomet, was about to be carved by the h prophet, when the Dane “Oh, prophet, eat me not; for I am poisoned!” as the revelation of the ovine pox made to Ma. Bait. after the like solemn fashion ? Be this as it may, the Hon. Member is not, we think, yet possessed of all the latent injuries of Free-Trade. Sm Rossnt Peer’s sheep have brought small-pox ; Str Ropent Prxx’s Free-Trade donkeys—so fiercely debated at the time—have lately proved the mischief abiding in them. Sooner or later, we they would publish it; and published it they have within these few days in the most er manner. hire, Cheshire, and part of Ireland, have been visited by an earthquake. Will Mn. E. Batt believe—but, of course, he will—that the shocks of that long latent in those Free- jac P earthquake were originally smuggled, although What a retribution upon Manchester, if ) te bam chimneys had been toppled to the and all along of Free-Trade donkeys ! THE NATIONAL BETHLEHEM AND ITS CHIEF. THE non-restraint system of treating lunatics is very humane, but Sm Peter Lavaie has much truth on his side; and there are some cases in which the te plan alone will answer, and is found to be the iest for the unfortunate patients in the An exam of this sort exists in the Nati Bethlehem, which is situated between the 42nd and 51st parallels of latitude, and the 5th and 8th degrees of longitude. This der community possesses, in a great measure, the extraordinary power of con- stituting its own Government. Twenty-three years ago its director was a man called Drx, whose Christian name was Cuaritzs. In 1830 its inmates became ki out Dix, and put one Lewis Puiitirs in his room. LKighteen years after that, in another paroxysm, they also kicked out Pxiuwips, and after a brief interval of anarchy under Provisional Rose, chose Lewis Nap, their present ruler. 1 4? had, im PHILLIPs’s time, twice attempted to oust Puriiirs and his forcible descent on the Institution. On the second of these occasions en’ premises with about half-a-dozen associates and a tame eagle,on whose wings he tried persuade the patients that they were all to » away with him to glory. But before sufficiently excited their frenzy, he was sei by Purcuare, who shut him up in the Ward, treating him as if he, Nar himself, were an unfortunate person not fit to be at Nap, however, in spite of all Puiiiirs’s precautions, contrived after some time to from confinement. During the interval of singing, dancing, and fighting which followed the ejection PuIttirs, several men of character and ability offered themselves as i for superintendency of the Bethlehemites; but they, remembering the tame eagle, preferred Lewis Nar to all these, by a vast aie. Nap was to hold the situation for four years, according to a sort of arrangement, called a law, that they had made amongst them. Besides Nap, they had appointed a body of Keepers, with the view rather to keep him in check than themselves in order. Nar very soon found that these K and he could not, as the saying is, put their horses together at all. They overdid their business by thwarting him in everything, and in the mean time the establishment was in a very dangerous state. The patients had planted a quantity of timber, which they expected to bear apples; and there were three maxims which they had constantly in their mouths, and which were chalked and scrawled about everywhere : “Our own Way ;” “ Everybody alike ;” and “ All Brothers and Sisters.” Now it was quite clear to Nav that, if these wild notions were carried out, as they threatened soon to be, the patients wou'ld begin to make bonfires in their and to chop off the heads of the taller among them, and stretch the necks of the shorter, in order to render themselves all of a size. A cry of “ No meum and tuum,”—which meant E E simply, “ No ¢wum”—had also been raised, and some were prepared to assert universal brother- knew | Lewis Fe | i | | F 3 off gFEREE eF had been allowed the use of paper and printing- presses, and were accustomed to publish pe- riodicals ; these he either suppressed altogether, under bsolute control. In fer ten years, and his discipline so si ly well relished, AP has ve - ape hee in it, to the increasing delight and gratification of the patients, whose ecstasy has at last risen to such a height that they now actually worship him. Not content with ——.'— Emperor, they call him Boopn, Braman, Visuwu, and Juriren; mayors, in various ments, say their prayers to him; are strewn in his way; young female patients, clad in white with green sashes round him, offering him flowers. They are now about to constitute him their Supreme Ruler. A statue, it is said, willshortly be erected to him with the following inscription on its — “a. L, N., EMPEREUR, POUR SA CAMISOLE DE FORCE UNE PATRIE RECONNAISSANTE.” He has, they say, saved the Bethlehem, That means, he has saved the Bethiehemites from themselves. They rejoice in his autocracy. We may not like such a system for our Asylum ; but we must let our neighbours enjoy their own anagement peaceably, so long as they will only m leave us at peace. An Emperor's Bills. Ir is expected that some bills of considerable importance will be presented to the French Senate by the new Emperor, soon after he shall bave been invested with the purple—or the motley, should that wear be judged preferable. The bills will first be laid before His Imperial Maszsty by a jogelans.,' “ sausage-makers. It 18 unders ——— to the Senate wy ty hy — ; and the general opinion is, ey will con- stitute the ayes legislation with which that assembly is likely to be troubled. SHORT GRAMMATICAL EXERCISE. Q. What is the most difficult word all over the world to decline. A. Bonus, for we never knew a Director or a Shareholder yet who was able to decline it.

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~ TOO CIVIL BY HALF! POREIGN GENTS AS THEY WALK By !” PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI MORALS OF THE “ DIGGINGS.” Every ounce of gold discovered at Melbourne reflects its | at light upon an fireside. When nuggets turn up the Anti milies in Lancashire joice at the e ipodes, 8 may rejoice of the fact; shewing how the adventurers at one side of the world have their hearts beating towards their kindred at the other : “In one year the Bank of Australia remitted from depositors £4,364— no trifling contribution, when we consider the severe labour in aequiring it. The | that this suecour is but the beginning. Each mail will | an inerease of means to those left in England.” This return, we are farther told, is | Gaspaap ye who, at Mel ti, work begun hourly pursued i : work undertaken for the nob'est | the purest and most disinterested means ; | working alone to aid wives aad children join husbands ard fathers; working, that despairing English labourer and artisan may Fobust, the rejoicing Australian settler. Cen Australia will venerate the name of the though, at the present moment, it is probable Secretary for the Colonies, except “through the | has never heard of them. ) id i i A ; ! i F rrFal “ gE 2k The Cabinet and the Fine Arts. Tue Quezw’s Speech contained—for such a document —a strange homage to the claims of sc’ence and the fiae arts. Who knows what may be in store for letfers with an author in the Exchequer? A very recent instance proves the tenderness of the Eart or Dersy to the claims of literature. His lordship was solicited to bestow a pension on the widow of Docrorn Prr«seck, originator of, and most liberal contributor to; Mechanics’ Institutes. Some acknowledgment of her husband’s‘services would have been welcome to Mus. Braxpeck, and Lorp Dersy made the munificent offer of—fifty pounds a year! An offer court- eously—refused. English Cook. “On, pean! Here, James, come anp TAKE THIS Roast Ber ae, anp Pium Puppina ovt or tae winpow. It Hurts tae Feetixes or tae A Mrracte Expratrep.—In reference to the Winkiag Virgin at Kimini, it isn’t a picture—it’s only a d/ind / JUSTICE TO LUCAS. THE SUSCEPTIBILITIES OF FOREIGNERS. | We rejoice that the Press prevented the concealment of the foreign | = flags taken by the late illustrious Duke, and which, it is said, were to | have been huddled somewhere out of sight during the Lying in State, | lest their being seen might “hurt the susceptibilities of foreigners.” | If we are to begin considering the “ susceptibilities of foreigners,” | we shall have to hidea eal that we always thought we ought | > Reatty poor Mr. Lcas is very ill used by his ra own brothers in arms, comrades of the Irish Ae |, Brigade, and sons of the Holy Father. Not only do be in many yee disavow his sentiments respecting uscan persecu- tion, but, in some, even abuse him for holding them. It is a shame for them, at any rate, y to be proud of, instead of its being our duty to put it out of the way. A clean face might almost be considered hurtful to the susceptibilities of some of those dirty-bearded gentlemen who infest the pwrlieus of Regent S'reet cccasionally; and we might on this principle be afraid to show our faces, for fear of offending the possessor of some outlandish frontispiece composed of hair and dirt. The next aaeee might be called upon to do, perhaps, would be to surrender our liberties and our happy form of Government, lest we might hurt the susceptibilities of those foreigners who belong to countries in which there is no liberty to be enjoyed. Let them do as they like abroad, as far at least as tyranny will allow them—and really some of them seem so degraded, as to be worthy of nothing else—but we must take leave to do exactly as we think proper amongst ourselves - home. Those who don’t like our ways had better keep away rom us. our Navy, lest its efficiency should “hurt the susceptibilities ”—and hurt something else, too, we hope—of those who might be inclined to honour us with a descent upon our shores. If this over-nicety about the feelings of foreigners should grow upon us, we should have to shut up our cook-shops for fear of hurting the susceptibilities of some hungry Sccialist or Red Republican, with an unwholesome thirst for blood, and an equally unhealthy horror of roast beef and plum pudding, or other good and salubrious English fare. We might as well hide ali our policemen, lest we should “hurt the susceptibilities’ of the swell mob on the day of the Duke’s funeral. However, the Press has suc- ceeded in putting the nonsente effectually down, and, as it is down, there let the subject rest. Perhaps the next thing we may be expected to do will be to abolish | (~ to denounce and decry him for opinions = which, as he says—truly no doubt—in his letter to Szenseant Suee, “TI hold in common with every bishop and ev priest in this country and in England, whose sen ments have been made known to me, and with nine out of every ten Catholic laymen with whom I have communicated.” Before Serseant Sree and his liberal associates disown the perse- cuting tenets of Mr. Lucas, they should endeavour to understand what they are talking about—namely, their own religi Perhaps, however, na § an exertion of their intellect might be fatal to their faith, or, at all events, to their enthusiasm im its bebalf. Ma. Lucas, who was once a Quaker, probably investigated his creed before cubuains 5. They must not blame him for holding it logically. Of course, if he were in the place of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, he would do as that pri has done. He calls the case of the Maptais “a case of os i Connemara-soup-money-and-Bible proselytism.” c y he, and all the Romish clergy, and nine-tenths of the laity with wi he has | communicated, would, if they could, send the Connemara tizers Y to the galleys. Would they do no more? Why, as heresy in opinion ia an infinite evil, and avy lesser evil is prefe’ to which is infinite, they necessarily would be pats ge to oppose such evil with indefinite stakes, unlimited faggots, thumbscrews, racks, and all other instruments of torture without sistently ready to go the whole hog—as the hog was gone in Smithfield when Popery ruled the roas‘. Ma. Sexrsgast Suez bas no right to blame them for their sincerity—if he chooses to be their confederate, the proper person to blame is himself. Prioted by William Bradbury, of No. 13. Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, aod Frederck Mullett Evans, of No.7, Charch Bow, Stoke Newington, both t the County of Mid llesex, Princers. at the'r UGee in Lombar ) Street, ia the Precinct of Whitefriars, in the City of |ondon, a d Published by them at No. %, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St. Bride's in the City of Lon ion. —Sarvsoar, November Wr -, 1%

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227 | THE DEFENCES OF THE CITY. S ovr National Defences PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. are 0oc- cupying the attention of the ublic at large, the citizens of mdon—who may be termed perhaps, ‘the public at li ,. r state # Sy. — efences © ir m and especially as to the threatened demolition of Temple Bar. It is contended that this ugly old bit of masonry would prove what ma be termed an “ugly customer "Te agmk, ae Ot tis argued, also, an incessant fire could kept up in the grate at. the end of the room over the centre arch, a vast amount of discomfiture could be inflicted on an enemy by a con- tinuous stream of water from the pipes in connection with the adjacent cistern. he value of Temple Bar as a fortification is much impaired the a (oa of the principal gate, while theoceupation of the little donjon on the left, by an enterprisi ber, gives a sort of neutrality to the comprised in the foot pavement on one side, and deprives the City Monarch of the sole sovereignty of the fortress. Considering the inefficiency with which the whole affair is manned, or rather womaned—for we believe a char-woman is the only official regularly attached to the Arch—it is doubtful whether, im case of an attack from the West, anything like resistance could be relied upon. It is true there is a sort of picket planted on the eastern side, in the shape of the City pikeman,, who takes toll of the caravansera entering the Civic States ; but it must be JOHN BULL’S NEW TROUBLES. A may can’t have just what he wants, and no more ; It never will rain but "tis certain to pour : A few years ago, my entire botheration Was having on han d a too large population. “Confound it!” I then was accustomed to say, “T wish I could send half these people away— These paupers, consuming the fruits of the earth, And eating up ten times as much as they ’re worth.” I could not check their increase and multiplication, And wish’d I could bring about cheap Em Emigration 1’ve got, with a vengeance, I’m losing my superabundance too fast. their comforts might be a good = | There won’t be a servant for hire to be had shall all have to clean our own boots, Sir, egad ! wives will be soon forced to cook us our chops, And scrub their own floors, Sir, and twirl their own mops. Can nothing be done to induce folks to stay ? Increasing way— Rebuilding, and draining, and cleansing our towns, Early closing our shops and instructing our clowns. And then, Sir, there’s Gold. I should once have cried, “ Stuff !’’ enough : Had you said I could ever have more than But now I am plagued with a surplus of riches That I can’t dispose of in bank, coat, or breeches. Indeed, I’m afraid, like that Crassus of old, That I shall be finally choked with my gold, It being my doom that hard diet to cram on Because I so long have been worshipping Mammon. Diogenes Beresford. Hon, Witit1am Beresrorp took his lanthorn, Downing Street to St. Paul’s Cathedral, looked and, ing fro for “the rabble.” We oye by only difficulty might be has plan imself _ | remembered that the Bar is already passed when that tribute is exacted, and that the pikeman | might be easily surrounded, omen, and put to | the whip, before any help could be obtained from the Bar, even supposing there should be any at | Meee Ree toate cri dates, | ‘emple is to ept as a civic) def it is only reasonable that the be of the ney shou!d be fortified, for we do not see why the West End should be the only point | at which invasion is to be looked for. Why, for instance, should there be any special faith put im the wild and wandering tribes of Clerkenwell, who might pour down their native hills of overrunning the vast plain of Farringdon and | thus swamping | at their | bubbling over into Bridge the fair levels of Cockney Land ! point, which lies at the foot of the rich Hill of Ludgate. If Temple Bax is to be preserved, surely Black- friars should be fortified, and Cannon Street de- fended by a restoration of the imagina: from which it may have possibly i We would, however, Temple Bar, which forti but its friends and custoniers. The with the barber who planted himself firmly in the base of the fabric, and in the affections of his customers; but there is no doubt that upon a compensation he would march out with the honours of war, so that the Bar might be rased to the ground, and all having businers in the City might be able to “ March on without impediment.” Sussect vor a Stratus. House of L Taiers. A HINT WORTH ANY MONEY. | Ler Mr. Corrocx borrow a hint from the way in which the shop- keepers of the Strand and Fleet Street have been expressing their | grief for the death of the Dux, by exposing in their shop-windows a | model of the Seats | in bis own | sale, | phulant bovine ‘ in the windows of th ropic, ic way, expose in t ws e | Cariton Club a model of all the Parti } and ticket upon each the lowest price for which it is to be bought. It might induce many a rich customer, name, to go in to purchase, particularly | was safe, and was likely to bear him for a long period. and the price of each. Let him, Parliamentary Seats which he has for ape %o OR. ELE. oe SS if he was confident the Seat A Pyramid of Bad Jokes. We offer an entire collection of Punch to avy one who can beat following in atrocity anony yc | ominous, for the | bis marriage will attempt, which has been sent to us | “The marriage of Louis Naronzow is to take place, it is said, immediately after the rays py: the — Toe — Ly =| Empire only carry him du ma pire also take him from Bed’en 10 Wasa (Worser){!!" The Pantomime of Protection. | Tue Post says, with respect to the Queen’s Speech on Protection “ A Constitutional Monarch, who speaks by the advice and upon the inistrators of the official adm responst bility of his Government, cannot adopt and recant opinions as a habiliments.” | Clown in the Pantomime can change bis motley | | do the ‘already done more than go into a bottle; namely, he has corked himself up. TAKING DOWN OUR NATIONAL PRIDE. We understand that a name, w from understand that the Right Hon. Gentleman expressed his sense of disappointment in words of bitterest disgust. ne might be calculated to wound the feelings arriving at the terminus of the South-Western Railway. uence of its Frenchmen |—The Rights of Woman; and the Wrongs of VOL, XXIII. AA the | the City against | | | | | | | (To be placed in the | Commons,)—Disnag1t, like Nione, all | Certainly not. It is only fora Cuance.ton or THe Excurquer to bottle-trick. By the way, it is said that Mr. Dispazct has b proposition is about to be submitted to Par- Droczwrs took a lighted lanthorn in noon-day to seek for an honest | liament, that Waterloo Bridge be taken down—in con man : did he find what he sought? On the Duxe’s funeral the Right

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228 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI TRAVELLING NOTES. BY A SCOTCHMAN WHO HAS GONE BACK. CHAPTER I. * Bluter Castle, near Knockintulloch, Bligmurdochshire, “IT is a part of your y Wholesale calumay of | 4 Jf wW, Mr. Punch, to pre- iy | (tend that we never re- a! turn to our native country. I am just going to show you the falsity of this notion, altogether. Nobody, I apprebend, will deny that J am a Scotchman. | The name of M‘SpLeucuan ‘» or Biorea—| but, however, | > you fellows are | 5 awfully igno-| +3. rant on these => . Why, | in London, in Spain, in ltaly, in Greece, to say nothing of - the country Deg A ie 2 - ae never met with a man who had heard of Knockintulloch! Of course you go on bragging of your knowledge, and affect to oy opinions on Scotland. Pretty critics, indeed, who don’t know the difference between Buittle and Borgue, and don’t know which is the oldest, Gorpow or Letrer- rourre, or Gorpon or GLenBucket! ! ** | shall just give you a few preliminary reasons why I happen to be | here. From accent, the people would never know me to be a Seotchman.* "The fact is, I left Scotland some years ago. | know you laugh here. But, why do we leave Scotland? I will tell you. In the first place, we are naturally an adventurous people, and desirous of | spreading civilisation, That was my first impulse. Secondly, | was desirous of seeing the world. Thirdly, I wished to study the manners of the Eastern nations. Fourthly, | love commercial pursuits. And, | also, | should add, the property of Bluter was, in my youth, not what it used to be, “The family of M‘Sereucnan or BLuTER + * ° . ° . . ae ‘hard up.’, “ People may say what they like about the causes of these changes. There are some who pretend that the property was a mere bit of hard hilly land at the best, and that it could not be expected to maintain an increasing family. This has a superficial air of reasonableness about it. | But perhaps the real cause of our ruin was a large hospitality. In the old times in this neighbourhood, the way they managed hospitality was this. Half-a-dozen lairds were perhaps on friendly terms, Well! | they all went to live at each other’s houses by turns; and, by the time the sixth establishment was exhausted, the first was replenished. It was at one of these feasts that my excellent grandfather breathed his last, in what, I dare say, you fellows consider a somewhat remarkable way. He was always a eater; and he liked Ais ¢umbler, my dear Punch. They had sat at table at the house of Datze.t or THe Scaur for a couple of days. Somehow or other, the old gentleman had been silent | for a little, and presently the Larrp or KitsHILuay called out across the table, ‘Guide us! Biorer’s looking gash!’ which, being inter-| preted, means ‘pale.’ ‘Gash!’ said the hospitable host, ‘he’s been | deed these twa hours, but I wouldna disturb the company.’ “Ab, those were the days! But I must not linger over the past. | They laid the old gentieman’s moist clay with that of his ancestors. | My father found the lands of Bluter too much burdened to be longer have lived | d Scotch, Sir, abroad—you may take them where you please—are all aiming at getting back their Bluter! Take old Mutu and Grosst of Cadiz, the wine-merchants. Take old M‘Happs of Smyrna, ths carpet man. Get either of them over a bottle of Port (which I dare say you would not at all obj-ct to), and see what the favourite vision of him is. | Or trot through any Scotch county, and ask the boy who is carrying | the letter-bag to the little place inside the fir-trees. You will find, ten to one, that the tenant is an old retired fellow, who left the count without a rap, and has come back and bought himself a bit of land. But to my more immediate ‘ notes.’ “It is a mercy we were not run into just before we got to Carlisle. They did what they could—I ’\l do them the justice to say that—as far as stopping went. But we got on—though for some time not much quicker than the train from Naples to Castel-a-mare—though it is driven by a Scotchman. (But no amount of intellect will triumph in some countries!) I was, myself, in a state of agitation more than once in the second-class carriage—I[ always travel m the second class, by the bye; I prefer it—and scarcely able at times to continue my converse with the gentleman opposite. This was a schoolmaster taking his boys home with him—who wondered, poor little fellows, to hear me chatting 80 familiarly with their master. I am afraid I was wrong about the longitude of Rio Janeiro, which came up in the course of conversation, — indeed, the schoolmaster looked as if he would have liked to flog me. Flog me, indeed, M‘Sriuevcuay, late of the ——! Ha! ha! “ T changed carriages at Carlisle. Twominutes for refreshment. The don’t know what an old stager can do in two minutes, Shilling’s wort cold brandy-and-water—three sandwiches—Banbury cake, half-finished, in hand—as [ hopped into the carriage just at the starting bell. A youth in a white wide-awake was the only other occupant, and with emoniac exultation he exclaimed at once ‘Ah! Smoke now!’ * Second class!’ said a voice at the window bringing an ugly female face to it, ‘This way, Ma’am.’ ‘ Full here,’ i the youth oppo- site. But this was ‘no go,’ and a scowl of indignation from the ugly female withered him up, as she passed between our knees, hugged herself in the opposite corner, a a lunged into Uncle Tom’s Cabin! “Note here—that the people who begin a chat with you in railways about the places the train is going to always take care, in asking you about the people there, to ask you if you know the regular tip-top ones. For, of course, it is just as well to be a great fellow, if only «cog. * Going to Bligmurdochshire, Sir?’ ‘ Ah!—doyou know EaGiestal ov Eacrestait?’ (the largest ietor, Lord Lieutenant, &e., &c.) This question was put to me by a fellow-passenger ; how I answered it is nobody’s business ; but this I know, that the jaunty young gent. who did ask me this ts not staying at Eaglestail—but spends most of his time at the wretched little buliard-room in Daums.Leextie (such a table —such a rusty old cloth!) playing billiards with an ex-lawyer’s clerk, who recently succeeded to a little patch of land, in right of some mort- e transaction. : “* Daumsterkig Station!’ I woke up from a nap which had lasted all across the borders. ‘ And this,’ exclaimed I—mentally, of course, or I should have been seized as a drunkard— | ‘ This is my own, my native land.’ | “*Hoo are ye, Sanders? Hoo’s a’ wi’ ye. A’ richt!” My dear | Punch, | began to feel how English my culture had been when I first jheard the Scotch tongue roaring me. I have always liked URNS, undoubtedly, but his Seotch gives a relish to his humour, as olives do to wine. But all Scotch—common daily Scoteh! By Jove, I begin to be afraid that we are like our thistles—deuced pretty and py nor all that, to look at, but—to live upon—only fit for a@ donkey : ** And this,’ I resumed, ‘ this is the city where Bruce slew what ’s- his-name; ’twas here’—but in fact ’twas drizzling. I was very hungry. I got a fellow to carry my portmanteau to the Eaglesham Arms. I gave him a shilling. It would ill become a M‘Srieucnan oF | Biurer to sneer at his countrymen; but I remarked then—and have since—a certain elation and surprise manifested by the recipient of a oitien hereabouts, which—but let us not be satirical. Only note this, also, that if the unexpected amount awakens admiration for your generosity, that sentiment is b understanding. “T hate your orations, and great receptions. This made me shy in entering the Eaglesham Arms. A M‘Spieucway, I was afraid, would be recewwed with that empressement which, to travelled men, can only seem a bore. The name of M‘Srievcnaw is—thought 1—somewhat well known, hereabouts. Well—well—I escaped the anticipated bore; with compassion for your tenable. They passed, Sir, into the hands of the great Eants or Murr-|and, when I retired, I found myself conducted to a chamber as row. You must have observed, my dear Editor, that properties are | highas the heronry that used ¢o exist near Bluter, in better times than like quicksilver—the big knobs attract the little ones, and swallow| these! Ha! them up. “It has been the dream of my life to recover Bluter. I have bought Bluter; and here is the point I should like to urge on you. The * We question this fact.—Eb. t We have been obliged to prune our correspondent i ly here.— Eo. “T stayed at Drumsleekie some time. I mixed with the people— talked to them. In London, we talk of and interest ourselves in Resse.t, Deasy, Patmerstow, the Pore, &c., &c. In Drumsleekie, everybody talks of and worships Lonp Pumpie, CappLe or Swyice, Moowzy or Nosss, Guy or Gununinc, and Ma. M‘Picmy or Dusce.—Axz revoir.”

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t ee = =_ “PRO Re enmre®ararrn To —rPo"rs ARR OSA ~-EBRB RAR Oepan ta? PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL oe ODE TO THE GREAT SEA-SERPENT ON HIS WONDERFUL REAPPEARANCE. Faom what abystes of the unfathom’d sea Turnest thou up, Great Serpent, now and then, af - few} And its of seafaring men ? What whirlpool gulf to thee affords a home ? Amid the unknown depths where dost thou dwell ? If—like the mermaid, with her glass and comb— Thou art not what the vulgar call a Sell. Art thou, indeed, a serpent and no sham ? Or, if no serpent, a prodigious eel, An entity, though modified by flam, A basking shark, or monstrous kind of seal ? I’ll think that thou a true Ophidian art ; I cannot say a reptile of the deep, Because thou dost not play a saptiie’s part ; Thou swimmest, it appears, and dost not creep. e Captain was not Watxer but M‘Qur 2, I’ll trust, by whom thou some time since wast seen ; And him who says he saw thee t’other day, I will not bid address the corps marine. t, art thou venomous or not ? What sort of snake may be thy class and style ? That of Mud-Python, by A Protx shot, And mentioned—rather ofien—by Cartyie? Or, art thou but a serpent of the mind ?— Doubts, though subdued, will oft recur again— A serpent of the visionary kind, Proceeding from the grog-oppressed brain ? Art thou a giant adder, or huge asp, And hast thou got a rattle at thy tail ? If of the Boa species, couldst thou clasp Within thy folds, and suffocate, a whale ? How long art thou ’—Some sixty feet, they say, And more—but how much more they do not know : I fancy thou couldst reach across a bay From head to head, a dozen miles or so. Scales hast thou got, of course—but what ’s thy weight ? On either side ’tis said thou hast a fin, A crest, too, on thy neck, deponents state, A saw-shaped vs te of flabby, dabby skin. If I could clutch thee—in a giant’s grip— Could [ retain thee in that grasp sublime ? Wouldst thou not quickly through my fingers slip, Being all over glazed with fishy slime ? Hast thou a forked e—and dost thou hiss If ever thou art bored with Ocean’s play ? d is it the correct hypothesis That thou of gills or lungs dost breathe by way ? What spines, or spikes, or claws, or nails, or fin, Or paddle, Ocean-Serpent, dost thou bear ? What kind of teeth show’st thou when thou dost grin ?— A set that probably would make one stare. What is thy diet? Canst thou gu!p a shoal Of herrings? Or hast thou the gorge and room To bolt fat aoe and dolphins, whole, By dozens, as oysters we consume ? Art thou alone, thou serpent, on the brine, he sole surviving member of thy race ? Is there no brother, sister, wife, of thine, But thou alone afloat on Ocean’s face ? If such a calculation may be made, Thine age at what a figure may we take ? When first the granite mountain-stones were laid, Wast thou not present there and then, old Snake ” What fossil Saurians in thy time have been ? flow many Mammoths c’umbiled into mould ? What periods hast thou seen, Long as the tail thou doubtless canst unfold ? A flock of birds a record, rather loose, Describes as hovering o’er thy lengthy hull ; them, doubtless, there was many a Goose, also several of the genus Gull. THE DUKE’S LAST HONOURS. Tue Dvxe has been buried in honour—in so far as he could be uried, which was merely as to the outer-shell and uader-wniform of the Great Man and Soldier, ss been entombed with all the pomp and circumstance—if not the pride—of military Srpmeny snd heraldic show ; in all the solemn magnificence that eguid be devised, TIE eee fo ell teeeeialina ot cit a0t eilver, pplfcrne sad ow in g ver, uniforms now, when Liberty over i despots and bigots blazing in this little t well and judicious to advertise them and the wor!d with what en we yet honour military heroism : that if we have abjured oo of oe th yoy meager - 8 oo a is time, was it that ion shou Pa 5 at odery values the principles of the extreme Pac ficators ; of meek submission to foreign chastisement: well meaning btless; and therefore all the harm that we wish Ma. Fay and Ma. Bascur is, that they witnessed last Thursday’s ceremony, and aces. But icy then considerations, the pageantry of sepulture would be try simply more absurd than any other. Better, indeed, would it ~_ been, if possible—but it was not possible—that the remains of the Duxe should have descended into the tomb amid the silent reverence of his countrymen. May it be long before we lose another great man —when we have one to lose—but ¢hen may his burial be that of Sia Roseat Pez. UR opinion is that “there's a good time ing” for the Estab- lished Church —perhaps. In Convoeat i on, the other day, the Bisuor or Exeter is Times to have thus spoken : “ But, my lorda, this I know, that there are many in thie Church, very, very many, who, if time should ever come that the Church should declare itself incompetent to its essential duties and its vital action, will leave it. I, for one, will leave this Church if that time should ever come.” As the Bisuor or ixerer stands in a considerable minority on the question of what the vital action and essential duties of the Church are, there is really some hope that the declaration which he alludes to will, one of these days, appear to him to have been made. The Bisnor adds, “I will not go to Rome.” For the best of all reasons. Virtually, has he not already gone? The Prench Schoolmaster. Tux Minister of Public Instruction has been received at Lille with all the honours of war. It is quite right that Louis NaPotzon’s should teach the young idea how to shoot. The Lancastrian ives writing-lessons in sand; the schoolmaster at Lille owe fhis—turning the sand into gunpowder. related by the |

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PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL By hry | (ny sa eal atin RR ELINOR NS Re Ne meee eae LGD instead, and put patios the judicious bottle-holder, — Prize Ring. ee ee a ee | Exhibition - the mist of his his Budget will suggest | tical Jast speech will have been made in Tears. He was to jumped into a quart bottle, but he has put his Tears into his bottle | adap e but his foot in it. DisRatu! is the injudicious Cares of the v3 MMU / VAL FMAB B22 wean e atl jj WW LLL", 4 M. P. “Dip You sE THIS ADMIRABLE SUGGESTION IN THE PapzsR, TO PULL Down Tue Temrte Bar?” 2 Swell, “ Putt poww Tue Tempte Bar! A most EARNESTLY HOPE NoT—WuHy, Goop ewacious! I?’s tHe Pwrixcrpat BaRwieR BETWEEN US AND THE HORWID City!” THE MAGPIE OF THE EXCHEQUER. Ma. Disrae1t’s wonderful recitation of a speech delivered by M. Tuiers on the MagsHAL DE Sr. Cyr, as his own origina! tribute to the memory of the Duke, has elicited numerous remarks from various parties The following are a few of them :— Diskazxi’s funeral oration was only Tears. The eloquence of Tears was the best of his oratory. Tears did not choke, but assisted his utter- ance. Ail who heard him were drowned in Tears. His Cheek, brazen as it was, glittered with Tears. His Tears gushed forth at every word. His fluency is a flow of Tears. His Hippo- crene is a fountain of Tears. He shed Tears that no pocket- handkerchief can wipe away. He is Beauty in Tears. He —— a misty something looming in the future: it was Tears. Per- His poli- ave a loan from ‘THrERs. lf Patmerston is portrait of Tue CHANCELLOR OF THE ExcueQueRr figured at the last year. The public may like to bave another picture of | not so distinguished on the memorable 18th. | this eminent Statesman as he appeared when he uttered his obituary dis- course—with the words of Turexs on his tongue. Such a subject can only be treated emblematically. Now, BersaMin is the Government’s | mouth-piece in the House of Commons, Credit was always given him | for ability to talk ; it was believed that on all subjects he had some- | thing, at least, to say for himself. Whatever speech he might make, we | were assured, would be appropriate—not a iated. It now, how- ever, is clear that he talks by rote, and that, too, on a theme on which of all others, he might have been expected to evince heart—instead of merely repeating what he had learned thereby. Thus, the idea of a parrot is suggested as a fitting representative for the Member who represents Bucks. A jackdaw in borrowed s would be preferable ; but that character has been pre-assigned to some other der. A complete type of our second-hand orator is exhibited by the Magpie. The plumage of this well-known individual of the feathered race corresponds to the political colours of the Protectionist Free-Trader —being black and white. The magpie’s furtive propensities, too, render it a suitable type of the pilferer—in a Parliamentary sense—of shining things. Though not born to riches, the author of Coming Coningsby is a translation—was generally supposed to have born with a silver spoon in his mouth—the wealth of eloquence. His silver 2m, however, turns out to be another's y;_ and, like the iulching ie of dramatic celebrity, he tet off with the spoon of M. Turegs in his beak. Temple Bar Doomed. No doubt of it—Temple Bar must come down. Nevertheless, we |would wish—for the sake of its com ive antiquity—to have its |architecture in some way preserved. Hence, we it should be dapted to a new frontage for the London Tavern. if , if the silver soup-tureens—that on the day of the funeral surmounted the Bar, by tasteful order of the be retai add greatly to the significance of the erection. The tureens might be labelled “turtle” or “ gravy: ” though we are bound to say, they were

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WSN x Was A STUMP-ORATOR WITH HIS BONE FROM THE FRENCH. Novempezn 27, 1852. il seeaehos -@2@eo'4H Ohh OBAhH SEO eneoeoor ge |

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ais secretin aes to eee lesan oP

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; | —~ |

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

LEGAL SEASON. = rospects of the season ¢ Westminster Hall are A very brilliant; and— to use the phraseology of the Green Room—*“ the people won’t come,” how- ag much may be done “pull ’em in” fo the Saale Courts at West- minster. The only chance is in lowering the prices, in order to compete with | the Minors or County} Courts, which are doing = tremendous business.” Perhaps the issuing of a sort of pro- gramme might have some ef- fect, and we have great = pleasure in s suggesting the following an- nouncement as admirably adapted forthe purpose :— WESTMINSTER HALL! LEGITIMACY AND TALENT!! The public are respectfully informed that this magnificent Hall is now open for the season, with an UNRIVALLED COMPANY, who _ go through their extraordinary performances in Law and the other astonishing feats that can oy bs be witnessed at thine nes lishment, the public attention is particularly directed to the DRIVING OF A COACH AND SIX THROUGH AW ACT OF PARLIAMENT ; a ormance that will be repeated at intervals during the season. order to give as much diversity as ible to the Programme, | arrangements have been made for the production of THE LAST APPEAL! - the Quarter Sessions, which will be brought forward regardless expense. The novelty next in succession will be a Conviction,’ supported by the most eminent talent, and terminating with a powerful dénomement, realising, in the conviction, THE CONVICT’S DOOM. The entertainments will be enhanced by the facetie of Ma. Bazer- Less, the celebrated Blackstonian Buffo, and Mrz. Dunvp, the un- rivalled forensic Grotesque. Jouns Barristers trained and broken in from 10 till 4. edonian omnibus leaves the Temple every —- for the Hall, which may be reached by steamboat from Chelsea, and by walking from any where. The Quart-Bottle Trick made Easy. We think the Cuancetton or toe Fxcuequven is in a beautiful condition to perform the above trick, for he has made himself so smaii by his late upon a French author, that he could get into any vessel, however little—even a lachrymatory. Perhaps, however, it would be me tM. to — him with the latter, for if he saw apny- thing “res at the bottom, he would be slipping into it The Staff of Peace. Wits the t pleasure we read in the Times, that, under the new French fespire, “ The Ex-Kisa of Weetruacis will, it is said, be appointed to the office of Grand Constable.” France, you see, has Cggenions her —- —— agen = said pire was peace. e rejoice in t rospect o appointment of a Grand Constable, who, it i to be Anta wil comprehend the duty of his grand office—and keep

LETTERS OF THE DEAD TO THE LIVING. KING PORUS TO ABD-EL-KADER, Brave Emre! Since France has escaped from the shame She had well nigh incurred—of enrolling thy name With Horgn’s and Toussarnt’s, whose dungeon and grave Were her tribute of praise to the free and the brave— ’Tis not strange that ve be eart truly grateful should be That her chief has withheld such a tribute from thee. Perchance too, while Paris profusely displays Her manifold charms to thy wondering gaze ; While her crowds at the lion admiringly stare Transferred from his wilds to their Vanity Fair; While the courtly and servile, receiving their cue From their chief, now first venture to give you your due, And bestow on the captive their master has freed All the care they withheld in your hour of need ; You may think, in your joy such a freedom to gain, It was justice—not policy—loosened your chain, And ascribe to an earnest desire to atone For yous wrongs what you owe to Ambiticn alone. With a zeal keen as thine, in the glorious strife For Freedom, I perilied my kingdom and life ; aon though, in the terrible hour of defeat, A more generous foe ’twas "end, fortune to meet, When he raised me, half d from a heap of the slain, And bade me my sword and my sceptre retain, And, still — when my deeds greater praise would extort From bis li than he gave to the Best in his court, I felt that he laboured to lessen the shame Of my total defeat from regard to his fame, And was willing more praise on the belples to shower Than on those whose tried prowess mi <-~+ whee ee my Log me e godlike, <q eR ut to conquer, to charm, to to command, With —- oameee lose! —— purest were close Believe me! far baser the mixture will be 1 the cl eli oon, who bids ~~ He may boast of the to you :— Does he daze pardon those who our arms could subdue ? Tardy justice to France’s brave foe he extends ; But when will he learn to be just to her friends ? Does he think, with your Seem, one — to have bought Whose fame may embellish his ie parenan Ones Or hopes he—pursuing his uniform ra Of resembling iously minded, shee crowned, With some Mameluke captives his throne to surround— Your assistance at his coronation to gain ? One captive might pass for another, ’tis true ; But the Uncle won his, and the Nephew stole you : And the soldiers on seeing you there might, perchance, Murmur, “ Where are the chieftains who ae him to France ?” And if you discover how artful, how base Were means that have raised him to power and place, I am sure when the courtiers are taking once more The oaths they have broken so often before : When their Chief—of their ey never ashamed— Hears this third, fourth, or fifth (?) Constitution proclaim’d the Senate he hires ex ressly to make it 0 the soldiers he hires, if needful, to break it : When the priests, with a blasphemous bnseness, declare the saints have Napotzon’s life in their care, To reform, to convert, to evangelize France, manifold crimes have long needed a rod (Some kings have been nick-named the * Scourges of God”) : Then, Prince! as you hear the subservient train, You will long to return to your desert again, Where an oath is still sacred, the law still revered, And the Prince, to the hearts of his le endeared, Can confide the support of his rights his throne To their love, to their truth, to their virtue alone. The Muse of Maidstone. Tae Stable Mind boasts of two great poetse—its Mawwens and its Maipstowz—bat the latter, we think, is the par excellence—the honourably of mediocrity. e propose that for his especial ‘Scation 6 enth Muse be created, enithommneiiiinden sister of the Immortal Nine be—“ The Mews of the Stable Mind. ”

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, SOE ee ee + oP Tee

234 PUNCH, OR TITE LONDON CHARIVARI

— ™

A FANCY DRESS HUNT. MRS. GAMP AND THE GOVERNMENT. Iw the Paris correspondence of the Morning Post the other day, there was an THE “—your Omni-Bonapartis's ?—your— 'no* allow yourself to sink in this way. Depend upon it, there are France, Oui, vous avez raison, They are stones—stones of the stoniest | bright days yet in store for your country, and every chord of yoar description—stones that have only paved the way to despotism—that | electric nature will throb then with as much p'easure, as it does now way which M. Louis Rowapaagte has been travelling for some time past. | with indignation, at being the chosen agent to transmit the glorious mgland. Nonsense! He’s been travelling lately in the South of | news to our shores. France. | France, It will be news indeed! At present it is all darkness—the

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. ——_ 235 darkness of despair. There - thirty-six millions of inbabitants i in France, and not one Frenchman England. Wait, and you’) a France, Wait? Have I not been waiting these ten long, li o ror months ?—and have I not been com Feed pede: Aied- the degradation of on enslaved = Have I not written with own un the history of her growing wretchedness ? a I not transmitted to your land the catalogue of all her wrongs and sufferings? Have I faith‘ully chronicled, so that all your countrymen could read it, and shudder a the blood in which most of it was written, how one liberty after another was torn from F until she has become of a free nation that she at present is? With my own hands have I this ever since December, without throwing the veil over a single wound—without bating a single day of infamy— and yet you calmly tell me to wait ! England. Well then, if cannot wait, at least be silent. France, You bid me to be silent. Why, you know, Pape, I have always been a silent agent in the transmission of these onslaughts on my —w s freedom. You cannot say I ever a word, or a tear even, of my own, to the narration of the infamies which have been put, like so many chains, upon France in her slavery, and which France—I grieve to say it—only too passively endures like a — You never heard me complain before, but now I must speak out. England. 1 —- a it ; for, not having complained before, you have less right to a The nation that wears its chains of slavery as proudly they were gold ones that had been bought at a jeweller’s in the Palais Royal, should not, if it has any sense of modesty left, breathe a word of complaint ahout the weight of them. France. Monsieur, je vous demande raison ? England. You ask for “ * raison,” my dear France, and you shall have it. And the “ — plain English, is this :—* The Individual who smilingly all imsel to be kicked, and then sits down me! under the in —o not the slightest sympathy by making himself out everywhere to be a martyr. So it is the same with a Nation. [If it likes being kicked by an old pair of jack-boots belonging to Napoleon, it had better not say a word about it.” (Rather a stiffish breeze gets up in the Channel, and the rest of the Submarine Conversation becomes inaudible, THEATRE ROYAL, WESTMINSTER. BY OUR SLASHING CRITIC. Hoiprse, as we do, that censure can alway s et gp both with em- and precision, in —€ of the utmost temperance, we invariably termed hard words, and we therefore trust that the blandness of our phraseology may not be misinterpreted into com- promise, when we say, that the proceedings at this theatre during the past week utterly and| disgracefully transcend any previous instances which even this manage- ment has afforded, of| duplicity, wae — incapacity. e of the public, whom it is | our proud, but some- times painful duty to brought protect, we protest against the system adopted on these boards, A new work, which had not been underlined, was sudden forward on Monday night as an original production, with me Dizzy as its avowed author. We do not complain of this change of arrange- ment, because the exigencies of a theatre are variable. Nor need we| the sculptor M. Jacometti f refer to the J er tea ype It was called The Oypress, and was of | The Pops must, no doubt, feel and deeply a serious hey ago ha Lg aw and moral were elevated, and | the en est degree appropriate and even t. | Unex as Py on juction, it gave great satisfaction, and although, as a general we attach little value to the opinions of actors, we may mention that the veteran Mr. Patmexstos, who was in the front of the House, and markedly applauding, privately "expressed his conviction that certain ions of the affair bore the stamp of real genius, though he admitted, subsequently, that the person to whom he! abstain from what are| bad attributed genius had not stamped, but only put his foot in it, The press was nearly unanimous in its applause, and Mr. Dizzy was mitted, by The , 1 have retrieved some of ‘his lost Iaurel it be believed enh hg ei ty pee by Ma. "Dizzy on Monday ight, yo ofa vn called a but ‘whose ait nous), URN out ia Vv t out i theatre in P since 7 oe cen due to certain oslo revived who ty oe, Y 30 of w ough Young, is no the Globe published the dis- contemporary the Chronicle, ——— on com becomes revol ingly obvious, theatre! Dus designs SB = a i i : 4 : amg = . z K i : ie i it i 7 : 3 F 35 2, F fl F : a g to indeed, that he copied book ago, forgetting to append the author’s name; and on again ile to to the book, thoaght that the work was his own. If the public accept this excuse, we are silent. But we are forcibly reminded of another piece brought out by Dizzy, when the late =, _ was manager of the theatre (and which may be no more © The ), wherein the principal character sarcastically ad A, = rival, “ You found your enemy bathing; you stole hus clothes, and you wear them as p' y as if they were your own.” After thi could the public ex Semitic manager to steal such very “old clo’” from a F ? Another rumour which has reached us is, that Mx. Dizzy means to take refuge behind two , and to my, - SF ertian Uke akdecs bo eas os uianl an ; and, secondly, in treating he was so affected that he insensibly melted into Tuters. As As Terra the the ~_ plea, the public must pronounce the sentence ; as regards the md,—though no one who sees the actor- author can ‘doubt that he is bones affected—we cannot believe a can ont melt whose element, out of which he cannot live, is hot add that M. Turers is about to take proceedings ce Treaty, and that the mt ny ony 4 a . Friday night 17 oa was caled “WB, = ppeaeel oppreanasy apnes 6. 60 IE Sen Ban Sink Sor Fra to Derby?” but there was a difficul ty in obtaining the licence; and Mr. Cocksurs, who was to as pel gay = part (Sir Scarify tponement, Scorch, we believe) very There is a part of an Irish a ee hiek will pro bl With affairs behind the scenes we seldom meddle, but those who care for such matters may like to know that on Friday, in spite of —_ ee meritorious servant of the public, long known—and we be known—as O/d Joe, was installed into the office of Celt bont B began his duties that same evening. We trust he will keep t € com y to its work, for many members are disgr behind their time, to the disappointment of those whose money goes into the Treasury. ie in i performed on ae filled to witness a new local ly amuse the “ Peace and Plenty "—of Noise. Many members of the Peace Society advocate their cause in such a noisy manner—agitating away as if they were going to move heaven and earth to enforce their pacific principles—that we think it would only be just to c e the name of these Friends of Peace—but not Quietness—and to them, for the future, “ Eantu-Quakens,” A NEW FORM OF HERO-WORSHIP. Tae robbery committed upon a French author by our CuawceLion or THE Excnequer, when he was expatiating on the virtues of deen = eae a after all rs 1. Lome ¥ 4 DisRakit thought he not pay the memory of the departed hero a greater honour than by taking something more from the French, The Pope and the Fine Arts. We learn from a Modena that the Pope has given an order to Ly nf my ty The Kiss of ‘on = or the subject. tll rend how he has TICKLED BY A STRAW. A NEw paper manufactured entirely of straw has just Perbaps the most appropriate purpose it can be put to, will be for men of straw to draw and accept their bills upon. what a kiss did Pro Nowo give to helped to crucify her !

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256 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

'p .. ~ SSS IN < 4 " B/ ” I fe TPT VI Ze oY Lo ff a0

2 . , a

ie cea ” Me

Ss FAMILY ANACREONTICS. SS MARSALA. : L.—(THE REPROACH OF THE FORSAKEN.) Esteawseep One !—thou art now above The charms which thou didst prizs when poor, Ah! then thou wast content to love Marsala,—fair at Twenty-four. But now, alas! how changed since then, Inconstant, faithless, and untrue ; Thy heart is given—like all those men !— ‘o Sherry—dear at Forty-Two. ; Il.—(BACCHANALIAN, BY AN OLD LADY.) Manrsata—Marsala’s the stoff for me When [ have a party of friends to tea. And for supper, because [’1! come it fine, I cffer them cake and Foreign Wine.

——

ws

PLEASURES OF VEGZTARIANISM. “On, eracious, Miss Legume! [ rear I wave Tastep AnrmaL Foop. I Have BATEN A WHOLS Eagwic ry my Satap!”

\ Marsala, Marsala’s a wine to sip; Enough for most but to wet the lip : Another glass if I go to pour, Oh—thank you!—they cry—not any more !

Strange Stuff. ).@ Te eo Tome eg a ae, arrived jrom t a parcel o crabs’ oil. What sort of stuff this can be we | do not know, but suppose its use is to lubricate mechinery ; however, we should think crabs’ oil | would be likely to make locomotives go back wards Eeratum.—([n Herald and Standard.)—For | “Chivalry” read “ Shuffl’ry.”

“WHEN FRANCE IS SATISFIED, THE WORLD IS TRANQUIL.” Tuvs, in his modesty, spake Louis Naro.eoy, during his recent “progress” to the Empire, at Bordeaux. Now, Punch is never needlessly an alarmist, and would not prematurely frighten any nervous reader. But a warning like this is not to be neglected ; and, as one of the National Defences of his country, Punch feels it his duty to call | ¢ attention to it. | For, if Lovts Narotzow speaks the truth (and by accident rerhaps | he may), the world is obviously on the brink of War. Its peace is guaranteed, we are told, so long as “ France is satisfied.” A comfort- able assurance, truly! As if France ever cou/d rest “ satisfied” for | more than (say) a week together. | Besides, the very word “ satisfied ” is, Punch thinks, most ominously | significant, seeing how inseparably it is coupled with what duellists are | apt to call a “hostile meeting.” For the world’s sake, therefore, | Punch would recommend that France be forthwith bound to keep the jeace—on any surety, he would suggest, but that of its expectant mperor. |moment arrives for the civic crown to use its power. On the day Justice for Austria. Avowg amid the Allied Powers whose battle was fought and won by our great Duxe, Austria refused : funeral. The excuse for this disrespect —it is understood—is the unavenged horsewhipping of Haynav; unavenged because [arwau | chose to put up with it: would not prosecute the draymen. What the | Government of this country ought to have done, in the opinion of the | Austrian, we ume, is—without regard to Harwau’s laches—to have | decimated the establishment of Mzssas. Barctay and PeRxuns, and | drowned every tenth man in their biggest vat, reserving all those that were suspected of being ringleaders to be broken on the wheel. Panic in the Dramatic Market. Ir-is reported that ALexanper Dumas is writing a new piece for an English Theatre. Upon a member of the Dramatic Authors’ ers remonstrating with him upon the unfairness of his writing for the English stage, and so taking the (French) bread out of the English authors’ mouths, ALEXANDER THE GREaT made this reply—“ Mon ami, tl n'y a rien changé. Ii n’y a qu'un is de plus parmi vous.” to send a military representative to hisyenlied the Lonp Mayor, “ let the gates of the City be opened.”

THE SOVEREIGNTY OF THE CITY. Every now and then an occasion happens when the —— of the City has to be asserted by the tem- lawryi by ory = the civic throne; and the day of the Duxe’s Fu was one of the cecasions alluded to. The “ ~eo a one in & ay ey mn shut up Temple ; and, considering the backwardness of the Corporation ph A FS ~~ important respects, it is natural enough that it should attempt to show its authority by checking progress. There must, however, be a traitor to the civic

as exercised by the Lonp Mayor, is always baffled when the important to which we have alluded, a general officer rode up to the side of the Lorp Mayor’s coach and observed— “ My Lord, the procession will be here in five minutes.”—“ Then,” at was all right royal and dignified encugh, but it turned out, according to the report, that “the gates of the City had never been shut,” so that the majestic permission to open them was a piece of | mere surplurage. . al We should like to know who is the traitor to the civic , the underminer of the mace, who, being entrusted with the keys of office— the keys of Temple Bar—is so far oblivious of his duties as to allow the gates to remain open, at the very time when the Mansion House | monarchy is to do the only effective act of sovereignty that is permitted it. Perhaps Temple Bar won't lock, or the gates don’t meet, or the | whole concern is rusty and unhinged, like the Corporation itself; but | certain it is, that when the Lonp Mayor said “ Let the gates be egal | they had been all the morning gaping as wide as the mouth of the most eager sight-seer, who had come to witness the grand spectacle.

| A Martrer or Poricr.—To insure the Crystal Palace against the | violence of Has.

Deen -_ ——

Printed by William Bradbary, ef Ne. 13, 0 Webura Place, | Parish of S'.Panerss, nd Broderick Office tn Lomberd Street, im the Precinet of Waitednars in the Chr ef Lende~, and Pobll hed by them at Muliett Eva... No. ;, Charen Rew, tebe Newingten, ther both in the of Middlesex, Printers, at No %, "leet Street, = the Parien of St. Bride's in the City of uapat, Novemsen2,th, 85%.

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eee ae ae re OL Sr ee SS Sr el Te TS rt—‘<—i‘ ”

PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. £37

; joe of Stocks, or PorKia A RAP OR TWO AT DERBY. a question from Brighton by Electric Telegraph. _ As long as the earth does its quaking so gently as almost to entitle He Premier yesterday honoured the the Quakers themselyes, we have no reason for “Spiritual Rappers,” recently arrived . j in to e and e in right-down earnest, from the United States, with his i Electric Telegraph are set in motion, we company. i ienti of Ireland are to be relied upon—put an A vigorous rapping having been communication so d us to the tran- heard, the noble Karl was | qyilli : : that a spirit wished to! aivili : A , though hitherto foun so useful to its », Speak with him. “a attitude in the His lordship asked if the spirit and we have no doubt that the ticket-porters, who ; was related to him; which inquiry ome by the electric telegraph, will find in its alleged was answered by a double rap. He tendency to produce earthquakes an argument for its discontinuance. was then “poe to take up the We can imagine some tottering Trotty Veck contemplating, with a — 2 — _—_ — sort of selfish hotvor, the gees A lines that have been the ruin of y trom A. Lhe first rap | his own iar line, and which, while conveying messages from was given at L: and the word | the . are at the same time <siepiaine the i nag spelt out was Little Adopted. ‘quillity of the , and causing those quakes—which, after all, have Not clearly recognising the defunct | been no great shakes—that we bave seen lately vended in the columns by this title, the Minister desired | of the newspapers. further information ; when the spirit | rapped out the letters P R O T;! ® where if was cut short by his inquiry whether it meant Protestantism ? to which the answer, in so many raps as letters, was, “ Don’t serve | Protestantism as you served me?” and then the raps proceeded to constitute the word! Protections. The Noble Lord said he distinctly felt 'hese raps over the knuckler. His Lordship said, “ Are you happy?” The spirit’s answer was, “I am now at rest.” = The Puemier asked if there was anything that he could do for the ~ spirit’s satisfaction ? Hie The Spirit of Protection replied that it only required a decent burial —S for its remains, and after that never to be mentioned or thought of, nor | = disturbed any more. The Noble Earl then retired with some degree of conviction evidently | rapped into his head. A WORSER THAN THE WORSEST. We have received from an anonymous assassin—and we beg leave to lay a stress upon the ass ass on this mournful occasion—we say we have received from some atrocious stabber in the dark, a pun, that has | been enough to turn our veins into a receptacle for curds, and spoil all | the milk of human kindness of which our bosom has hitherto been considered a dairy. The pun alluded to is of so violent a nature that we request any reader of weak nerves to proceed no further with this paragraph, but if there is any one in whose case a shock to the system a be of service, we recommend him to go on and be electrified. he pun isled up to most treacherourly by an artful question, “ Why Hansarp is so much quoted in a debate?” and a reply is then given that ‘‘ Hansarp brings to light many things that remain wa-Hansard.” Insult is then added to injury by a note pointing out the similarity between un-Hansard and- un-answered, the whole being insolently described as a joke of the first water. If we could meet with the perpetrator, we would certainly make him a punster of the very first water, by pitching him into it.

il

THE EARTHQUAKE EXPLAINED. We had been a great deal puzzled about the recent Earthquake, and| THE RIVAL TICKET-PORTERS, had been wondering why Nature had been amusing email by going . = a oe might have been — for con- SS — vulsions of laughter, so gentle and, in some cases, so ludicrous were , : the effects—when we met with the following paragraph in the Limerick *ODIOUS EPITHETS.” Chronicle :— Ma. Daamaans, with’ great — — fee the ithets “The earthquake in Dubli rd 1 Carlow, Li |“ wise, just, cial,” when applied to Free Trade, as “ odious. and at Holyhead. Scientific eal calle Up ematdon cache eee wel They are “ odious epithets,” says the Right Hon. Gentleman; and we Ireland before, to the effect of the electric telegraph wires, whose atmospheric) doubt not he speaks from the very fulness of his feelings. influence is so powerful. Ben So1omons by no means could be brought to own that particular This is the first time we have heard of the Electric Telegraph being | Statute “ wise” that made coining and passing bad money felony. productive of earthquakes; and we must conclude—if the “ scientific) Further, Bew by no manner of argument could be induced to allow | men” are right—that earthquakes are gaing on all day long in London | the Chief Baron to be “just” who tried and rentenced bim. ; and elsewhere, for the telegraphic wires are almost always in motion, It}, And finally, when Bew was serving out his time, and—with chain on appe that it is impossible for Jonzs in London to send a message to | !eg—was dragging loads in Woolwich Dockyard—not even the doctor

Jonzs at Margate, without setting the earth upon the quake, a could bring | him to confess that such exercise was, or could be result which seems to show that /erra firma is by no means 80 beneficial. firm as had been supposed, but is subject to fits of nervousness of a =— by no means creditable character. e had always thought when our | : Rieht windows gave a rattle, or our door quivered slightly on its hinges, that | Might but not Right. the passing omnibus or coal-waggon should be held responsible for the! Ir cannot be denied that Louis Naroteow has made himself Em- agitation in our household; but if we are to believe the Lrish savans,| peror of France by the will of the Notion, for in everything he has | it arises from a veritable /remblement de terre, that takes place whenever | done he has taken French leave.

Vou. XXITT. BB

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| the next, for the water in the neigh 238 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI THE FREAKS OF FATHER THAMES. Otp Father Thames has been having a few days out, and has, been running about im ail directions, to the great consternation of all residing in his neighbourhood. His pranks have been prin- cipally played in kitchens, where he has amused himself by setting everything afloat, and effecting a series of launches of crockery and tinware, from the largest potato-steamer down to the smallest butter-boat. but, whatever that level may be, it - been found one day to be lost | rhood of London has been jumping up and down in the most ntric manner. The meadows have been converted into navigable rivers; and, had the floods con- tinued, the cabs and omnibusses must have either had their wheels taken ‘off, or have had them converted into paddle-wheels, for the purpose of a their j by water through the inundated thoroughfares. The pn would not be very considerable, as many of the vehicies alluded to are already worked by “screw” power. Perhaps the rising and falling of the water in the streets may have affected the omnibusses, and caused that fearful fluctuation in the fares which has been latel prevalent. So rapidly have these been going up and down, that the fare from Sloane Street to the Bank has, on some days, varied as much as the height of the tide, and a passenger, who has gone to town for threepence, has had to pay a shilling to come back again. If Father Thames” cannot be made to keep his proper lace, we may, at least, insist on the omnibusses not only fiading their evel, but being made to adhere to their level after finding it. A Question to Mr. Smythe. ted out to a friend of mine, a very beautiful diamond ring in a trl. window. He admired the ring. The ring somehow became circulated in society on the finger of the editor of The Morning Chronicle. Now I wish to ask of you—as a casuist—this little question. Because [ pointed out the ring, may | prig the ring, and flash it as my own? “Yours, Bay, the YouncER.” “ Sta,—I lately observed, “Conscience Money in the Year 1853.” Tue following will appear in the Times about the middle of January, a day before or a day after, according to Punch’s almanack-maker :— “The Cuance.torn or THE Excuequer scknowledges of an Ex- Chancellor of the Exehequer the amount of three quarters’ salary, to be forwarded as Conseience-money to Messrs. Fosxetr and Cuow Ler, and by them to be distributed among the most suffering British farmers,” Hint to a Bird-catcher. Ma. Dtsrazwi’s appeal to the young Members pay was made from a conviction that old birds are not to be caught with chaff; but he will find that nothing will do for the young ones either, except "good | Free Trade Corn. RAILWAY INTELLIGENCE. NEW fender has been invented for breaking the force of collisions. The new fender is said to be a vast improvement upon the old buffer. Science tells us that water always finds its level,| « UNREADABLE BOOKS. Tue marked success which bas attended the recently a series of Readable Books has induced an enterprisin prepare immediately a companion course. Its title will be that wh that which heads this notice, and we are assured that the works it will comprise will exciusively be such as shall defy perusal. As a guarantee for this we need but state, that the gentleman entrusted with the care of their selection has long been a “ Constant Reader” of one of our Protec- tionist contemporaries, and is therefore fitly quali to pass his —— on the point, iewed in iteolt, th the project certainly may seem eccentric, and we question if, at first thought, many publishers would like to undertake it. Yet that it will suceeed abundantly there can be little doubt, seeing that it will command the pat of that extensive class of readers who are caught by a title as — as any City heiress; and if on Tom’s Cabin napyens to have arent them, will buy Brother Bot’ s, any other, Oris which the may build upon it. We have already, we may add, favoured with a peep at the prospectus: a few extracts from ‘which we break no confidence in pub- lishing. ‘The first work we are promised is that highly interesting one— 1. The Court Circular ; complete from its commencement. | After this, at monthly intervals, we are to have— 2. A revised Edition of Bradshaw ; with all the original advertisements. 3. The Inaudible Hansard: being a collection of Parliamentary Speeches, invidiously ——— as “inaudible in the gallery.” . Specimens of amateur poetry selected from upwards of 800 Albums. | 5. A Collection of Morning Herald “ leaders” on the Corn question. 6. Elegant Extracts from the “ Visitors’ Books,” kept at the hotels{chiefly patronised } by tourists. (To be published distinctively as the Fools’ Chronicle.) 7. A new Edition of the Rejected Addresses; being those of the Protectionist candi- | — at the late General Election. “ Heavies,” from the pen of a “ powerful” Astleian hip | five years. 10. CotowgL SteTHorp’'s Colleeted Speeches. podramatist. } 9. The Wants of the Age: being a Reprint of the Times Supplements for the last | | 1l. Hebrew Melodies. New Series, comprising Specimens from the Works of our | best Mosaic “ Puff” poets. opinions of that writer upon an immense variety of topics. 2050 Vols. 4to, at the very east. These few items will suffice to show the scope and character of the intended course, and we have little hesitation in predicting that Unreadable Books will form a — quite as useful (to the butter-man) as that of their more readable rivais. The Hustings and the House. Diskakut, in his own bitter way, denounced the idea of “ deducing from electioneering speeches opinions of great statesmen and the maxims of an English Parliament.” Very right; any fudge may do for the people out-of-doors, but true philosophy for the Parliament assembled. for instance, we will say, for the House of Commons, nothing meaner than the philosophy of Bacon—whilst for electors, mere GAMMON, Abd-el-EKader a Frenchman. ABD- BL-KaDER claimed to be allowed to vote for the Empire “as a Frenchman.” The claim was allowed; and the Emir dropt his paper in the electoral “urn.” In this instance, how true—how significant |—is the name of the vessel that receives the vote. For the urn that makes such an Emperor contains the ashes of French freedom. A Good Customer. } | Aw Irish gentleman, being repeatedly solicited by a wine-merchant to give him the benefit of his custom, wrote to him to the following effect :—“ My dear Sir, I am not rich enough to pay for wine myself, but shall be very happy to serve you in any other way. If you will send me a list of your customers, I will see what I can do to cultivate their acquaintance.” | MAGISTERIALLY SPEAKING, | | aoa wt hes — Fo Bong a as a | Premier Magistrat,” is the First it puts nose © his favourite bird out cf joint, for we certainly should have thought the Eagle was the ‘‘ Greatest Beak.” | A Bar Sorister.— We propose that there be engraved on the City | arms a tremendous Bar Sinister, in the shape of that. barbarous old | Bar, Temple Bar—and that the Bar Sinister there remain, as a re- | proach! a ‘alot upon the City escutcheon, until the nuisance is | remov: 12. Correspondence of “ A Constant Reader,” now first collected, and embracing the

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| its aneestors, surely the spirit of Fame planted its signet on every one of those insig- | morning of every returning spring we visit our fevourite rose-tree—that tree whose

; and, lest we should have any doubt as to which particular tree be

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

| Gardens at CRITICISM WITH A VENGEANCE. LTHOUGH we have heard agreat deal, during the last few years, about dramatic and musical criticism being dead, if it is defunct in town, it certainly is ram-| pant in some parts of the provinces. The following «xtract from a Plymouth print will prove, that if the Lon- don critics are deficient im poetical feeling, it is only because Pxcasus has run away into the provinees, and has found a Mazerpra in the shape of a seaport critic, who has “ urged on his wild career” with the fol- lowing piece of flighti- ness :— “Piyruovura TaEatTer. When Donizerrrs exquisite eonception guided the band that was bequeathing a mn- sical legacy to posterity and nifieant-looking, dotted hiereglyphics, and made them immortal. As in the balmy perfumed beauty lived still in our memory, whilst its material wes comming)ing beneath the snow with the menid that neurishes the t shoot, even as we find it ‘ wasting its sweetness on the desert air, and gratifying the senses with revivified charms as lovely as heretofore— so the orations of this great master have an undying freshness, that intervals of estrangement cannot infect or diminish. The simplicity of the story of La Vivanpiere by no means forme its least attraction, and the musie is one continued prolongation of happy and delicious melody.’ We are afraid that the above piece of superfine writing will be hardly intelligible, unless it could be accompanied by sistovinl illustra. tions of an appropriate character. There is scope for a fine allegorical icture in the figure of “ Fame planting its signet on those insignificant- ooking, dotted hieroglyphics,” and the skill of the artist will be shown in deciding whether there shou!d be a separate signet to each dot, or whether one signet should cover the whole of the dots—a point which the critic, who seems to be in his dotage, might have easily settled. There is a glorious gush of something which is more easily expressed than understood in the description of the critic himself, “ visiting his favourite rose-tree in the balmy morning of every returning spring ;”

means, he indicates it expressly as “that tree, whose perfumed beauty lived still in our memory, whilst its material was commingling beneath the snow with the mou!d that nourishes the parent shoot.” We recommend this tree to the particular notice of Dr. Lax pxey, | or some other great botanical authority, who we trust will go down to Plymouth expressly to purchase it for the Conservatory at Kew, or the helsea, The critic is able, it seems, to visit the tree, | THE DESERTED FARMER. A BALLAD OF RURAL LIFE. *T was on a fine morning in Buckinghamshire, As | was out shooting by leave of the Squire, With my gun in omy bn and my dog by my side, All among the green turmuts a Farmer | ’spied. He groaned and lamented for grief and for woe And I axed him what made him bemoan his self so ? Says he, “ I’ve lost my true an’t see ber no more, And that is what makes me to cry and to roar.” “Tf thee ’st lost thy true love,” I then did reply, elegy fm a ane “> a : “: idt t, Which when I remembers, I be ready i -_— “T gie un my suffridge and gie un my vote, Which having obtained, he ine tee And unto his care | entrusted the maid As he has so basely forsook and betrayed.” “ Who’s she, and what ’s his name?” [ axed him again. “Oh! she was Protection, and his name is Ben : But she’s dead and buried as sure as Quexn ANNE, All along of that cruel, deceitful young man.” “ Tf she’s dead and buried, ’tis no good to grieve ; And how oft was you warned that there Ben would deceive! Obliged for to do just as Pex did afore ; Come,” I says, “ blow thy nese, and don’t blubber no more. “ Paorgction is gone !—let her bones rest in peace ; By most folks’ accounts ’twas a happy release : apart he is dead, Is to stick up directly t6 Scuswce instead.” “there ’s reason and force ; : your discourse : Tories rogues alike, | well knew, tis the same with Protectionists too. “To my crops, and my cattle, and pigs I'll attend, And endeavour in future to be my own friend ; Meanwhile, though haif ruined, 1’li be of good cheer, So come and partake of a jug of strong beer.” CASES FOR COMPENSATION ! Sir J. Paxrxctow must pause—(in the House of Commons, be it understood)—before he admits it to be “just” to benefit even the working-classes, at the expense of others. Sim J. P. himself knew men who bad been respectable farmers, now working as day-labourers. Now, it may be urged by cold-blooded political economy, that all social improvements must have their victims. Mr. Puneh, for once, begs leave to deny and despise the assumed justice of such assertion ; , therefore. suggests to the Protection party—for the party lives and though the material is out of sight, “commingling” beneath the| wriggles (even 2s an eel skinned and cut in pieces may wriggle snow—at Plymouth, by the way, snow is to be met with on a“ balmy | in the very pan that fries them)—the following affecting cases for morning” in spring—with “the mould” that nourishes the “ nt compensation :— shoot.” If it is the “parent,” we do not see how it can also bethe| Jouw Bags, late a respectable innkeeper, reduced by railways, to “shoot ;” but a poetical license, perhaps, accounts for an expression | become third waiter. to which the term “father-child” would be analogous. We leaveto| Samue. Curex (now in his old age), the flourishing driver of the the curious reader the task of examining the other points in this Brighton cozeh, now reduced to a spring-cart. Plymouth —— could only have emanated from a brain full | Tom Tuas, a waterman, “as held his head high” in the Battersea of those “dotted hieroglyphics ” with which it evinces such an extra- | Duck, breaking stones “all along” of the penny steamers. ordinary sympathy. : | Wuitiam Burton, tailor, who—when trade was something like ee trade—ured to have bis five pound for a dress coat (and cheap at the | money), and then could afford his coach aud pair, now reduced by | paletots at one pound one, to a gig. And lastly, the British Goose, that supplied the free-born Briton’s Parliamentary Language. THe CHANCELLOR OF THB ExcHEQUER, in his great speech—we use the word great with reference to length—on the moi ion of Ma. Viiirgas, | free, — quill; and is now only thought on for ite flesh and | | made use of the expression “an uninformed sneer.” A sneer being | feathers, all because of iron pens ! a physical movement in which the eye, lip, and nose take - we! | do not exactly see how the term “uninformed” can be applied to the | <= | We dare say the expression, “uninformed sneer,” is all right; but it | | sounds odd when placed in juxta-position with the somewhat analogous |fores. It is all very well to talk of our wooden wails; but those walls j the last fortnight very little shooting of landlords. rocess. We might as well speak of an “enlightened sneeze” an| ‘ ‘ignorant sniff,” an “ instructed wink,” or an “ uneducated hiecough.” | Trolling for Jack. Tux Times proposes the formation of a naval militia: a very desirable terms above cited. without Bricks. The Admiralty must bid for | Tars on the principle of competition, and outbid the Merchant-Service |and the Yankees. In other words, they must fish for Jack with suf- ficient bait. They can no longer depend upon impressment; the days of the Pressgang are gone by ; and they have now and henceforth only the Press to resort to, without the Gang.

| will be —Soss SPORTING IN IRELAND. Owe, perhaps, to the recent wet weather, there has been during |

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eT : 240 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARLI i = 2 \ Tg | SPORTING INTELLIGENCE.-\(FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.) “Tae Country 18 AWFULLY Deer, BUT THE FALLING Is DELIGHTFULLY Sort anD Sars.” FAIR ROSAMOND. AN OLD LEGEND WITH A NEW APPLICATION PROLOGUE. BEWILDERED Booker, let me s — An hour has pass’d away, and more, Since with a flash upon your cheek You flung the Zimes upon the floor. As in the smoking-room you sat, I’ve watched you, and remarked how blue The looks, that from beneath your hat On mea and things around you threw— And I, too, mused—until at last— (Helped by a glass of something warm)— Across my mind a legend past, And settled into novel form. And would you have the thought I thought And hear the tale I have to tell, Just order up a pint of port, (Or p’rhaps a bottle were as well)— And [ will tell it. Turn your face, Nor look with that too serious eye— For gravity is out of place, Under the present Ministry. THE GARDEN, The greenwood grows around the door In many a close pleached knot and maze, The windings of the walks would floor A Dizzy’s skill in crooked ways. From life without, through leafage dense, Far sounds come faintly on the wind, Like the strange voice of common sense, Slow reaching the bucolic mind. Quaint in the midst’a garden bower, Standing upon its close-pleacht lawn, Wherein, like to some fragrant flower Behind the leafy shield withdrawn, Fair Rosamonp, a willing thrall, Secluded dweils in covert green, Kine Henry's love—incog. to all, Particularly to the Queen. EN TETE A TETE. How tell what joys sped time along, Within the screen of Woodstock Maze ?— What peti/s soupers—sans facon ! What féles champétres ! what déeiiners ! | For Kings that love will doff their state ; | Monarchs are men, with ladyes fair ; | Prince Presidents—em téte-a-téte— Are as they were in Leicester Square. | Thus held Kuve Hat a pleasant time | Far from Court boredom, state and throng, | In joys, with just that smack of crime Which makes so pleasant what is wrong. If e’er amour excuse could screen, | Sereen’d royal Hat’s amour might be: | His love was fair, and just eighteen, His queen not fair, and fifty-three. But Kings to business must attend ; And so it chanced that war began— Love’s éé/e-a-/éles must have an end With monarch as with common man! He went; but left to guard his flower A knight, who kept a silken clue, | Which, fastened to the central tower, Guided the garden mazes through. THE DISAGREEABLE ALTERNATIVE. | I wot not how the hap befell, | But, certes, it befell ere long— | Queen Eveanor found out too well | That Woodstock way was something wrong. | Perchance she spied her lord, or gat | A key that oped his escritoire— Enough to say—she smelt a rat, And so to bane that rat she swore. | The knight was summoned to the gate ; His throat was cut, his ciue was ta’en ; | Toreading the garden mazes, straight — | The Queen the inmost bower did gain— | And there Fara Rosamonp she found, | And sternly called her o’er the coals, And, sorry choice, did straight propound | The knife’s quietus, or the bowl’s ! | How that fair face first flushed to red, | How that flushed face soon changed to pale, | | Hath been far better sung and said, | Than I can do’t—in that old tale. | She died, we know, but what her death, | We know not—if she stabbed or quaffed— What matters whether that sweet breath Was stopped by dagger or by draught ? |

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Y~ ' LS Ny Lm . ) 1@ WW) O77 Za Wt tet Lite pho LLL I LIL Lgiiciséhsadsdds LAM LY fet 2a Lis Sn 2 f byt IE A ee hehe A SCENE FROM ENGLISH HISTORY. QUEEN ELEANOR AND FAIR ROSAMOND. December 4, 1852.

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PRE ra cali REE Ee Y - + OP ee " —

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Was not DisRaz.i, many a year, Sheltered within Protection’s Shut out from sense and reason ee and party-hates P your Fawned on ats Leaving its loves legitimate, Ranbys, Ricumonps, and the rest. Till stern Free Trade—that mate abhorred, To whom Sr, Stzruzn’s saw you tied— Obtained the clue, your true knights through crooked paths a Its floo: And fo guide ; its fate and caressed— BPILOGUR. | Now, Mr. Booxen, read my lay, |_ And, if you find a meaning there, Just take it to your heart and sa whet fosia, to lowe eciotiomee t to leave i men Whose order bound 7, piercing to your central hold, Collared your love, more frail than fair, And to hi Offered frowning, stern and cold, bowl, or dagger bare ! THEATRE ROYAL, WESTMINSTER. BY OUR SLASHING CRITIC. ANY WEWS Tov“ ~ N oD AY ment included in the cast. It is entitled, Vox Po- puli; or The Landlord’s Last Kick, but any connection _be- tween the titles the plot seemed to have been sedulously avoided by consent of all . _ We subjoin an outline of the story. scene of our own time, one of happy peasant contentment and prosperity, a large white man’s table, his wife and children are well wages. This pleasant state of things arises Cornucopia, a rich heiress, resident among the the adopted daughter of a late philanthropic dians the Hon. Charles Clarendon the former an amiable aristocrat, the latter an eminent The hand of _the heiress is, of course, eagerly sought, and among the meet soenens pretenders to it are Lord Oaks, a sporting nobleman of ing bearing, but not over sincere in his | dealings, and Mr. Israeil 7 a showy and audacious M.P. of | Hebrew origin, and possessing all the volubility of his race. These are the principal characters ; and, without following all the ramifications | of the story, it may suffice to say that Oaks and Plagiary, for reasons of their own, enter into a compact, the nobleman introducing the oe into the highest circles in exchange for the services | by the latter’s superior keenness and plausibility, They have already | victimized a large number of poor stupid farmers, and have pledged | many things not their own to deal with. They are, therefore, most | anxious to secure the celebrated and popular heiress, and agree that each shall woo her his own way. The dashing Oaks, whose antecedents have been'notorious, avows to her that he has loved a rival of the young lady, a Miss Monopoly, but professes that he has dissolved that /iaison, and is as devoted to Cornucopia as if she had been his first love. less frank Jerae/ vows that the moment he knew the heiress he loved her, and though it appears that /srae/ used to abuse her adopted father in the most violent manner, chalking “humbug” on his back of a it, and alleging that he was only a low huckster, he persists in ing his and even declaring that he had never in all his oppose themselves to the fervid rattle of Oaks of Plagiary, and the rage of the bafiied y brought out, as are their equally vain attempts on Mr. West Riding, the other guardian, who biuntiy tells them they are cheats, Foiled and furious, they resolve on revenge, and in order to bias’ | the heiress’s character, they get one clumsy country fellow to come for- ward and assert that she was not the daughter of the late baronet at all, | but an impostor, and is much older than she seems, while another clown of his orded | The more audacious but | another. The girl herself listens to both, but her | Frenchman i novel stratagem by which he acti |man of an article of value. Their discomfiture is complete, and Cupid | next the stage (though we confess his intervention was upon | as injedicions as possible), and it is found that Clarendon, who | has ardently loved Cornucopia for many years, is entitled to the first place in her affections. The dénouement , most inartificial and objec- i ; but it brought down the curtain smoothly on the vindication of the heiress’s noble and beneficent character, of which all the dramatis persone, except the clodpoles, record their approbation. The piece was not over until past two on morning. We have little space for further remark, and regret it the less that scarcely any of the characters in the piece had anything original aoe or do, and that the way most of the performers acted was very absurd. They dragged the piece fearfully, and where they should have been and crisp were prosy and feeble. And such figures as some of them presented were perfectly absurd, The veteran VILLIERS, as and | “arendon, was tame at first, but warmed into capital life and vigour; | and distasteful as is the of Israel Plagiary, we are bound to sa Mr. Dizzy was bold effective in it. Oaks is constantly heard of, rather than seen. Mx. Granam, in a curious part called Dig James, acanny north country man, was very oily; Conpzn was less fortu- nate than usual in West Riding, and obviously regarded the affair as a farce. Mn. Patmenston’s Cupid is an excrescence on the affair, and was 80 felt, but it was graceful enough; and Mu. Pex, in the short but good part of Frederic (son of the maligned baronet), displayed an admirable portrait of filial duty and La The authorship of the piece is disputed, but it is not vil, and though it will be heal of foc. some tine, it wil, wo dlink, rather than serve the Treasury. A Rival to Sibthorp. THERE seems to be a probability that what be termed the “low |comedy ” of the House of aan is likely to be divided; a rival | (to the inimitable SistHorr having just e his appearance in the person of Mz, We have seen no particular proofs of humour | manifested as yet by this gentleman; but it is a fact of some significance | that the name of Ba. is seldom uttered in the house without ite being | followed by “a laugh.” We shall wait with some curiosity to see | Mz. Bauu “comes out” during the session, for it will be rather too | hard if the Honourable Members are making an unfair set at him, and | only indulging in a Game at Bail. Dizzy’s “ Good-natured Friend.” “ Taere’s a great deal of absurd talk” —said a friend of Dizzr’s— | “about Bew’s cribbing that speech from Turers. Poor Ben! “Twas | only natural to wish a change of diet. The fact is, he had eaten so | many of his own words, that he thought he should relish a few of the | Frenchman’s. | J | | Inscuiption vor Exeter Hati.— Peace-work done here.”

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aes hae EY Nah lia agp spar ne ans Pe Ae ee | England loves the memory of Netson dearly? She ennobled his | him ¢here ; or Netson would long since have shaken and startled him | thence as though he had been the most craven Frenchman. ' of the man who, for years previous to T'rafalgar, crawled upon his belly 244 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. Alderman Gobble. “Wuaw-t! Putt pown Tempte Barn? On, pear! Suerray. THey'’.t BE FoR pDestroyinc Goo snp Macoc next!” ne — GRIEVANCES OF THE CHURCH. | Wuew next Convocation proceeds to discuss the “Grievances of the Church,” perbaps it will take | into consideration the subjoined intelligence :— At a recent archidiaconal visitation, there were present three pluralists whose united incomes amounted to £30,000. On Sunday last, the Veny Reverzwp tue Dean or PLumswortH had a small dinner-party. Covers were laid for the following reverend per es: the Kectors or DrowespaLe, LazenrorD, and Orium- cum-Dieotns, together with the Vicars or SnuGLEY and Swoozte, and the Recistrar of the Arch- | bishop of the diocese : whilst nevertheless, incredible as it may seem, although a dean, three rectors, two | vicars, and an Archbishop’s registrar sat down to | meat, there was only one clergyman at tab.c. | A distinguished. ecclesiastical geologist has dis- covered among the foundations of several Cathedrals the remains of provisions for extinct scholarships, the remainder of which has been swallowed up | during poaone of convulsion, and engulfed in the | maw of voracious sinecurists, or slowly consumed | and eaten away by the prebendal action of ages. | The Society for the Conversion of the Jews is making vigorous efforts to extend the sphere of its usefulness. For this purpose it contemplates amal- gamating itself with the Society for providing Curates | with Old Clothes. | | PLEA FOR PROTECTIONISTS. | Tre best apology for Lonp Dersy and his Govern- Rine vor tHe | ment is, that they defended the Cora Laws under a | mistaken idea of duty. AND NOW, A WORD ABOUT NELSON. Anp it is true what Tennyson says of Netson—addressing the Admiral by the way, in his Ode to the Duke? It is true? “ Thine island loves thee well, thon famous man ; The greatest sailor, since our world began!’ parson brother; crowning his clerical beaver with a coronet ; and when he faded from the flesh, oles that clerico-noble flesh beside the dust conveyed from the bloody cockpit of the Victory; to be reverently, devotedly followed—wept over—to St. Paul’s; even as we bave seen the dust of the great Old Duke followed and deplored. The Kar! Parson sleeps—can he sleep ?—beside his heroic, ingenuous, unsuspect- ing brother. There can be no doubt of it; nothing can stir or wake Thine island loves thee well, glorious Horatio? Let us see. On the 2lst day of October, 1805, on board of the Victory, “‘ then in sight of the combined fleets of France and Spain, distant about two miles ’—NeELSON retired into his cabin and made a codicil to his will. He left Lapy Emma Hamitton—(who had done the most vital services to England)—a legacy to his king and country. Both king and country refused the legacy; and after years of misery, dying in the very fangs of poverty, Emma Haminton passed beyond the help of Grorce THe THIRD and very merry England. She sleeps in a timber- yard in Calais ; but the Parson Earl—who stung and robbed her—lies beside his brotner. ‘ “T also leave” —writes Netson, then in sight of the combined fleets— “to the beneficence of my country, my adopted daughter, Horatia Netson Tuaompson ; and | desire she will use in future the name of Netson only. These are the only favours I ask of my king and country, at this moment when I am going to fight their battle.” But an hour or so, and a shot from the mizen-top of the Redoutadble makes those favours payab!e—payable aé sight of the slain but vic- torious admiral. But were they paid ?—No: and to this very hour the draughts remain dishonoured. This codicil was placed in the hands of brother Wrti11m—then the Parson Bart Newtson; and he—as the 7imes said in a most eloquent, withering article—made waste paper of it. But what was to be expected for Church promotion? Mark how he whines to the mistress of NELSOn :— “‘ Now we have secured the peerage, we have only one thing to ask; | and that is, my promotion in the Church, handsomely and honourab/y—such as becomes Netson’s brother and heir-apparent to the title. No put off with small beggarly stalls, Mu, AppIsGTon must be kept steady to that point. [am sure Netson is doing everything for him. But a word is enough for your good sensible heart.” But this good, sensible heart the Parson Earl flung into the street to pine and break. At the time Neison’s life streamed out with bis blood in the cockpit, Parson Nersow, with his wife and family, enjoyed the hospitality of Lapy Hamritonw. The black-coated EKari—the black went below the cloth—* quietly kept the codicil,” written it may be said in his brother’s blood, “‘in his pocket, until the day when £120,000 were duly voted” for the Netson family. The Earl dined with Lapr Hamiton that day; and, in the triumph of his baseness, gave her the codicil, telling her she might do her best with it. She did. ‘She registered it ’’—says the Times—“ at Doctors’ Commons the very next day;” and there it may be seen upon the payment of one shilling. The Parson Karl “hid his head in a coronet,” and Lapy Hamictow and Netson’s child were “let down the wind, to prey at fortune.’’ Nevertheless, sings the Court Poet to the outraged hero—nevertheless —“ Thine island loves thee well, thou famous man.” Why do we again refer to this subject—this scandal to our England ? Because we think the hour and the occasion especially call for justice to Netson’s daughter; the wife of a clergyman who—unlike Parson Wi.i1am Netson—has no thoughts of “ handsome promotion in the Chureh;” but who has nevertheless eight children. Honatia Netson, the legacy brqueathed to England, has received—but we give part of the advertisement appearing in the Times :— TELSON MEMORIAL FUND.—Provision for the daughter and only child of Ne.son, bequeathed to his country’s care on the eve of the victory of Trafalgar, in 1805.—The Trustees of this fund beg to inform the contributors that the sum collected (including donations from his Royal Hieuyess Paiyce Avpert, the Duxe or Cameripor, the Duke or Bucciavca, Eart Newson, and other eminent persons) amounts to £669 16s.4d. Of this sum part has been invested in Government Securities, and the remainder applied, at the request of Netson’s daughter, in quali- fying one of her eight children for a civil prof ; and in bling another to avail himself of a cadetey kindly given by Carrain SuHerueRp, when Chairman of the East India Company. A free passage to India is promised to another son,should any equally generous patron be fouad to offer a similar commission. {And this for the grandson of NELson !) Ought we not as a nation—we who have within these few days witnessed so full, so solemn, so glorious a homage to the memory of | WELLINGTON—to the dust of the man borne to lie beside the dust of | Nelson, as the most revered, most honoured resting-place—ought we | not to blush to read the above plea im formd pauperis for something, the smallest, the very smallest sum in liquidation of the on debt— the great national debt—still due to Netson as, by his last bequest, surrendered to bis child. Horatia Netson—to the present writing—has received £669 16s, 4d,

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eTree neuulrta? | ae i EE ee a a a

~—

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIV AR! 245

in part of her demand. Is it even s farthing in the pound? Con-

scientiously, we think not. THE EMPIRE OF BEADLEDOM. We have yet the bill to come in for the funeral of the Duke. Will Tie appeal to the Arcade on the question of the the ’ N Yet t hereditary Beadle- Ragland grades a © a large one food by the soate) | am, has Sens seupepeen to by eight millions of votes, though the thom ow undead ure th ee fc been bung sho bout | num of electors is less than a hundred, a Td Ta might have had their value. “We scarcely think that even the ten-arn, snd the Levees bovis ‘ Aap ene at ie paew eeates ane aumeciens of Gensel Wensenee—WOels | hss tele any interest in the election; and, notwithstanding what has ig And now we are fo have an architectural, = educational monument Fgh ta Ae friends of the Beadiedom, we are enabled to contra- e. A school is to be erected to memory ; ® sch0O! | his vote in an egg-cup, The Baron has maintained ta dig- whereat the children of soldiers shall be reared and instructed. A very ified utting himeelf up in his cleak and dictating ‘aber noble monument thie—glorious to the dead—benevolent to the living. stays tnt tee oli be eaieeemmaied o ae ke en A golden shower already descends upon the mere thought of the : : , institution. May the shower still fall plenteously; but while, in| "80 Submit their movements to his guidance. honour of the memory of WELLINGTON, we succour and educate the | te intend br fhe Beadle io come Gis hom, and « portenit of

children of soldiers foreign to his blood,—iet us at least do something |: : to provide for ~ ——— , ee Semichldmn of Nateox—children in awbese | and and is to dengheed oe De oy Aepheee 5 wo : : ay oe ent must be still withheld, let us for very em ped be oa in the person decency prohibit, ban the Life of Nelsom from the class-books of the The will, yay te d it is enid that en of the WetLinetow ScHoot. Let them not read how Nassom |4y. ocicbeated Pora—tt coum, be vi and it is 8 ~ his last words ri his friend Haxvy to his coumtay, | ith to out the benptcay — over from Hammer- persist her y to learn how doggedly his coumity) “ Commerce has been rather dull in the Arcade during the past week, but orders are now to come in, and several of China } ight rise in the f eran has checked the desees dell, but . : price o' c i in ut FACTION IN SHOE LANE. Gea of the Christmas holidays activity is expected. Tue Morning Herald cries exultingly— sieaiiianeie ae: “Ripped up from snout to tail, Hes Lefore ws the earease of the beast Faction | BENJAMIN’S ADDRESS TO (PARLIAMENTARY) YOUTH. How is this? We thought it was not Ineznwvovs Youth! to you I will appeal, ‘» possible to rip up without a “division?” | P And at the time the Herald rejoiced, | polity fas smog theve baad old stagers met body had divided. But the Herald roe ple ao gy yp = The Session’s humbug has not steeled them yet. termined to have Faction + ot up; You have not known of subdolous intrigue, and moreover—as barbers calves, Of thimblerig, or anything like that, and dress them as bears, #- the san- Of factious motion or designing league : — —— slaughtered <7 - You never knew a partisan to rat. 80 the Her resolved to exhibit the ° You have not learned to crack the bitter joke he La ie toe & oe Otmen who tara out otner in they sees, wet weather in very high pattens) at- promises unscrupulously broke, tending, and with her umbrella “ point- And pledges sc usly unredeemed. ing out all the imfernals of the beast Yours is the season of undoubting trust, - ii, was xX up by —_ + 8 Such as when vernal sunshine gilds the scene nife, which is a iron pen, in Her Masesty’s Pariyment, which is the Commons.” ~ ptr bede oul oth tecke td decor a fe hewn are green,

=o : ying 5 oat A Consolations in Railway Travel. That I will e’er abuse the precious loan ; Confide in me, however they may wink, Tse mail train from Plymouth having got off the line the other night, Old in the ictal paths of party grown. & newspaper paragraph states that the grumbling of the passengers was converted mto conviviality by the appearance of cigars and brandy- Like smiling Hom. and Faith, with lips apart, and-water, brought from a neighbouring hotel; by which aids to That ne’er her thumb against her nose, ilosophy they were enabled to endure a delay of some considerable List to my tale, devoid of specious art, h. This circumstance may suggest the introduction into an Act And don’t suspect whatever I propose, for the Better Regulation of Railways, of a clause obliging every train to carry spirits and tobacco for the solacement of passe x or during

any detention ; for which the mildest penalty should be fine of a| Diadem " giass of grog and unlimited cigars all round. 4 tes eo Sapesen ? Trapz has its heart as well as its . Hence, afew Parisian Fy admirers of “ihe NapoLeon—have ere A THIN HOUSE. to present new Emperor with, say the papers, “a new diadem Tux Irish Brigade will have it all their own way this Session ; for, | 8 with diamonds,” May we be be allowed to suggest bullets instead ? with the exception of Cotowet Sistuorr, Mz. Booker, the Maxquis| !hey would be incomparably cheaper, and at the same time would or Grawsy, and one or two more extreme Protectionists, the yond | more truly illustrate the ae by which the Emperor bas obtained his chief parties in the House—the Ministerialists and the Free Traders— | sovereignty. Bullets by all means, subscribed too—(we doubt not are six of one and half-a-dozen of the other. bey they might, with due search be found)—from the very hearts of THE MONARCHY OF MALT AND HOPS. An indefatigable Librarian. We have heard a great deal about the Ale-Kings of late; but there} Me P ANIzz1, hearing some gentlemen make allusions to “the Book are no such monarchs reigning; they are all X- Kings ; indeed, | of Nature,” goes rushing wate chow town, making inquiries who is | sovereigns of XX and XXX. | the publisher, in order that he may serve him with a summons to the | Police Court for not having sent a copy of the Book of Nature to the Goitpew Prospects.—Some half-dozen tons of gold were imported | British Museum. afew days ago. We shall probably soon hear of “pigs” of gold; and certainly the form of the pig would be that most appropriate to| A ¥Ficnt ow Puraszotocy.—The whole debate in the House bas filthy luere. been as to the terms of the Protectionist surrender.

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Puerco

Hct he mg Ai

| rrr OO eal ate

_ aught we know, with a wife and six children.

786 dangerous situation. Very luckily the bottle was picked up by Lorp PatMerston— and this satisfactorily accounts This was mere bombast and burlesque, of course. In venting such | for the manner in which he hastened to the assistance of the sinking seemingly atrocious language, he was only, as it were, a in| ship, and has been the means of saving for a short time Diszazii the character of a disaffected and furious political priest. approve of this mode of holding our opponents up to execration, if that was CAHILL’s object; still we might have given him due credit for intentions at least good towards us. For simply personating a priestly firebrand, a man is no more to be blamed ‘han Mr. O. Sur is for e may not | and his miserable crew from a complete

News from the Vatican. having played the Devil. We hail the appearance of Caniit ingenuine| Ir is stated that the Pors has ordered the “restoration” of Ra- motley—instead of the party-coloured vestments of superstition. Why | PHAEL’s pictures. should he not write for Punch ? We repeat our hope that we have not | infallible receipt. For picture-cleaning Infallibility of course has an To renovate the pictures of Raruart may be a injured him in his profession—if it is that of a jester. For, instead of | barbarism ; but if the deed is done by Papal authority, no doubt the being a malignant Popish parsop, the man may really be a worthy | pictures will wink Protestant jack-pudding, a respectable mountebank, a meritorious Merry-Andrew, struggling to get his living by honest buffoonery—for} Rstuer too H but Ma. VILLIERs

at it.

arp.—The Ministers were ready to eat humble pie ; wanted to make them devour dirty pudding.

rmted by Willem Bradbury, of No. 13, Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of $t. Pancras, :od Frederick Mullett Bvana, of No.7, Chure Preciact of Whitefriars, Jee in Lomorr. Street, in the of im the City af London, a.d "udiished by them at No.5, Fleet Street, in the h Bow, Stoke ey ye the County of Middlesex, Printers, at the'r Parish of St. Dride’s in the City of Londen.—Sarvapar, Decmber +n, 1852. THE COMIC CAHILL. | NAKROW ESCAPE OF DISRAELI AND HIS CREW.

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o~ = -* --* Pom FROME SERPS SRS i ie a eee oe ee aa 4S || THEATRE ROYAL, WESTMINSTER. BY OUR SLASHING CRITIC. T last the “ great” novel of the season, the wo for the appearance of which the public, tanta lized by a long series of preparatory puffs, had begun to look with a sort of interest, actually It is called The Budget. The terous length of the affair must, upon the present occasion, be its protection, for it oc- cupied five and ten minutes in the per- formance. Criticism in detail ix out of the tion. Nor, indeed, is it our custom ever to be severe, and least of all upon a production which, whatever we may think of its merits, bas un- doubtedly given employ- ment to great numbers of persons, and has been placed upon the boards with nosmall i Suty Woe dunal ustry. e are di to let the public voice decide its fate. The manifestations of a wearied house, on Friday night were so equivocal, that we can hardly accept them as a sentence. The author, Mz. Dizzy, was re-demanded several times, but, when he appeared, his reception was not compli . We saw, indeed, during the evening, several pieces of orange peel near him, and though we did not observe that any apples were flung, we remarked in his proximity what looked very much like old crabs—they may, however, have only been the faces of some dissatisfied supporters of the management. The Budget is not a work depending so much upon strong effects, as upon the elaborate working out of a given idea. Certain figures are taken as. and, though automatons, they are subjected to systematic manipulation, which at length makes them bear an interest to which no Ly ap can be insensible, The plot— if so it may be called (though the rea! plot bad obviously been worked out beft the affair Sma—t upon the adventures and perplexities of a lady who isa also a holder of manufactories, Mrs. Britain. She is a tolerably kindly not over wise, but with good instincts, which keep her, speaking, in the right path; but, from hints which are given of her we learn that she is always being victimised. Any beggarly foreigner, if he pretend to have a title, is sure of her hospitality; but she is and sometimes treats her own dependents with harshness. A needle- woman who comes to make up her dresses is over-worked and ill-paid ; and a young lady, who resides with her to instruct the children, is snubbed, and sent into the kitchen, in a vulgarly arbitrary manner. In some other matters she is foolishly obstinate, insisting that al! the sinks of her house shal! run into a pretty fish-stream under her best drawing-room window, and that the family kittens shall be drowned there; so that the water, which might be ornamental, is offensive. There is a pic- a church attached to her mansion, but she spoils its effect by opening a chureh- in the midst of her kitchens and -rooms, A parcel of lawyers are ging about her, and pretending to improve her property, and she has not the sense to see that they are mere thieves. This is the heroine of The Budget. It developes nearly a year of her domestic and other vexations. She incurs enormous expenses ; but, prop-ry managed, her estate would bear them, and much retrench- ment might be e. Each new steward she gets promises wonders. Her last, one Wood—a good-natured fellow, but avowedly ignorant of arithmetic—was got into her service by some rich relatives of his, named Grey, who seem to have feathered their nests well, out of Mrs. Britain's property. Her new steward is of Hebrew descent, and so takes kindly to figures; and, of course, has all sorts of PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARLI. 247 le and some troublesome quack-salvers, with their sal are served the same way. And her household vey of toffy, Benny arranges for the treacle and molasses to be ay into the house, so that it may be made at home; but he snubs the grocer—who wants a little money account, being in difficulties—and tells him if he can’t his old workinen, to catch a China-man at a crossing, make him work for him, And so Benay makes thin plausible enough. Meantime gatherer, a scheme for getting an enormous sum out of Mrs, Britain for taxes on ber house; and, though he time, he concerts, with the tax- came off on Friday night. | oid = ail BEe 4 HOMAGE TO THE INFLEXIBLE. Henr’s toGaansy And the staunch fifty-five ; the minority all, Whom argument never could render untrue, No rhetoric conquer, no reason subdue. With facts and with figures though pelted like rain, nshaken as posts did those heroes remai Statistics upon them were hurled by the foe, Not an inch they recoiled—for they felt not a blow. As the goose throws the water-drops off of its back, Impervious as firm, they repelled each attack, In genuine proof-armour encased they were hit To no purpose by proofs; to as little by wit. Give me those that self-evident majors won’t grant, ae aes deay, not ome they can’t, And dispute the conclusion they Tei contain. If the country were ruled by such counre!s as theirs, We should soon see a different state of affairs The loaf would fast rise, and the peo ie would not, At least if they did they’d be or be shot. Or should revolution and ruin ensue, The hearty old Knglish Protectionist crew — Would remain at their till the old oe went down, Exclaiming, “ Hooray for the Country and Crown!” Different Vehicles of Government. Tue French drive—the ide. This is best ed by bringing forward i vehicles which been chosen by the two nations as symbols of their look | respective Governments. In France they talk of their shifts and dodginesses to try His name is Benny Diction, and in his own diction, “Char de U Etat.’ \n England, we speak of our Vessel which is excellent, he announces himself as “ a real biersing.” His devices to keep things going, and to make Mrs. Britain believe that her affairs are being splendidl administered, form the — of The Budget. He gets her grocer to knock o fourpence-halfpenny a pound in her tea, and her maltster to take off sixteen-pence a bushel in her malt, which they can both well afford to do, as the first has been cheating her all her life, and as the other bas just had some great gains by means of some law spe gay Then Benny gets some tolls in the neigh- bourhood taken off, and some charges for night-lights reduced; and a fellow in @ pilot coat, who bullies her visitors a good deal, is handed to the sessions, of State. The chariot may be taken as expressive of the way in which the French drive matters upon land; and the vessel, we think we may, without much vanity, assume as figurative of the manner in which the English guide the course of events at sea. Two Borriz-mMew.—Lonp Patmenstow and Bensamun DisRaz1i. ce and Newpereare, Sistuorr and Batt, | |

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aie rtd Bias ar a Niele A bbe & i = = a3 ea ayy | can weigh above four | the ordinary rules of ‘honest m 248 "PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI CHICORY AND CHICANERY. We have most of us heard of the traditional old joke said to ciren- | late in cheap eating-houses, as to the propriety of having the flies on a separate plate, when “ one "of currant pie” is ordered in the dog-days, | by some hungry dog who is having his day, and indulging in a three- penny pile of coarse pastry. same class of requirement is likely | to arise at the shops, from the habit of mixing chicory with coffee, and no little surprise will be excited by the smallness of the quantity of the latter, when a purchaser of half-a-pound of coffee draws the line between that article and chicory, by ne to have them separate. ils =" * Mutt} Ivins > ‘Wl ni i i “Ay a! Hi -y nN V9 hy > y ; y Wy y ‘ea F’ iti¢ WaT | ce f = ‘ jf AT | Wh i | P ‘ Do you call that a quarter of a —- of Coffee ?” TRAVELLING NOTES. BY A SCOTCHMAN WHO HAS GONE BACK. CHAPTER II. “ Bluter Castle, near Knockintulloch, Bligmurdochshire. “Tie famous town of Drumsieekie lies upon a river, flowing towards | the sea—like Florence. It is always delightful to me, as a Scotchm to notice these remarkable cases of resemblance. [| suppose you wi hardly deny that Florence is beautiful? The inference is obvious, and I am delighted, Punch, to have you there! “T woke very fresh and jolly at the Eaglesham Arms, next morning. I was surrounded by classic associations. To go no further than the Eaglesham, (and, indeed, why should one go further before breakfast ?) it was from that inn, that in the last century, Datzett or THE ScauR set out, after that very great dinner which commemorated the defeat of Momwerton, who presumed to contest the county with the eldest son of the Fart oy Muravow.! Datzext, I say,set out for = me | from the ham. He seems to have been in am eesentric frame of mind, for it is said, that the last time he was seem—he was ing with beth less projecting from the carriage windows! The c carriage tumbled over ! | & precipice—for Scotland is a little hilly im some I must admit— |) and Datzect was killed. By the bye, the conch, killed too; b depend that. if the. Lair ied wes killed, ut you may 4 ‘nobody bestowed much attention om the aS dies became of the coachman. “The Eaglesham fives you agg 4 breakfast ; im fact, it’s the phan est inn, perhese. in Dru \ county gentry mostly bat uP Murrrow1 family, wien they psy Rett horses there. ~t that settles the question! At the rival establishment, however, (over the way, they boast an historical association. For there-the Pre- supped, when he was on his way south to invade England—and [ haye not the least doubt supped very jollily, if he had any of the qualities of his family in him. The people of the house have stuck up inscription in the chamber where this august event took | saying, ‘ The people of Drumsleekie wished the departure of the | Army, because they were Loyal.’ I am sure I don’t doubt the loyalty | of the people of Drumsleekie, but I dare say they wished the departure | of the rebel army from other—not quite so romantic—feelings. It is |on record, also, that the Prince carried off the Provost; which is more | than any ‘invader, I think, would be found to do, now-a-days. But, ‘these are quieter ‘and more happy times.. | “The general as ct of Drumsleekie ‘hie round tone. Pe impel eae stone churches, and streets op a with white round stones. Pe It will be found that. the adulteration will far outweigh the genuine Street is even ale in its ap ab pein a but mt say majestic.* e stranger tor a article; and indeed we might suggest. “ Magna est chicorpet prevaletit,” as an appr motto to be placed over almost any London coffee-shop. If the regulation against mixing chicory with coffee is to be enforced, there should be a new scale of weights for the use of the grocers, as it is quite impossible that a pound of unchicoried coffee) if the profits of it are to be the same as ine Measure has a been exempted from easurement; and we suppose that | Coffee Measure must henceforth have a set of weights of its own, by | which a pound of coffee may bear about the same proportion to a pound of anything else, as a quart bottle of wine is found to bear to a jnart of any other liquid. they have been hitherto Protection Gone to the Dogs. Toe CHANCELLOR oF THS Excazequer has long been an advocate | for a good political cry. As the Protectionists, from Lorp Danay down to Mea. CuatstopHgr, have, it appears, made up their minds.to “bow” to the country, Punch recommends them to adopt for their new cry, “ Bow, wow, wow!” “ PICTURES SAFELY REMOVED.” For terms apply to the Trustees and K who have had the cleaning of the Pictures of the National Gallery, for their plan of removal is certainly the most effectual that has ever been tried with regard to pictures—so effectual, in fact, that after a short time, there’s | nothing of the original picture left! THE SUSCEPTIBILITIES OF FOREIGNERS, Orpers have been given by the Loxap Cuampertarny, that the Battle of Waterloo is never to be performed again at AsTLEY’ 8, for fear} of wounding the susceptibilities of fa foreigners. A Noste Expowment.—A Contemporary says: “ We have much pleasure in stating that Sim Peter Lauaie, has been giving his undivided mind lately to the interests s of Bedlam.” provincial town, feels a sensation like that which he feels in |—when he gets into an omnibus, He feels that he has emerged fron hi his absolute solitude, and become an object of tion. But, further than that, he has an odd sensation from the ‘between his romantie notion of the place, historically, and the place itself. For example, who does not know, that *twas in Drumsleekie that Bauce slew the Rep Comyn ! ? Why, there’s a.great family proud to this day, that their ancestor ‘ finished’ on the occasion, by in may him the final stab. At least, they derive their crest ifs motto the deed and word then ormed and uttered. If you | were to ask at Drumsleekie to be shown = Pe would, doubtless, be told, ‘ Just by Dick Breexs, the tailor’s REEKS lives and does | his necessary trade-work, there (we require him in the South—so none of your old jokes, Mr. Punch !) Son, ae Se ek ee See y doesn’t feel Mee ty oat "the Weep Ce . But this is an every- day matter to them: Bruce slew the Comyx on that spot—and "twas there Dick Baeexs made the ‘bailie’s’ Sunday trousers. “ Apropos of trousers, I must not omit. to register a ‘note’ on something pew 5 wey another part of Drumsleekie. There is a house—a very small house (not. without an interest to. be noticed presently )—boasti ‘this inscription—‘ M‘Gusk, renovator of ’apparel.” I s and contemplated that announcement wi ante I defy touke to produce one more dignified, more whole operation —whatever the operation may be—must lose all its ae ey in the hands of M‘Gusx. You are not, when you employ him, an econamic individual bent on having your clothes made look newer—bless you, ‘you're a gentleman having your apparel renovated ! It makes all the difference. You are always quizzing us in for our economic solicitude; you must admit, that while we preserve our clothes, we likewise preserve our dignity. “M'Gusk gave my spirits a fillip that morning, disappointment about the Bauce and Rep Comy™ scene. | went about and made a call or two. I looked up a near relation.of mine—a sixth cousin. We are related this way. M‘Srieucnan or Biurer PEE * We harily know sometimes when M’‘Srievcnan is laughing and when serious.— Ep.

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PUNCH. OR THE L ONDON CHARIVARL. The Scotchman in his own country is a better i regiment. | was sober. Don’t your kinsmen ? “Has not M‘Srrevcnan or Barcxe- abuseit. I have heard: family ‘traditions ’ cover : ost the estate,) say, Gorpon or Hate stayediomeewith Gorpon or GaivsMUIa so’remorse- lessly, that they were @bliged‘to serve him up his spurs, im a side- dish. This, however, wasanextveme case. Wenever did even a thing entertainsienit-which followed’ the funeral of Buack | , Searece’a man in the parish (0/'| ut you are periaps not‘aware, my dear Punch, that the swell thing he ) is*to goto the Episcopal Church. The Murarow. be Epi ; a few of the inhabitants of the of om Drumsleekie ——o — is large as Leicester Square) ; soit is ‘thought by some i ’ to go there likewise. "This is a polite Presbyterianism, and ing the Seottish It is practised even by fellows who come of genuine Presbyterian breed, and who have recovered (with interest) the ears i lost in the cause in the times of persecution. “When Dheard of a fact like this, my eyes were wont to wander igh Street in which, on summer evenings, certain —Rospert Burns. “ But this is opening a subject too wide for my present space, though, rhaps, the jaunty young gent | met t’other day would think otherwise. e was of opinion, | remember, that such intruders as Buaws should be ‘ put down.’” i r m snubbi g The Difficulty of Saying No. | Tus difficulty has never been so wonderfull recently, where, in the matter of the election of Emperor, no more than 253,145 persons could found to say “No;” whereas, near upon 8,000,000 came forward to say “ Yus.” This is a curious example of the politeness and try of Frenchmen, who have elected a man like Louis Narotzow Emperor of ce, sooner than hurt his feelings by proved as in France saying “No” tohim. Certainly, the French are the politest nation in the world ! Cae | Doing a Goed for an Evil Turn. Tue Times has lately favoured the public with one or two very curious specimens of Curling papers. The Curling process, as shown by these papers, is remarkable for its power of twisting and turning ina manner so completely at variance with anything straight or following a} right line, that a patent might safely be applied for by the Reverend proprietor. * We have again applied the pruning knife.— Ep. + The reader is cautioned not to take facts like this on M‘Srizvcaan's assertion only.— Ep. t We don’t donbt it in the least.—Ep } “THOSE OPTOUS EPITHETS.” Farerp has sent us the following pathetic line: which were foun under the Cuan- CBLLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER'S seat, the night he delivered his now famous speech on Mr. ViILuiens’ motion. Whe- ther the Right Honourable Gen- tleman bad him- self found so- lace in compesing them, or bher they “ware ‘sent him by ‘some a brother Member, ‘must, we ‘fear, for ever Tomain a secret, which, of course, explains our immediately publishing them :— Axa.—** Oh fono, we never mention her.’ «we’|l never sanctionvit : LIERS is absurd, To think!that tamely we ’deubmit To onewtieh odious word, From Hieuse:to Louse they worry me, Ne’er 80 hunted yet,— But no! we"llmot be “ "by An odious epithet ! ’Tis true with fouler words than these I badgered Ropeat Peet, Tis true | called him all the names That man could coin—or steal : But now I’m grown so sensitive, My nerves i quite upsets To be attacked in public with Such odious epithets ! I'll bow to the majority : What must be, must—of course : 1’ll eat the leek—why should it Be served with ViLtieus’ sauce ? be I promised to restore 'rotection—one forgets : I’m Free-trade now : but pray withdraw ious epithets ! Cullen and his Chains. Da. CuLLey, in his-late pastoral, accuses certain “ proselytizers” of endeavouring to forge new chains for their Catholic countrymen at home. Nobody that we know of attempts to forge any chains for | Catholics, except the chains that are caleulated to fetter the under- ——- and these, surely, are not the workjof Protestant black- smi! BLACK AND WHITE. Suxce the Reverznp Messtevas Curtine and Exiiotr have figured so dis tably in the columns of the 7imes, it is not improbable that a falsehood will henceforth go by the mild—and only too appro- priate —ti' le of a clerical error.

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PUNCH, OR TiIE LONDON ME CHARIVARI * i |’ Hi vt i me di | i , | fe th ANN | \| |] THE TWO PLURALISTS. MANY HUNDREDS. HOW WE BURIED PROTECTION. BY A MINISTERIAL MUTE. Your burial-jobs may be sad sort of things For the strf’uns and parties as mourns ’em, But we fun’ral performers, we laughs and we sings, And for tears and all that there—we scorns ’em ; Our saddest o’ mugs is a mug of good beer, With our plumes we packs up our faces, And we la While atop of the hearse in our places. In course for the job makes me sad nob, Which you pulls off at close of the sarvice, And as sorrow is dry, there’s a good reason why, None’s so wet as your mournin’ coach jarvies ; Anyways "taint no worse to be drivin’ a hearse, _ Than a cab, or a wan, or a carriage ; You gets your five bob for a funera! job, As you does for a christ’nin or marriage. As for walkers, and bearers, and stavesmen, and mutes, What odds is the togs a man walks in ? There’s some on us goes in Lord Mayors’ City shows, Some as supers the theatres stalks in. and we chaff—it’s quite pleasant to hear— But a show is a show, whatsomever the name, Gay or glumpy don’t matter a biffin; And for what a chap follows, why that’s all the sam-, If a sheriff or only a stiff "un, ’*Tother day the kind Fates "pointed me and my mates Undertakers—for Gover’ment business— With such lots o’ black jobs, that no wonder my nob’s Rayther queered with what they calls dizzyness ; Bat | may say the lot of “ performers” we ve got, Is such as must give satisfaction To parties we buries; now, there’s old Jack Hennutzs, Stale he may be, but still what fine action! And then there ’s Joz Hewxer, and that there young Staw_tey— Steady lad, though his father’s own son, Sir; While to bear p!umes or bi there ’s handsome Jouw Manwens Does that, as it’s never been done, Sir. As for Deasy, d’ye see, 'twixt the post, you and me, He ’s a drag, p’rhaps, upon the concern, Sir; Bat him I’ve booked up too, ’cos he’s much looked up to, And, old as he is, he can learn, Sir.

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THE UNDERTAKERS CAROUSING AFTER THE BURIAL OF PROTECTION.

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eptncamy ont aneeneaen

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI 253 Bo I think, siinetiies ‘tate give me fine weather, And vals for to frustrat fe ST aa | THE HEIGHT OF GERMAN ROMANCE. HE French believe that T’ll turn out a job you'll call /ust-rate. ee Why, "twas but t’other day, didn’t we stow away E . La er One, for whom some professed great affection— é Her age it might be somewhere near thirty-three, | You know her I mean—Muss Protection. | imputation on - intel : Han Maszsty’s ——- y eyes, what a lot of people was got © _~ i Germans appear to | Together to see that gal buried ! . \ entertain an idea still Six : oe a ns more must. have been round the door— more shocking. We my men was quite flurried. ii be quote the Examiner : The Teal Sir Sir, ra in my hat-band and cloak, a ee wy } “Romovaep Berroraar or | One Gaansy and was chief mourne es z ; Tae Priwcess Rova..—The With old Mus. Gamp—as quite wept herself . , Augsburg ; : Allgemeine Zeitung | Many joined.’em, but slipt off round corners. Aj . . yA -—- — Some few, by their crying, seemed to feel for her dying : Pa euaenemae, to te. Old servants—they always most suffers— Abs i | : S) trothed tothe Paivoxss Roy at About fifty-three their whole bilin’ might be, } Steady, elderly, top-booted buffers. who “ ” why in course we was warmed— (One wants spirits on these sad occasions,) But quite stiff and steady, with faces already Made up to suit grave situations : And t could be graver than was‘our behaviour— Few’d have — to-see such solemn creepers, That ‘neath long cloaks and scarfs was such lots o’ good larfs, And such fun dressed in hat-bands and weepers. To see men misbehave, on their way to the grave, x, — ike—and ” they finds ae says to my men, you goes again, You may sky4ark—till then come it grumpy.’ Well, we stowed her away, eters} may ay Chaps ne’er had a pleasanter ride, Si me and my me, as we cane back again On the ee cosy outside, Sir. Black cl ae ee et ys en

A GLASS OF FRIENDSHIP WITH FRANCE. “Mr. Puncn, , “A SENSIBLE writer in the Times, signing himself Viator, “ He had never before speculated in marriage. He was under 90 years of age. did not care about his wife's age, as he wanted a companion in a woman, and money between us. A nation o he might give her favour.” | Se might as well’ cut their own throats as hig & down which their ~~~ However, this not v gentleman in fact, a foreigner. is poured by their customers ; they would so poses the} He wan above 12 year of Rear eas Light wines, moreover, are salubrious as well as pleasant ; to understand the by their cheap admission, therefore, we should not only lessen the chances of hostile invasion, but also diminish the freq of attacks. Increased consumption would compensate for paw we should gain security without losing revenue, and be cnaliied ttinaclary expedient of siding ~~ = -- at heap oe |! . ourselves to c wine. + whe SS ek ee ioe any difficulty apprehended collecting am q sure | the means Pye gee Establishment in Fleet Street, commanding tas a ly 4 Lovts NaPozow says he has accepted the ee ae cna <a L beg to forward my card to your because ths ben bestowed pom i) he oe Mr. Punch ; and with the assurance that I have the nicest “in | io letnben or else the logic the world, and am <— any to appraise any quantity of French “regard consequences. or other wine, to subscribe m a+ a “Your Constant Reader, “,« WISE, JUST, AND BENEFICIAL MBASURE. “ Gustavus.” Tae Quart Bottle—if there were any possibility of meeting with one | but we suppose Ma, Disnagii, having certain bitter recollections that measure, would oppose the application of the terms, and The Ignoble Art of Self-Defence. ‘them as “odious epithets.” present Ministers still endeavour in private to take credit for aes Protectionist principles, their argument being that for Self-Protection Maxt™ vor THE Stauncn Miwontry.—An honest politician may be they have sonniioed everything. often tried, but is never open to conviction.

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+ ba yan Namie? Sm it em hey 254 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL oa A PRESENT FROM GALWAY. {YE GENTLEMEN OF ENGLAND. wth The squabbles of M. P.’s. inition ‘ a a Suggested by a late fracas, Se VIN {R EFRESHME Ye gentlemen of England AT NO | /8 akan > ——_— ho read debates at ease, oo }} NY \W ae How little do ye think u c— ; lt HA ree f r shiital tN “ze a ) ne je A W Pea — = “ One Honourable lifts his cane To castigate a foe, With a smack on tne back ; Bat, no sooner struck the blow, Than the assailant rons away As fast as he can go. Bat want of spirit always Is impotent to save, For the legs are very soon tripped up Of him the stripes that gave. Then one M P. in gutter fei! : Your cheeks with shame will glow, When epi told, as he relied On the pavement to and fro, From foot and hand, while he was down, —— : S: 28 He got both kick and blow. ~ at Bis ae pS Britannia boasts her bulwarks, Sn poo nie cates o Ker Praen Snu>” 6 san ASL MMS ( Mu embers jiament. (iy ce US pl , Whe talk and vote and sleep : wt z . . -—, The thunders that her statesmen spoke emmy) )PNNNNUOVN WWM, iin) PE _. 1111 ad Dy A, CLT Oe —-- — — we , re hurled through the { : — What a pity it should know, “ Mistaur Ponca, Esquire, Two Mem all about a cab, = ‘ Bas lok to Je for a blackgard and thial of the world, that hove cvafatation and | the coward’s biow. ridicule from the bow of impertinence agin our pathriotic Prastehood, and pours the arrows of contimpt from the urn of arrogance on the heads of the holy and venerated epistles of the Each pe poe of England | Irish successors of the Apostles. This comes to inform ye of the intintion I cherished of | Will feel his cheek to burn, comin over to London to assist in the filliloo of the Funeral, and take that opportunity of That Honourable Members tellin ye a bit o’ me mind with the tongue o’ me fist through the madium of a sprig o’ | Have still so much to learn. shillelagh. Defated in that laudable design by an unforeseen combination of circumstances, Ye House of Commons’ warriors, L adopt the alternative of sending you my picthur, as | tuk by an artist of ’T is time that ye should know, imminence on the platform of the Galway Station, ready for the voyage to England, when | 'Tisa on your name suddenly compelled to stay where I was most offensive manner that may be agreeable have only to the other side of the way. A PRETTY PLACE AT TUNBRIDGE WELLS! We have been asked what we think of the advertisement subjoined which appeared, lately, in the Zimes -— WANTED, in a tradesman’s family (a widower, with three girls, the youngest nive), an active, cheerful, domesticated PERSON, who understands the Frene! language, bas a good knowledge of music, and is a good dressmaker, and woule not object to housework, which is light. Washing, &c. all put out. As the person will be treated as one of the family, a small salary only will be given. No other servant kept. Address, with full particulars, stating age and salary required, t& G. M., Grove Hill, Tunbridge Wells. After sixty seconds’ mature deliberation, our opinion is that this announcement has been put forth for a bet. We conjecture thatG. M, in a moment of eccentricity, laid a wager to the effect that such dest:- | | tution exists among G vernesses, that he would obtain an answer fron at least one yous lady of that class, to an offer of a situation so monstrous and insulting as the above. He must be a bold man to have laid a bet which not only existing facilities for emigration, but chancer of obtaining a maid-of-all-work’s place in any r spectable family, render so hazardous. We should also say he was a rather unfeeling person, to sport thus with the distress of poor young ladies, if we did not con- sider that his intention might be to surprise the starving applicant with a generous proposal—perhaps that of becoming the mother of his | children. If we are wrong in these surmises, we can only suppose that business being very slack at Tunbridge Wells, the tradesmen of that town have got up the foregoing advertisement, for the purpose of attracting ap influx of visitors to see the remarkable beast that may be viewed, on application, in the shape of G. M., at Grove Hill. ap ceed back again for want of the dhirty railway fare. Sur, I desire that ye will consider yourself insulted by my porthrait in the | to your feelings as a man of honour: and | | that my likeness represents me as ye would have seen me in Fleet Street, | if | hada’t been obliged to be present elsewhere on Thursday, November the Eighteenth, | 1852, hurling defiance and mud at your Office window, and goin to pull your long nose from “| have the disgraceful honour to be, Sur, “Your Gatweoran ConTIMPoRARY.” To have sunk so very low, In a street fight to give, at night, The unbecoming blow. Tue Taise or Lewis.—Although Louis Na- POLEON has destroyed most of the liberties of France, bis financial operations show that he still respects the system of Jewry. A MOOREISH LULLABY. On, rest thee, young pee. thy Prospects are . Thy brother’s Archdeacon, your uncle’s a'l right : The stalls and the tithes, and the Th Pal abel "bel ey 8 ong, My young Parson, to thee. Ob, rest thee, young Parson, the time it may come When your gains shall amount to an apnual plum : ® Then —s — young Parson, and he : — reap you may, aaa For down comes the system as sure as the day. | — ——— a —— — Playing the Old Masters. Ir appears that the authorities presiding over the National Gallery | bave been picture-cleaving again, to the detriment of Craupe’s “* Marriage of Isaac and Rebecca,” “ jation,” and “ Embarcation | of the Queen of Sheba ;” the last of which paintings, in particular, has | wofully suffered. How strange that these gentlemen never can clean | pictures without getting into a scrape!

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i |i ali f a ees ie fal gate i |} g igus PROFESSOR PUFFY AT THE CHRISTMAS CATTLE-SHOW. itt i He Bsadase 3 F ay ait 52 8 iba an THE EMPIRE OF BEADLEDOM. rT ee a a i ht inl: tt fe | ii 4 rs. fe bus E ti iit A jo 4) | } pe ef reas Sete ‘lit in hel He it t liquor, he ywhieh reaily is chicory ! l’ve i wee y stated on, without heeding per to pass ; ick, black, s were all pleading, we should go surprise; rapt alarm and But, far greater When the Exclai You r’s Greek,— [ ONTGOMERY)— my ancesto sang by Homer a The Great Boar Mean, med, ’d have Flitch won for himself and thefair Aratanta | That the bold Mguzaecemhad.ne’erhad to vaunt a Not speak! Don’t you know i had care St. AwTHOWY, preac’ deeply hurt, Arts in Egypt, and Nawpr ys and high days, Fridays ; good Saint, his hair-shirt ? ys old locus standi, t fast don’t their AE S85 And how, when he died, the Of his favourite’s bristles yo ote eat acorns on W. i Ui. power, and grace, | majesty, Joum B and s ball ling, which [ais So wae see gs to require ’em the Stows or the Srnypz ULL will deem it a type), small diffrence could ted their kin of Greece in like To describe their And if, ‘ Why ha: clearly satisfies me ; promp sculp rom Australia, of *T wixt a man That its And this fee’ To carve this when I can ;” and he private position as long as a pot PT half-and-half. The effect was a ee by his new ti ) ; you should cry ; » im reply. let drop, with a view to a chop; worthy disciple of Brana ut we VIsHNUSARMA manner, and drove ’em great semivirumque hovem. virum, ve beasts ceased to talk ?’ ‘ * He treasured each hint that our fathers You but look at a named Pripay, * Where ’s the wisdom of Hsor?’ I ask Neither he, nor Fired the poets (Whom you have

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Lhe te RG aati EN Npuaitee 96 ny 2 Wey edn i ee of 18 E E ile a | nel in z bai i EO: ‘ll D.D., Dax or Nomwicn,” to the rectory of Chart, Kent, valued in the Clergy List at £668 per annum ; this dean since the of grace 1899, beld the rectory of St. Dionis et adv y Rich—we beg his Very Reverend ery —Dzay or Noawicu, ie déubtiees—be ons to be—a handsome contributor to the Clerical Olid Clothes Bag: a contributor of cassocks bet Ete patched, cnn of andi ane not extremely threadbare. The Bisnor or we trust, stuffs it with habits of cbarity, 0 t not outworn. The Bisnor or Exersn’s suits go, probably, to fill the bine bag of his lawyer by. the ides of Gene. Steneting opneiens. coe eneueetnd parsons wearing old clothes of ri Does the Society above. | mentioned sometimes the old clothes of the original wearer, and does it ever get “done” by a bishop or a dean putting a farthing into | a waistcoat pocket? Into many surplices for an attenuated curate ee ee one lh be : m a working clergyman made ou in how would sch s labouring son ofthe. Chur in the shoes a lazy i saese wan on ehenenioene man who professed to be gifted with insight into the spiritual world, and who published his experiences, or imaginations of te phenomena. According to him, it is one of the laws of that kingdo es i Would you not be conscio bedizened like a beadie? To enter into the working-man, you not being one, would you not be helped by donning a brown paper cap and an apron ? , Suppose, one of our lean curates—quoted at from £25 ia the Narrow Lane , or Keclesiastical Gazette, inducted into the) femoralia, or nether canonicals, of a prelate; in short, putting om a| bishop’s breeches—how would he feel? That the breeches have to be taken considerably in for one thing, perhaps. But he might also be conscious of a d humility. He might begin to think a little better than Small imeelf, and to form a self| good dinners. He might even be sensible of vague indistinct emotions — ee ee ae: Chateau-Margaux, or Johannisberger The fee, ty RE maples fo eS © enews eae qe Sa WWicther, ox the other band, the proletionl nether gurmente woeld imbue our poor Curate with any thought of moral famine and destitution, arising from want of working clergy, depending on of provision for their maintenacce, chargeable on 1 endow- ment of sees, may be a question. It is not very that they would the mitre itself puts any such anxiety into few More probably the breeches would impart a sense of ease and comfort, tending to subdue and quiet misgivings of that sort pate ones + epee would hard! ah ee a ree — pop clothes are better for poor Curates none at ee pled gy gee oy forable old for Lea and seb, sto raped the Socety to for providing Curstes with the latter, the Heads the Church might form an Association in an aspect superiors. Fancy Portrait or Ma. Bowt, tae Buokgn-Heaatep Prorectionist.” . Just the Size for it! Ae Dusmasas len. ne lenges guy wes. Ser bis Reeetin Reet Baier | for he certainly has abandoned that trick, though he may made up for his loss by acquiring one or two fresh ones—may we be allowed to recommend his keeping the Bottle for some future purpose, or ment? It may come in useful to hold Lc that we are ised after the Deasy Ministry has been swept away. | There would be plenty of room for it, and would bottle it up nicely, | and so prevent it committing any excess of damage. Rather Poetical but Quite True. Tue ancients, with due reverence and dread, Placed in an urn the ashes of their dead ; The modern French the practice have ued Though with no sentiment but fear i d, For Freedom’s ashes, with abasement vast, Into th’ electoral urn they meanly cast. ““May Good Digestion Wait, &c.” Ly reply toa question put to him in the House of Commons on estimate rather at the rate of Old Port. It is likely that his | Thursday night, the Home Secretary said that the Government did not appetence would exceed bread and cheese ; some sugzestions of sirloin, | intend to propose that the whole of the law should be digested. We if not of venison and tartle, might be communicated to his interior by | are not surprised at this, for how is it possible to digest that which those “shorts” which had formed the outermost continent of so many! nobody is able to swallow ? poy hy William ey ty ty Wobarn Place, im the Farioh 0: St. Paneras, snd Prederick Muilett Evans, >i No. 7, Chereh Rew, Stove Newington, both in the Ueus' of Midd enex Drptere, Strvet, in the Preeinet of Whitefriars. in the City of Londo», aud Published by them at No. %, Fleet Strest,:m the Partuh of St. Bride sto the City of Lenten deepens. December lith, \95¢. a teow

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PUNCIL OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. THEATRE ROYAL, WESTMINSTER. BY OUR SLASHING CRITIC. = HE entertainments this week have been of a slight and desultory character, the ma- nagement being, we presume, glad to “put up” anything they could get, while the great novelty, The Budget, was being - — (CHT-ANn rendered more fit for the boards House-Taz, or the than on its ill-advised produc tion. We looked in for a shor: time at the second performance of this affair on Friday last, but could see no great im- provement, except L_* re of the ex-stewa ood, oe “up” a little. His ad- advice to Benny not to be ashamed of bungling his ac- counts, as he, Wood, had often sent in an account wrongl) cast up three times running, told upon the House ; and the smartness of Dandy Tom, a light character, by no means new to the stage, but always welcome, imparted a motion to the business. We also thought we listened to some sentiments for which the author of the Lady of Lyons is responsible: and the applause they received was by no means meant for the successful plagiarist who is understood to have concocted the Budget. On Monday a succession of short’extravaganzas occupied the evening. A brief but well conceived piece de circonstance, called The British '|- Fleet, was successfully produced, and has drawn a great deal of money, as it deserved to do, e idea is a happy one, the sentiments excel- lent, and we may add, thoroughly Engiish. It is full of fire; and we have no hesitation in saying that it can triumphantly compete with avy French work of similar construction. Al hough not a “ Whig piece,” the author has not dispensed with the old conventional powder, ana has judiciously prepared the way for keeping the audience in a tre- mendous roar. RB. Starronp played the principal character with much spirit. The same evening an actor named Carrer, nearly new to the stage, made his appearance in the disagreeable character of Cavil, in 4 Nation’s Tears. We have seen many instances of outrageous violence on the part of an audience, but we never remember so dead a set being made against any actor as was directed against this unfortunate Ma. Carter. He had scarcely uttered a sentence, when yells and groans were discharged at him in volleys, and every time he attempted to be heard, they were re-doubled. He gesticulated furiously, but in vain ; and it was only on a portion of the audience insisting, either that the performances should G heard, or that the curtain should fall, that he was allowed to procred. The words he had to utter were certainly a mixture of nonsense and bad taste, nor is his bard, unpleasant manner calculated to win upon a fastidious assembly—but we cannot approve | Of these extreme demonstrations, as an indifferent actor will always | | which are read will produce a startling | fancies—(after the fashion of his countryman, Mick, the valet to’ ‘ | protracted cheering.” | at all, say little for the find his level in due time. The long talked-of W. B., or Did you ever Send your Frail to Derby / has been in rehearsal all the week, but in one of the green-rooms, not upon the stage, the principal actor, it is said, being afraid of the “traps,” and having a nervous antipathy to face the lights, when he can avoid it. A great mystery has been made about the affair, but lobby-loungers say that the plot is pretty clear, and that some letters effect. There is a good parody—“ My name’s Mr. Morcax, I don’t live at Chester,’ and one of the scenes is the interior of a London club; an Irish Major is seated on a sofa, and is engaged in some mysterious correspondence, when somebody crosses the room, and is mistaken by the Irishman for the Editor of a London paper, who, he Charles O'Malley)—wants to fill his journal with details con- cerning the important Major. VOU, XXIIT. The Iriahman’s wrath blazes out, he! makes a ludicrous speech on a dinner-table, and bawls out to his |, fresh from the mint of national intelligence and patriotism.” audience that they are “rabble” and that “he despises them from the_| | bottom of his heart.” Great fun is said to come out of the whole affair, | but these attempts at secret rehearsals, which, of course, are no secret| Never was such “ tact of the parties concerned. The exclusion of | copper. the a timidity } — the best friend to real merit, bespeaks augurs ill for ¥. B. a had the old comedy of the West Indian supporte . Mun, Wiisow was very jovial in the character of Mr insists on reviewing the forces of the whole of the island, that they are the most pewerful and valiant fellows extant, Ma. Paxiseton was good in Sugarloaf, who is always wailing. and sees nothing in sunshine but a reminder that shade must follow Altogether the ‘ormance was a legitimate one, though from the { thinness and of the House, it is not probable that we shal’ hear much more of the West Indian, We hear that the Christmas Pantomime is to be called Harlequin Semitic Juggler and the Decidedly Disenchanted Island AQUATIC INTELLIGENCE. _ Lorp Marpstone’s prophecy seems really to have been realised, fo if the letters uf “Our Own Correspondents ” may be accepted as letter: of credit, there has been a continual deluge throughout the country, almost ever since the Kant oy Dersy came from it. “ Water, water, | ev here!” bas been generally the cry. The barometer for month: | has stand “much wet;”’ and while the rains bave been falling, the rivers have of course been rising, and the “ meeting of th: waters” has been commonly attended with most inconvenient results. In the lower districts especially, the tidings and many an act of have been seriously high, bankruptcy has been in consequence committed Not the oldest playgoer ever remembers such a run of “ overflowiny houses.” Nine in ten have seemed invaded by the hydropathic system ; for sheets have {been w after being aired, and almost every room| has hada bath in it. Nervous folks have even slept with life | preservers on ; for, instead of waking in one’s own bed, it has been no uncommon thing to find oneself in that of the adjacent river. In short, people have been living yuite amphibious existences, and many have ound reason to wish themselves in France, where as invariably /’caw. We canno the water, it is wel! ve no wish to speak lightly of this really heavy wet ; but it t be denied that things are going on most swimmingly. nee \ Me io My iilia 1 iil — THE ADVANTAGE OF AN INUNDATION, “A Splendid Coin.” Tue Herald in a fit of ecstacy, quotes the words of the Times—“ The CuanceLion or THe Excuequer was received with enthusiastic ani Upon this the Herald beautifully observes— “Take your change, Mz. Guavstows and Loap Jonn, out of that! It is a splendid Take your change out of that! Out of what? Out of Disraen? Well, certainly no man ever showed himself more capable of change a splendid coin” made up of so much unblushing

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fi %

PUNCH, OR 4 THE LONDON CHARIVARI

W. B. AND SHREWSBURY FRAIL. Even since Wotin’ fust begun, Wotes and Woters a for sale, Never a hustings job was Like Mason B.’s, and ae a Paait : Mason B. was a soldier hearty, Frat bad lather’d many a chin ; One was the whipper-in of his party, *T other the whip to tae whipper-in. *Twas at the Darby last election, ~ Darby, where the Ram was born, Rallyin’ all who lov’d Purtection, Darby, and the Tax on Corn: That a hagent was detected Up to his neck in Tory Buyin’, as mite be ex the wotes that could be sold.

Masor B. had wrote to Frat, “ For a man as was safe an’ good ; That is, if Coxe and Co. would "im.

a Al <a ih i)

Moncay, actin’ under Feil into a willan’s snare: In the town was FLEwxan, a lawyer, Wich wos ow’d seven hunderd pound He’d been a tip-to | ap sawyer Till he ask’d for his moneys round,

Bein’ kep’ out “of aot t he wos ow’d, He wos nat’ rally Said the Tories maht ht be blow’d, If they would a’t pay his score, But hard by there liv’d a neighbour— Tory Raprotd stausch and true— Wich to wim the other’s labour Told him wot was known to few: Told him of the new Arrival: “The hagent, with a heavy purse, Wasn't oneto stick at a trifle ;"— Brib’ry is the poor man’s curse, Moréay, arter he ’d bin to Coxn’s, (Coxe was a Co. with many friemda) Isn’t sure o’ certain proxies, ’Cepting F. bis int’ rest lends. Fiewxak, like a “ base Judean,” Gammoas now that he’ll give his aid, Goes to Moacan, gets to see ’im; MorGan being” a talkative blade,

- his wisitor all he’s doin’, he come from—who he wos, shew'd the mischief he’s a brewin’, Show’d his orders plain and poz. Show’d the traitor all his ramon oll a. be sure, a ikewise, to enbance bis ee Show’d the note sign’d W. B Tis the Masor’s sprawly writin’, *Tis the Masoa’s “ Carlton Club ;” “ Here’s a bisness beats cock-fightin’,” Says the mean deceitful cub. Off he runs to the Lib’ral party, Peaches al! wot be pas seen— (Tied to the tail of the nearest eart, he Tied and ’osswhipp’d should ha’ been)— Peaches where the hagent’s stayin’, Peaches now to access gain, - the a and pass betrayin’ BGAN might be ta’en :

“ Make the sign of silence gravely, Put your finger to your lip, Say aloud, and say it bravely, es s all right—L’ m a Raprorp Chip.” Mr. Moss of the Lib’ral faction, Heare the artful FLewxza’s tale,

BwWwdasrceen gs

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PUNC H, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. To nab the — in the ny at onst he shouldn't fail. So he goes with 3 policemen, Found the watchman at the door, Pass'd the word, and then these men MozGay found, and something more ; Found a list of Wenal Woters— Notes and gold three hunderd pound— All the parties and their quotas ; MorGan, calmly |ooking round, MorGan, when he was arrested, Called the town “ a emf pore place—” a fellows he deteste Shrewsbury ’s a town o’ grace ; of the Darby lieges ’t buy a Shropshire man.” Hasly — wengrance reaches Those in’ such a pian : For, of this untow’rd disaster, The House of Commons ’ill rend the wail ; See if Frart is MorGan’s master, And W. B. the master o’ Faatt. - —_— LORD FRANKFORT IN PRISON GRAY. Lory Franxront has been sentenced to a year's retirement in the House of Correction for a gross case of slander: a case pre-eminently | infamous. His Lordship—the papers tel! us—has undergone the usual discipline, having been made a K.C.B.—or Knight of the Cold Bath (fields)—and been dressed in prison attire. Is the poor mam in his right wits? We would wish to think otherwise. Nevertheless, he has | been judged and se as a self-accountable man; and therefore, | why to imprisonment was not added “labour?” We would not rigidly insist upon “hard” labour; because even ‘hat, comparatively li to a man accustomed to toil, would be crushing to a man unused to muscular exertion. Still, we would have set his lordship down to pick a little oakum—the softest oakum | if you will, but still um. And whereas the cups carved and a by poor TRENCK were much sought for, and purchased a large in token of his memory and his misfortunes—so, he fine and very fine yarn, picked by a Lord, might have been | bought up by the soft-hearted or the curious (or both), and—like Berlin | wool—worked into kettle-holders to be vended at Fancy Fairs in aid of | penitential evildoers. Kettle-holders would carry a significance : inas- | much as they mutely preach the danger of getting into hot water. The Isle of Conscience. Tue contemplated extension of the Income Tax to Ireland is a measure of — s ustice, and also a measure of conciliation. It is en Pad addy wonld like to be treated, like a gentleman of | honour and vanadiion it s to tax him according to his means— | as stated by himself. No doubt the Irish Income Tax Returns under the various schedules will be wonderfui for accuracy, of course. CHANGE OF RELATIONSHIP. Ly consequence of the feeling which has been aroused by Mus. Srowr’s of ~ wilh hemsesorth nee oe het + eee Nartzs Soar.—The eagerness of the Neapolitan Minister to | recognise Louis NaPonzow as Emperer. -. | very creditable to one at least of THE LADY’S COMPANION, Bras of a feather,” we are told, “ flock together ;” old lady-bird seeks for a “companion”’ with the capacities of a cook, but without the i of that useful menial, we may presume herself suited to the sort of association she has like nent other legal actions, 7 not the parties concerned, has been the widow of a late jodge t by a 1a lady who was engaged by the judieial relict as a “ companion home and abroad, at the “fifty pound gerast annum, A of which she was to pay expenses.” The duties of the companion were to read out loud, after the servants, and occasionally to make—if it — be done cheap—‘‘a pretty little foreign pudding.” The “lady” required these qualities in a “companion,” would seem to have mma with with culivary 7a and to have secured the congenial pone). ome hiring the companionship of one endowed with cook's tecomplishments and to whom the wages of a menial were Objecting, however, to an unceremonious dismissal, the “ hireling” au action for a quarter's pay, whieh is de‘ended on the plea that a a ED AE month’s wages or month’s warn’ ellow. the footman, and the housemeld. thie view of the case is coincided in by the judge, who decides that she can claim her month’s wages and no more, thus establishing by Jaw what has been clear enough in fact, that » “lady's companion "’ is to be cl with the ocoupants of the kitchen, bemg the case, we scarcely see the necessity for engaging any ome expressly to fill the situation, as the lady in want of a ‘ conrpamion ” has only to ask the cookwp into the drawing- room—when ber work isdome—for the benefit of her society. ‘The judge’s widow, who defended poate, a and the j who tried it, are evidently quite - rt oe a 7 we therefore ube it ct certain, that the judicial gone fo xing the position of a lady’s com- panion on the same scale as that of the commonest menial. MRS. GAMP CALLED IN, Tue Herald says, upon the opposition to the Budget, “ The attempts at agitation will be only in the nature of angry local pustules, developed 4 the ee a fon demagogues ; but, e constitution is sound, and its 1ioeee continues steady and strong.” ve, be it understood is, in other words, the o Gamp, \owered to the apprehension of the readers o We are, however, enab'ed to give, in its very words, the Herald, a of that femme sage and sage femme, called im to attend the et during its Budget, (Ornvtow or Mus. Sarrny Gar.) inion of Mrs, the Morning “ A good deal o” fidgets which in course is nothing which comes in | ne aud Lanbeth, which is low neighbour. | rash breakins out in Marrowbo hoods, always inflected with measles, which as the Chancellor of the | | Chequers as as had ’em can be of no hurt sumever to that blessed Caw- casion. A more sweeter Budget never blessed the which has his quiver full on ’em. ‘The interestin pasint is much better than any ever could have expected. With and a pulse the everlastin motion, a threatenin to go for ever. “ Shoe Lane. (Signed) Samer Game.” The Two Premiers. Lory Jounw Russex, in his late speech at Leeds, culogised | Mechanics’ Institutions. He said, “I hed the pleasure of ee | Dr. Brexpeck in the beginning of these institutions,” “And L”— Lory Denny might with truth observe—“ And | had the tds of | Me, Bricagox might cech, by conianing—" Watch with aroy KBECK wing—“ Which I, wi a curtsey | te chivalry, begged leave to THE ANTIPODES OF THE CHURCH, Tue Ecclesiastical Diggings continue to afford a rich harvest to the eyes of Ma. Bors, | a tongue jike apy rose, | | | fortunate pluralists at the cost of no greater labour than can be per- formed without exertion, with the shovel-hat. To Type-founders. WAsTED, an enormous supply of Jéalic types. As it is support the Dersy Ministry ey sievne as t essence of vigorous writing, py BaF nm consists in i¢alics—parties holding | any amount a italics (said, by the , to have been invented by one Pernancn) will be very, cere | ; treated with. Address at the | office of the Morning Herald intended to | he vital

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} 260 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CTIARIVARI | FAREWELL TO JULLIEN. Composer of Peter the Great, — over —— ee of her freight, e steamer 3! carry t proud freigh | Let me bid thee a hearty farewell. With ophicleides, cymbals, and gongs At first thou didst wisely begin, | And bang the dull ears of the popular throngs, As though ’ twere to beat music in. With national measures of France, With polka, with waltz, and with jig, } The “gents” thou excitedst to caper and dance, As Onpueus did ox, ass, and pig. Then, leading them on, by degrees, To a feeling of Genius a Art, =f AWE 74 Thou mad’st them to fer! that BewTHovEN could please, i Bris “ Ha’penny CaNDLE, PLPASE, AND BE QUICK, POR]MoTHER wants BER Tra.” “On ves! or course, Miss; CoULD WE SEND IT ANYWHERE FOR YER!” To our ARION ashore. THE FAT OF THE LAND AT BAKER STREET. Baxer Street Bazaar has, during the last week, presented a most formidable rival to Mapame Tussavup’s wax, in the shape, or rather the shapelessness of agricultural fat and tallow. We were particularly interested by the asthmatic aspect of a Suffolk short-horn, in a state bordering on suffocation. The poor brute returned our sympathising glance with a look of almost breathless interest. The pitiable gaze tite obese creature assumed might have melted a heart of s'one, even though the heart was encased in a stone or two of suet. We felt the tear drip from our eye at the contemplation of so much future dripping. We could not help thinking of the fate that awaited the numerous prize sheep around us, but we could not say with the philosopher “ Out, brief candle,” for there were several pounds of prospective candles in every doomed mutton. r There was in one _ of the Bazaar a melancholy group of pigs, over whom we actually let fall compassion’s pearly tear, for on this oecasion we considered the casting of pearls before swine allowable. From an aged sow there came upon our ear a plaintive grunt, with all the mournfulness of a moaning sou-wester. e returned home with an imagination full of fat, a mind bewildered by wool, and a vague itea that the times are not likely to be “out of joint” during the approaching Christmas. The Weather and the Militia. Tue late wet weather has a ploweaaly embarrassed the agriculturists and the militia; the state of the ground, in the cases of both, having | been most unfavourable for drilling. The evolutions of the men have ‘or the most part, presented the appearance of an aquatic tournament; and instead of the tep on terra firma, the gallant feliows have, in many instances, obliged to resort to the species of march which is practised by that bird in walking the waters. CUPS OF COMPORT. Ly proposing to reduce the Malt Duty, the CaawceLLon oF THE ExcHEQues is said to have offered a boon to the Protectionists; but is abatement of the tea duty will be perhaps considered the greater lessing by the generality of old women. A Sprarrvat Rapren—We should say that the “Mantle of ‘RIMALDI” was quite a spiritual wrapper. And that all was not “slow” in Mozart. I went t’other night to thy shop, *T was crammed by collective Jonw Butt ,; No place could I get there, except at the top, The House was so awfully full. | As gently that concourse did hark To harmonies noble and grand, As though each had been born and bred in a park, To inherit broad acres of land. My Ju.urey, to Yankeedom go, With thy fiddles, and trumpets, and flutes ; May thy 4c/on refining assist Mas. Stowz To humanise slave-holding brutes. _ Thy vessel let tritons surround, Conch-blowing—and should’st thou fall o’er, A dolphin in waiting of course will be found, VEST FOR THE VERSATILE. Tue pilgrim of the Strand will have observed the word “ Versatio,” glitteri with gold letters in a tailor’s window. “ Versatio” is described by advertisement as a “ Reversible Coat ;” and we are further informed that “ The importance of this invention consists in the novelty of the material and its application—viz., the double purpose of forming two in one without trouble; one side presenting a gentlemanly morning coat, the other a riding, shooting, or hunting coat, in any texture or colour desired.” | Is not this just the sort of coat for Ministers? We hope our friend in the Strand will instantly receive an order from Downing Street for reversible coats. One side of the Ministerial garment might present an agricultural gentlemanly coat, and the other a Free Trade or Manches- ter Wrapper. The word “ Versatio” is objectionable, as it signifies merely a turning, not the coat or thing turned. A better name may be suggested. There is a dance called the CHaNceLLon OF THE Excarquer’s Polka. Why no style this vestment the CoanceLLon or THe Excueqver’s Polka Jacket? The Right Honourable gentle- man might dance Sir Roger de Coverley in it, with one side out, and then jump Jim Crow and bow to the decision of the country with the other. Better Luck this Time. Tue French have re-established the Empire, termed by our contem- poraries the Imperial Dynasty, but which we call the Empirical form of Government. We hope the second experiment will succeed better than the first did. VERY BITTER BEER. A very greatly increased consumption of bitter ale will be the conse- quence of the reduction of the Malt Tax ; for all the beer we drink will be embittered by the reflection that we are saddled, in consequence, with an additional House-duty. Question on the Budget. Ir is even said that the diminution of the Malt Tax will not cheapen | beer at all. Well; so. Possibly the brewers could tell you | that malt has less to do with beer than you suppose. ‘Aw Eyzmy To Procress.—Temple Bar.

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aT. 4 | li ) | | | % my Mi \| } WW iit Dison) |) | 7, 2/7) Yin, \ \) AN Ny S \ y 3 NE a ae om ‘HIT HIM AGAIN! HE HAS NO FRIENDS!” Old Saying. Decempesr 18, 1859.

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wr : no gt noon OMe tan, epectesahwiniln tem ecriontiits reo esta geeserermagnntione nen 9 pci

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

EXCHANGE—A ROBBERY.

A VERY SOLEMN QUESTION. (—\, IGHT exeellent Punch, “ Waar have I done?” . As one of a bunch This is a tremendous query: a question besetting every man, wo Of _— victims who’ve reason | and child, at almost as tapes turn of life. “ What have I done ?” What a qarstion for a@ man to put to himself, wakeful and restless, in O’er thet a ie imposition, the Otte- os of midnight sheets ! man Lo week, the Eant oy Dersy—his system tly stimulated by Oh, let me al the Lemp Mayor’s roast and boiled—iast week, the Kant or DgRpy To your wisdomand zeal, | asked thie question of all'the world; yes of all the world: for gentle- To give the disgrace of this horrible | men of the press were there who would cause the query of the noble case : and chivalrous Kani to reverberate round about the world; and who en of the public & Promi- \qmesatisfmotorily.to make answer to it? nent place. ‘The:noble for the second time, *towsched upon the moral dignity The Pamcs Canumeaml = Duxe’s fameral. "Dae i innocent, unsophisticated— Smok’d pipes of Leataki, ike "to say, i ikuew, it seems, so little of the And say his highly people of Eagiand—(of thatiow miliions ehngey toms, and drink beer when can i smoke coarse erack one an- As surety to warrant te raghts of Tiher'odhiibeat nuuteo-atalionad bait tallvemd aoow bad rs, and shy . claim. down. andedrown wi and so forth, even as at s a = ee the eee Srampeys)—the , it ome, iS ~ 80 Read wary litthe when eft his house Swears by his whiskers—and who can gainsay it f— on the 38h of tH ge yt to him as though rie eas poe eee foreign discovery. As ckeT pe THOMAS Ee he. must have become a little re-assured Who took the tin from us, about ‘Oross and - the Strand, he must have — Messas. Devavx and the rest om the Go., jempectel that the people—the hoggish .multitude—would ete a weovived the car with “bhurrats,” and ontealls. That only for But Pasha the Veley, i OY SEN, gees Sonseiven apes te mourning Whose mouth is so mealy, coaches, ing them-of their-velvet draperies and escutcieons. No —— unbusiness-like Government folk, " Mvuweo Paax, no Carrary Coox-eould-ever have been more surprised ’ay believes that the Loan was a joke, and deli atthe pacific demeanour of savages whom the travellers And tells Mx. Carzi expected to find cannibals: and lo! they were not men-eaters, but rn or quite Papal, yam-eaters! Even so was it with the masses—the walls of men and The Sultan’s all right, and the claimant ’s all wrong, pag pee skirted the streets; and stood like patience in a gutter A Minister's word ian’t worth on old Song.” the mememble 10th. | The Haas ov Densr’s head streak in its things ’ ty a in its s . Hear, however. And working our ruin ; what—full of Se ee tate a telly ood of No wonder that others like Mz. GuEpaLia, Cry, “ of ALLAH This repudiation — — t it gi lief. ior the present it gives you relief, ~ to ultimate grief, a Turk ii ill certainly bri Which, not being expected, was good for the nonce, But don’t suppose it will pay mere than once. slough sour Beak uny basaeal By the way you’ve behaved, Your coffers ty a your credit no longer remain {” Your fame LL. Dom Baowy. Political Horsemanship. other day commended Ma. Dispaz.i for the clever had been “riding the country party” We “ riding ” is significantly chosen, seeing how obviously Honourable Jockey has been studying throughout to keep

THE CUBAN QUESTION AND ANSWER. agitation prevails in Cuba; where everybody asking what next? To this, the cool reply pong nog omaTuay is, An-nexed, of course. is saxionaly | a

A Grin for Cheshire Cats. A.tupue to Cheshire, in reference to the Militia, the Liverpoo/ Mercury says— “ There is little doubt now, that recourse must be had to the ballot in this county, | the deficit on the whole amounting toabout 500.” THe young blood of Cheshire seems rather of a 7 — eer it | | requires so much pressing to render it anything like the cheese. |

Bitters. Waar makes bitter beer more bitter ’—asks Punch. | makes answer and says—“ Bitter small bot | the truth of this, Puach’s cry is—“ Not men, but measures,” —<— or Dggsy discourse concerning the people on “It is with feelings of self-humiliation that I ask myself, * What have I done that I should hold so among such a people?’” at have {dane ft my ne aka Dan = “ What have J done?” inquires DisnaBxi “ What have I done?” the while covered with blushes, stammers Matmesury. Let the Kant or Denny take good heart—he hms done a good deal. Men “do not (did not) hold so place among such a people” —even when men were exalted : mob in the pillory—without trath—but, to some states- itis that so exalted, they of salary and office -hearted history will ZRBY done to stand so voted black, that, It is chivalrous icht with Ais =o weapons. “ But what have I done?” asks Mu. Disrazui. Why, wonders. You have jumped from the attorney’s stool—(anda noble jump too, if taken with a strong heart and a high object)—right upon tie shoulders of the aristocracy, You are to an what Jocxo who seen — is to the dromedary Jocxo is perched upon. Your tricks are umberiess, You can crack epigrams like nuts, and fling the sheils in | the eyes of the folks surrounding. You cam jabber about guns and much at home wilh them as any

‘must first empty a a into your ——. like a dey | pum _—_ somethi poured in ere you n to spout. aw have I done?” asks the Cuancetton or THe KxcHeQuEn. And how all true men of pen-and-ink would hands, and cry “ Bravely, my beautiful—my Ben ! “ What have | done?” cries Masmezuay. Well, have made s fechente-bow to tho Buranenel Aguume. If Joum Buit had ou could not have bowed longer and lower. Yor have eraiowed Taso iyrnny a thou Pusan (rama ba have rejoiced to clap their

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SCENT LPT a te ale ViRY ACCOMMODATING, CABBY (politely’. “BEG PARDON, SIR; PLEASE DON’T SMOKE IN THE KEB, SIR; LADIES DO COMPLAIN O THE ‘BACCA UNCOMMON. BETTER / ET ME OUTSIDE, SIR!” 264 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL OUR STARS AND GARTERS! It is now become so common for Dukes and so forth to lecture at Mechanics’ Insti- tations (we very much applaud the custom), that it is expected, by way of an equitable arrangement, a few lecturers i will be called to the Upper House. If a uke takes a lecturer’s chair, why may not | the lecturer rest himself for awhile in the Duke’s seat ? Many new noble kcturers are about to hold forth—and upon novel and excellent themes ; no other than the — political | and soc’al, of their own armorial ” hearings. The Premier (assisted by W. B.) will |shortly deliver a lecture at Derby. (The ,lecture will be gratis; or no doubt Frat would be money-taker.) The noble Earl— _with bis arms painted in a very bright | transparency—is expected to be unusually eloquent. The pelican about to bleed herself will illustrate what the noble Earl may yet do for the farmers; whilst his motto, Saas change (without change!) will diclare what he has done for them. The Fart - .—o-* sae - a lecture prepar is crest, a ge with the motto, Je le mainteindrois (1 will maintain it) may be most felicitously ap |The hedgehog showing how, with ost |a touch, the .oble Earl may be completely | doubled up. | Other lectures will be duly announced. PROBLEM FOR MODERN MIRACLE-MONGERS, SMOKE IT IOR YER Given, Cizopatra’s Needle, to hem an Oratorian’s long-c!othes. | Duke will, it is expected, soon restore the uid soldier. After his recent | A CABMAN’S GRATITUDE FOR THE BUDGLT. Come, let us drink a health to Ber, For he’s a jolly chap, At least to we and watermen, For cheapnun of our tap; That ’s if so be I ain’t at fault— For some is not quite clear— By low’rin of the tax on malt As he ’ll bring down our beer. Agin the tax on ouses, [ By no means wil! complain, Not if 80 be as when [’n: dry, I gits a double drain ; Cause vy ?—the Bar my ome [ count, Vere off the stand I’m fouad, Whereon my taxes does amount To nothink in the pound. Some folks looks different on the cace, According to their lot, And thinks about their dwellin’-plece Afore their pewter pot ; But since | ain’t a seedy clerk And forced to be gentrel, I views the Budget as a lark, As cabbies all must feel. A SWEET LITTLE CREATURE, Txeasune of extraordinary value was lost, aud may have bee picked up—by anybody who did ~~ not mind touching it—near the Sw Regent’s Park, last week. It =e t\ was advertised in the Times— / f with a little elegant circum- Ah Rh ae lecution—in the following a, ye . : _ terms :— le Mh, * ) |\ “Strayed from two ladies in the Albert We A / \ Road, without the Regent's Park, on Saturday evening Jast, a Smact FemaLe Buack and Tan Kine CHARLEs SPANIBL, long ears and feathered feet, very old and fat, and bas some hair off her back from mange. Answers to the name of ‘ Jusey.” Whoever will bring her to éc., may receive Two Guinzas Rewanp.” But for the slight indisposition ‘ under which this interesting animal was labouring, we might have given a hint towards procuring its restoration, not to say recovery. The likeliest quarter to search for it wou'd have been the Prize Cattle Show, whither it doubtless would have been taken, if it had been in a state of wholesome obesity. It might, perhaps, have been exhibited among the hypertrophied oxen— whom doubtless it would have made to draw in their horns; but a more congenial society for it would have been afforded by the pigs. We fancy we see it panting on its litter, with a memoir posted over its head. ‘The privcipal particulars of this document, we imagine, wou!d be cream, sugar, pound-cake, mock-turtle, buns, calfs’-foot jelly, rout- Fashionable Intelligence. cake, and trifle: Feeder, Jous—whose place we do not envy. Guwerat Haywav has retired awhile to Florence. The softness | of its atmosphere, tog:ther with the philosophic benevolence of its | “let down” in Belgium, it was thought he would have required a more bracing air. It is said, if Ma. Diskari’s measure of malt be curried, that Haywav will visit England: simply because he is assured tha! = change in the Malt Tax will so improve the condition of the rewers. Bucolics at the Antipodes. Tae Sydney Morning Herald says— “ We fear for our flocks and herds.” No wonder. In Australia, just now, there is no sort of cattle | attended to but the Golden Calf. A Goop Setrm«c Dowy.—“I thank the Honourable Member for | Tue Heteut or ApsuRDITY.—A vegetarian paying a visit to the| that cheer,” as the M.P. for Sunderland said when he was offered a Smithfiela Cattle-show. ' fautenil by a brother M.P. in the lobby. | | | | !

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARTVARL. 265

BELLS UPON MY MIND. Aim—“ Belis upon the Wind.” Tuar tinkli ioe, that tinkli , Which rings abowe any head, ” In accents j Om my ears ith tone I’ve. to dread. madd’ning sounds, those madd’ning sounds ? " 3 _ >. \. : s Ww geet st N Ni <TiL N iii! ON SIN

Those hateful tones, those hateful tones, From morn till night I hear ; At morn they summon boots and shoes, At noon and night ’tis beer. = harass’d boots, = harass’d boots, © peace can hope While he is troubled on night With bells upon the mind.

| THE FLOODS AND THE FARMERS. We see by the papers that the farmers have, in many places, suffered most severely from the recent inundations. “ Great loss of ~~ is the general report, and in the low lands, especially, there have been for it. Tnere has, moreover, been a complete bowleverse- ment of the usual routine of farming: and the “ four course shift” seems, many districts, to have been completely shifted. But little seed has been sown, for there has been but little land left dry enough to sow ced considerably before its time. Several floeks, we hear, have _ nn +h - mgmt burried, we can sympathise with our almost stereotypical! y ——— Their frequent cries of “Wolf!” have our heart against them. But the present is a ease of z ! f i time, have damped their prospects. eep their heads above water. E 3 ¢ 1 z z 4 eS Pellows im Parliament. wEw lodge of Odd Fellows has lately been established under the of — ie oe _ members of this — i ve been holding their meetings during the t week wit en Their mystical emblem is the Rose ; ad nhs flower, in —- sense, the p Pue Bory May’s Bupert.—The reduction of the Malt duty to cheapen ale and beer is but a half-and-half measure. of this sect of Rosycrucians are “real distress,” and as such we offer our sincere condolence. ; EDUCATION TRADE REPORT. Tue Governess market continues flat. There is a limited demand full-grown Church-of-Englands, with character and accompli inquiry is made for music and French; but the tone of | = é 5 | in sechoo! of the first respectability, memberof the Church of England, not under 30 lauguage in France, and speaks it with a it to superintend piano practice, to lead a routine of a scheskroom. No salary given, but eminent professors, together with laundress, and young lady can converse in German, « further . The strictest inquiry will be made as to character. Beta, Messrs. Deighton and Laughton's, booksellers, Considering the general business in ladies’ maids, the steadiness in | inion that the idicalenaly ve prion ofersd for Gover. g ies on & market ; i : i i Ui | | ; I ut whether deserve the severest think the above amnouncement a h on sion to the laundress, whose functions would of tirely unknown in a eoncern so dirty as the Liverpool SIGHS OF THE FAT, (OVERHEARD AT BAKER STREET.) THE PEN. Ate—*I remember, I remember.” I’m a glutton, I’m a glutton Oh! take i

THE STALL. Am—@h,:dcar, whatoan the Matter be?” Ou, dear! what beast can fatter be ? Dear, dear! what beast can fatter be ? Breathing’s an awkward affair. But they Prize me, and buy me « bunch of biue ribbons, They Prize me, and me a bunch of blue ribbons, To show I’ve been fed with such care! 3 4 + E 5 z E | Soe | Weuldn’t that. for Ma, Senate pretty dish have been? — — = ee mn — | A GENTEEL BREACH OF THE PEACE. "* Brun Corres, tother nite at the Chekers, a readin out the for Hin come to.a count of a row tween a members of the ouseo commons [dded ‘ Fracaw in “Ser . And 1 Pleze, ser, can you Ixplane wy ‘tis a skrimmidge atween ewels is called a Fracaw ? Spovsin Bi to an | wos to pitch into im aud Paneh is caaetbinpedtibanaaptie mpuer Spesin ying @ Mill amung sou pearior |goedais to blige your numerus a cove must be wath per oo to ave it call’d a Fracaw? I remane Come And, &c. “ fantail Court, desember 1352. E “pick Rusuzy.”

| Everrzopy’s Question.—If Lonp Patmenston is master of the | situation, how is it that the noble Lord is out of Place ?

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iin mia Nee eee a ry ey ee 266 PUNCH. OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL Wh ity HWA it* Hi 4 Allie \ NY AY bow } MORE INCOME TAX! MORE HOUSE TAX!!! WHAT WILL BECOME OF US!!! THE RIVAL PATRIOTS. A FEW evenings ago there seemed a probability that a most in- teresting match was about to come off between Messxs. Hume and Georce Hupson, in the House of Commons. The contest was one of liberality, and though the veteran Hume is liberal enough in a| [n-come. A Man’s In-come is all the M he gets in one Year, litical sense, we fear he might have been beaten by the way | Many a Man bas no-thing else in the World than the Mo-ne illionaire in the competition they were nearly entering on. Tve|imone Year. He pays la-come Tax on all that Mo-ney. pays affair arose out of the cost of the Duxz’s funeral, into which Ma. | Se-ven Pence out of ev-e-ry Pound of it. Mo-ney is Pro-per-ty. if Hume was inquiring rather closely, when he was snubbed by the Ex-|* Mau has No-thing else than the Mo-ney he gets in one Year, that Railway King, who was asked by the economist if he was ready to | Mo-ney is all his Pro-per-ty. So, if he pays In-come Tax w it, he draw a check for the amount in question. This was certainly a home | pays & Tax on all the Pro-per-ty be has got., But ma-ny question; but the answer was equally in point—for Mr. Hvbson | great deal more P meper:t than the Mo-ney bag get in one Year. expressed his readiness to put down any sum that Ma. Hows was | Some have Twen-ty i as that. | willing to contribute. “The matter here dropped,”—to use the Par-| pay 8 Tax on the Mo-ney they ge’ in ear. They Son more drop any money. We shou'd be glad to see a generous rivalry spring | PY & Far-thing out of all their o-ther Pounds. So, the In-come Tex up amohg members of the House, as to who shall sacrifice most to ease | '8 & Tax on all one Man’s Pro-per-ty and on on-ly Part of a-no-ther’s. the public of a burden. It would save a great deal of difficulty to | MB. GLap-stomwe says this is just. If Ma. Gu»p-stowe had no-thing pod ah — he —— — 30 body . ~ to take off noxi b i w checks | 4nd yet he might have to pay Se-ven Pence of ev-e- ‘ound he an obnoxious tax, the members would begin to draw check peered gy ee making up an expected deficiency. It is to be regretted that Musses. | Sor-ry. I co not think he would call the In-come Tax just, any | Hupsow and Hume did not proceed in their generous rivalry, and go | !onger; do you! liamentary phrase—for neither of the hono the CHANCELLOR oF THE FxcuEQueR, if in the event of his desiring | against each other, and run a race of liberality for the purpose of on drawing checks one against the other, until the affair had ended in a check mate or a drawn battle. NUGGET-HUNTERS AT HOME. other night at the Young Men’s Christian Association, Exeter Ha'l, very briefly dwelling on the diggings, ed to a series of digs. | |. He represented the lawyer, the merchant, the shopkeeper, the stock- | jobber, the gambler, the betting-house keeper and frequenter, all as | contrib: COMING DOWN ON THE ROOF. | Few persons cultivate houseleek; but the CuaxceLion oF THE EXCHEQUER appears to be one of them, by his prvject for putting a | cut out the old masters instead of | plant on our dwellings. tt of} \ WP i fw = WN aang : Tuscamy—bas received an addition to his domestic happiness, after THe Morning Post says that an interesting lecture was delivered the | erie eg -_ oo een ee he yg by the HonovraBiz ayp Reverewp Montacue Vitiiers, From | — he has christened the young hopeful of Persecution and our contemporary’s report, it appears that the excellent lecturer, after | ~°P® ; t | polyony mous infant was baptiz d, his godfather, in naming him, had to he poe rete 4.0 Ae Sean petiocskinsy, a Are ieebion | stop three several times to fetch breath: and at the completion of his of these we hope he did not forget to mention the wealthy pluralists, | duous task, proved to be so 08 that he oo the whose profession certainly is liberal enough, and whose pay is much | oumpe, Doee-cne-weten., Pe - ror gD pond ine t soviet but did more than sufficiently liberal, although their liberality may be confined | 07/4! Catalogue was evidently winded, ani pone tn a v to their pay and their profession. | not faint, which was considered by the bystan a miracle. fine thing. ‘ity i} yaaa ite it - Ht iH Z Zf ih " pt! Ai hy a eNO > 4 | > ‘ \ f > oa ; i . wn" i 2 a7 mul if! ! Wil * sa Pa 3 | \ ~_— 4, | Vv , : th ati RY =e, , ww a, y | ———FSSSSSS>—~ | THAT'S THE TIME O Day!” THE INCOME TAX BLUCIDATED. “HA! CAPITAL BUDGET! DOWN WITH THE MALT DUTY? | ‘ | | IN AN EASY LESSON, Tas In-come Tax is a fun-ny Thing. It is a Tax up-on a Man’s he gets y have a mes as much Poorer oy Yet they only one as he is now. would be HARD WORK AT THE FONT. Tae Grand Inquisitor—we beg his the Granp Duke or “Grovayst Nepomucewo Marta Aywunztata Gruseppx GrovawpatTista Frn- waspo Batpassere Luiot Gonzaca PisTro ALessaypro Zayost AyTontxo!” By a private communication from Fiorence, we learn that when this he was obliged to have FAIR EMULATION, Iv the artistic authorities at the National Gallery could. to of scraping them out—it w a Printed by William Bradbury, of No. 13. Upper Woburn Place, in the Parish of St. Pancras, and Frederick M: ‘lett Bvana, of No. 7, Church Bow, Stoke Newington, both in the County of Middlesex, Printers, at their Mice in Lomoaru Street, in the Precinet of Whitefriars, in tae City of |.ondon, and Published by them a: No. S, Pleet Street, in the Parieh of St. Bride's in the City of London.—Sarunpar, December i8t~, 1852,

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. ALARMING INUNDATION. (From Our Own Reporter.) * we mean, of course, the Universe — that the safety of the Punch premises been + — most seriously endan- gered, the truth of our assertion will at once, we think, be manifest. Merel bremising that Our Reporter is a aie he = man, we proceed at anes to put his notes verbatim into circulation. The first we received was headed th “ Under the ied lathes hal pas “past Fant Ban a.m. a am aroused at this unpleasant hour byfthe sudden entrance informs me in a hurried manner that ‘there ’s suthun up!’ Without walling to hear what, I pencil this to show you that he found me ready at my (bed) post.” “ Two minutes later —I have y breakfast and the boy, who in g, asks me somewhat y, if I’m a ‘svimmer.’ Gathering from his ints that eit an Tnundation am sen si grretuness —— « on m t aqua-scutum, y raiey athonted oti ined! (FR hel eesti ce epee aa oo a widow and six orphans to your care.) elapsed. The next despatch we cal—apparently from excitement. * . An interval ‘of more than att ates hare hieroglyphi ' received was almost es. =i to say that I’ve been hoaxed by that inf— well, inf-erior L a, te Tiuistion’? Watxzs' |! 4 "s fie annie and o half tate Ta, isn’t. The imp spoke figuratively. rere! of hind rah tea of pone pa deg hey ect sea of heads, and fresh streams of people are continually pouring in. “ Quarter to.—I am carried by a current into Fleet Street, and take ona | friendly lamp-post. The sea I spoke of surges fiercely round me. I tremble, but | T'll not desert my Post. “ On the strike.—My position is becoming painful, (The lamp-post is a rather _ hard one.) pea sine small newspaper boy has suddenly disappeared in a wave of the crow: The Struck.—He rises on the kerbstone ‘at my feet, and informs me, confi- dentially, that ‘ all’s serene.’ ~ Reo ea a eee ES eae b apie. « 7 ” . a7 sure, wagering Yo Ou another source. ‘mentite esous Berners Street Street oo, lee maliciounly contared report pene Oo me we our Almanack would be , knowing the of this great national event, the scoundrel Pom Ps eee Is he Inundation ” we | ees ‘obvious and inevitable result. | A Line of Narrow Gauge. Ratuway Boards are eae of Ways and Means that care more about their Means than thir W It may be added that they sue 80 intent on the main chanse, 20 to overlook the minor chances, or risk of aecidents. Opposition. Aw Indignant Tailor intends opening a with's tremendous notes over his door to the f 6 “Do NoT BE DECEIVED! to the “ hin Rappers,” wing effect THIS IS THE BEST SHOP FOR RAP-RascAls!!” “You hat has t me to,” the said to the old im see what drinking brough as Quart en VoL. XXIII, RM A SONG OF THE NIGHT. BY A SUFFERER, Aim.—* Obvious,” Wuat un-fairylike music slum beginnet Tis the voice of the trombone, _ sep sna aees Ge eae ann, As it mingles its tone With the shrill cornet’s strain. t-cap can save : So I groan for the summons To get up and shave. Theatrical Intelligence. Onn of the picoss lately playing at the Lizoe ceum has been pressed our vi rd Chamber- ee ye ich wi lant Lord Chamber It was feared, in wey = it might Sat the feelings of our friends across the Channel, by the rather sarcastic — ference to their i> a of the Empire, which is borne so pointedly i in its titlhe—" Anything for a Change.” | APPROPRIATE CHRISTMAS BOX- As the Densy Ministry has been beaten, and, as after the Densy Ministry we were promised the Deluge. it would not be a bad Christmas Box to present Ma. Disaari and every one of the Ministers with a good stout umbrella. Sincere Attachment. “ Hast thou ever yet loved, Hewnretta?” I sighed. “T should rather imagine z 1 had,” she replied ; “ Oh, did not m eae feelings ier Wins ae hipaiie etinopuing oda Honest for Once. Tue Civil List of the French Emperor has been fixed at 5 00,000 frenon a aa = = toa — = respect, at t, Louis NaPoLeow rue his _principles—he has proved himself, by the above literally “ 4 Man of the Million.” Sitting in Jeopardy. t your seat, Bux, between two opinions Lea tught to sway these vast dominions ? you endeavour conviction to smother, That Free Trade was one stool and Protection another. Meamme or tae Inttuis “W. B.”—

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ay

| a a> i) =

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL —

CURIOUS SROPREOE earn errr nom the of content we extract the following prophecy :— “ There have always been two Bowa- PABTES;: ome great, other little.” When we consider that this = said long before the present peror appeared on the stage a French politics, the o- phecy with d tothe “ POLEON the Little” is curious h to Fal & passing , now that the fulfilment has~ so literally taken place. What would Zadkiel not give for such a lucky pro- ~atezae pheey !

MR. PUNCH’S YULE LOG; | OR, GLIMPSES OF THE PAST AND PRESENT *T was the Midwinter Ni And the stars, in their flight O’er the office of Punch, in the court of St. Bride, = That enchanter ca. spy 4 In his garret on hi 4 With Tony, the matteo p at his side. O’er the chimney, aerial By his skill, were displayed A group of his very best ~ownd of speech, pa = vases appeared mantelpiece reared With the “low rs of his rhetoric blooming in each. All around were See And the charms, he sells ’Gainst Blue devils, bad spirits, deceit and delusion ; And of others, whose use is ’Gainst public fy ; On the shelves, c and floor lay a mighty profusion : Here the models in wax Of impostors and quacks At the fire of bis wit were fast melting away ; There, the cause to ong Of true freedom in F He had noe with sharp jokes a es Narox now of clay ; The Yule Log, that b On the fire cored, On an oak of Dodona had formerly grown, From out of whose hollow Trunk, Zeus or APOLLO, To their — Sibylline leaves had oft blown; hen ail t oaks H Sunnane to the strokes Of sees > whose axing precluded reply, The Log I have named, From the fire reclaimed | By a cabinet-maker, came forth by and bye, Fresh with gilding and paint, In the form of a saint, And — every day some miraculous cure, Till the a Friars— Of relies great bu Sent their agent an image so ow to procure. : boots not to tell How, when evil befell seener Sata weet Soa, became, first a incl Shen 0 Bie Bag cuteiin n Ceteoumnbets chop, Or ae For its masters oft — customers stop ; Till, much bat yp Ony Tarnished, chipped, and worn out, As no one could tell to what to turn it, Mr. Punch had just Bough it For an old song, and bro ti To his home in the hope as a Yule rte burn it. 3 ‘And e’en now as he gazed On the as it He saw that the flames from its and toes, ’ ! | |

As over the cei = “= they ee i And ing, and glancing in light in shade, In the forms of Dwarfs, Pixies, Pack, Bron, Keg hoa had arrayed, ves arra) And the Lubbar “ When all faith in us And our mission as Brownies and was over, For a time ’twas our fate, as oe Senet ad the Hist, On it Cee to live on in clover; a, <p t oe ee aie thenbtepeteiiie men,” every ta, We assem tee ivings than three seore and ten But the p ating phn As spirits, is i bent on our rain Once seore."— Howled a ! - ae wre’ When my quare shape, that bothered the Irish before, Lost its power to alarm, sani — the pate to — eep-o!-day Bo a Ribbonman, ‘ Rocki . Le, With quick i liek fant, I contrived the ces country to vex and annoy ; But, with great consternation, Bids fai oS ere fair soon row me em Pe Said a Troll, “ When our pains, In the ferging of chains Ber the was, and the knighte whe deiepies fet cam, navailing Chanain g calling -* pame, We were able 10 to on such bills, statutes, and laws, As to check for a season Truth, justice, and reason ; But thio besinsen don't poumsse math lnuger tp paw, £ Have great reason to From the tidings I hear Ot the New County ‘Cot a late Ordare i Chanson.” - we found, Little focou hale pone j= pony ts aps pan be n as servants no more caught, In the forms of slave-dealers, Slave owners, ane Great skill to our new occupation we brought; And me for a time, Every ies of crime To indulge in, 0, but now of all friends quite bereaved, y os “ Uncle Tom’s Cabin,’ A terrible stab in Our tenderest point we have lately received.” — Shrieked a Kelpie, “ My scream From the fountain or stream nes eee ee And I’ve laboured . Round the oot lth, velonnes te —— sort nuisance, stink, ut alas! this this Commission te an the condition Of Towns (here the poor fellow looked quite dejected), _ rr ea with aie Of the arene the + STS taths thay “vo mmaind: Hi 7 made, ad he Whose ruins Its excellence vaunted : While Banshees foreboded _ dissolution, Toby, a Jumping up with Toby one pea he ob ee: Fees Y e Log, thus +4 “ By your friends, Mr. PuncA, all this ill has been done ; * The Reverend Brothers Prerry™ays, pluralists par excellence.

aa24 oes ee ee 6 ee SO eo et ee oo

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL 269 | humour and fun | ”— Cried Punch; “ Learn to bridle Your wrath, and be civil; for though it is true Little ruth to each foe _ Of true progress I show ; *Tis their minds, not their bodies, I strive to subdue ; And the weapons I use Are P ~ —s "tt off 80 cons >a comes to pass That my foes haven’t half Or to rome ae = r to ery. ive them last coup de grace.” ere oy one last splutter Just man to utter, But Punch was le to catch what he said; So he tenderly raised Up the fire till it blazed All around him; remained till the last spark had fled ; With one pull at the bow! Fairly drained off the whole, Patted Tony, and went off to Jupy and bed. THEATRE ROYAL, WESTMINSTER. BY OUR SLASHING CRITIC. Tue presence of interest and the absence of principle have alike | characterised the performances at this theatre during the past week. | | pelled the manage It is, we believe, matter of notoriety that public indignation has com- s. Ditty ayp Dwzy, to surrender the direction of the establishment. We have > Sees in registering occurrences which have been justly descri by one of the leading | actors as “ discreditable,” but we will briefly advert to the extraordi- scene of Thursday. nar We mentioned that upon the new and “ great” work, The Budget, | its subsequent reproduction. ‘ | | | the managers of the theatre had staked its fortunes. We recorded the production of this vaunted affair, its cold reception, its withdrawal, and _ eS , he ning driven to des ~ resolved to run piece, accordingly, it was “ put up” for three nights successively. The final verdict of the town was thus boldly | claimed, and the pit being nightly crowded to witness the last efforts of this provincial company, “ town” may be said, and, indeed, was said, | to have been “ pitted against country.” We felt it our duty to attend each night, but not caring to owe anything to the courtesy of the house | we placed ourselves in the gallery, a locality with which no fault could | be found, t that . ‘ Rywete i re od are paaieee, te i: neigh- ourhood, interfere wi! effect of the programme by their chattering and laughing, and unbesitating remarks upon the personnel of the actors. Monday’s performance went off flatly, owing to the Jal masqué at i the affair had been, introduced sinoe the frst night Benny, for | example, had to say, “ O, promise to pay a shilling, i 80 get ae want ; but say afterwards that you meant tenpence, or twopence, or what — you like—let A a De Re This honourabie proposition excited much disgust. A ro i ajo en. peenees Saeetee lie | their dividends, was lust mned, in which the hero tries to get ay ont of A i] te : e season thus hosts heseily congratulating: Sie of reckless and disregard day has es ee ie CONTROVERSY FOR CHRISTMAS. Acxwow.epetnG, and raving at, the “immense success” of the Protestant Missions in Connaught and Kerry, the Nation indignantly | | “Shall the soupers and tract distributors accomplish the work which all the force of England, for 300 years, has been unable to effect ?’’ Theological controversies, at these particular holidays, are considered | to be, in general, out of season; but there is one species of polemical argument which certainly > oS pases Sey Seca. [t is the sort of logic which so dreadfully offends the Nation newspaper, whilst it is 80 satisfactory to the Irish nation; demonstration to the stomach. It seems to be very convinci no wonder. Feeding the hungry is no bad method on the part of any Christian denomination to recom- | | Juuiren’s, for since Da, Rai has been let loose, it is not wonderful | liar! | and contains a mock ; | friend ~—— t .. was really comic, and being interlarded sc cro’ misapp exci | om oakine be | LL.D, and A. were felt to be s that people prefer dominoes to draughts. The only noticeable thing was the termination to the first act, which has been “ written » by Solomon Serious (WALPOLE) te great legitimate mirth. A hrase in which . is complimenting Benny, describes im as being continually snub and kicked by his superiors (conten- dere notilitate &? will beas stock a joke as any of those of Dr. Pangloss, On Tuesday the house was better, and the piece went with some spirit, though there was a manifest desire to get through it as quickly as ssible. Mz. Gepanam, as the Hon. Boa Constrictor, delivered his earlier its with great oiliness, and when he had his unlucky antagonist com- pletely in his power, the coup de grace was given very crushingly. We | wish GranaM would get rid of bis north-country accent, his broad “ a” is objectionable in acharacter of refinement. This evening Pakiseton came out pretty well as Sir Quarter Sessions, whieh is about what he is aA. and the class of part for which he has obtained a provincial celebrity. Wednesday there was a morning performance, for the benefit of the Irish Lunatic Association, and its charitable character exempts it from criticism. Indeed, Narrer, for his “double shufile,” danced on = Irish newspaper, deserved notice, and he received it—in fact, notice nit. ut Thursday brought the eventful night. The managers again thrust The Budget before the public, and the latter was finally arouse into stern, but most just imdignation. The exceeding and utter badness and immorality of the piece, now that the actors were all well up in their was startlingly manifest. The sentiments inculcated ing. Many of these, with the hope of smartening the sop of of mince pie; and a string of ventrem, or address to the gastric region, always Christmas so legitimate an expedient of prose- by the argumentum ad cutem; the appeal to surface of the body. Coals and blankets, in short, will be found companions to beef and pudding. Zeal, to be efficacious, impart warmth. With this remark we will dismiss the subject of controversy, having suggested food for serious discussion, which probably will be smoking hot. iti a 80 rnd and about lytism, may be reinforced the integument, or Christmas Presents. Of these the most remarkable this year are :— Paesence oy Marren—at the Christmas Cattle Shows. And Presence or Minp—in Punch’s Almanack ! ! / Tza any Tuny-ovt.—Dispaz1i's Budget.

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bdeaks Ara

_ PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL

antes Net “3 1

eye Ne AN AFFAIR OF IMPORTANCE. Harrie. “Om! 1’ 80 GLap You are comg, Biancnze! I Have PERPLEXED | coup maRDLY SiesP att Nieurt.” Blanche, “ Wert! wwat 1s yt, Dean?” Harrie. “Wary, I poy’? KNOW WHETHER prock Viotet on Dark Brive!” ait i ity ti ats TO HAVE MY NEW PAROCHIAL PARLIAMENTS. Tepe are one or two suburban Mega wate want “ smash- is no questioning i righ ve men to busy | tres taxation, the eet or| men or any other su tans Go: ee we Ge a but, Soe hone, nse ter ou cag nt ta are pace asa Poteet ted to mind the oat nei prepa ype: Sg lebone, Bann is to say, hial | —limits. We cannot allow the ae to go & teeaing ate a standing one in the newspapers. and another still succeeds ” so rapidly, that to talk of the i SS eae i are going on at rate one every ridiculous. Mar. Hiren, the astronomical does the police duty of the skies, has recorded the result of the “information he has i Times of last Thursday. He proposes to give i the title of Tuaita, from which fact we presume that the star | seems suited to shine in Comedy. We are has ‘been made in time for our old friend A i the “Galaxy” sd cbisustton thet chim fecth te bie ammval |Orrery. The only difficulty will be now to make room for ail | the new stars on the v faa age is Sa, Se they are usually exhibi THE SATED ONE. (Impromptu after Christmas Dinner.) It may not be— £0, Nor tempt me to yore Bog I once could dance beneath its = But must not, will not, cannot, now ! A weight—a load within [bear ; It is not madness, nor despair ; Bat I require to be at rest So that my burden may—digest

An Easy Explanation. | Tat which Ma, Dasrazui calls “the area of direct | taxation” is the Area attached to yourown private residence : ithe “direct taxation” being the leg of mutton which mys- teriously walks off directly a policeman enters it. | — SAUCE FOR YANKEE SLAVE-OWNERS.

Soren has become so imbued with the of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. that he has invented a new fauce, . out of ristened “ The Tom-Martyr.” — | Feapect to Mus. Srowg, he has ch Guory vos Grazters.—The Crystal Palace at Sydenham MERINO | he be a monument of what human industry cam accomplish by ing panes.

| the task could be mare enue We have no pe on eh to > members in their capacity of citizens having voices of public matters, and expressing their ‘the cheandlg prope tines proper p! oy but we cannot consent to the he eopasty legislators, and thus evineing their incapacity as ara The eames ve vestry-room is continually debate about so —_— eenlly bappen tal there vt de ee Ee it not oe io tn tatesdhinigs of rsonal abuse, in the course of men’s tmthority im set st noaght. Mr. Y, Senior, gi ae a*! lie to Mu. Somezopy, Junior; the retor is voted out of ehair, Ma. Nosopr is voted into it, and everybody abuses everybody else, for the purpose of setting an cumole to the neteranins We quite age with ibe notion that the bone Vestry should po mage on 6 of, and we shall feel edaetsanty oh the i if the aan aty and folly that have hilly bese vo dlegesting’y to en oa are mech lone r persisted in.

i The Triumph of Sinepevenee. Tae lovers and advocates of Temperance need only look at the present size of the Quart and Pint Measures to be convinced of the gradual decrease of drinking in this country. OF THE SAME CAST OF MIND. We are informed tek, ont of coneinen t to the Empznoz Naporzow III, every French cannon and b is for the future to be | stamped with the following inscription—“* Mr Voicz 1s rom Pgacs.” UnsrasniomasLe Anyouncement. — Gentlemen interested in the reduction of the price of Beer are oe inieaned then Mn, Demansto Paste (invited to Pot Luck) is unavoidably postponed. ' Tue Reat Borriz Coxsunox.—Oae who can extract two pints , from a quart bottle of wine.

the scene of some |

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r r * ’ tS) Or, The Bottle that Requires Looking Into. N H PI BRITL ‘| 4 THE 7 } _ _ f a 2 = : f — . 1 ty — q : ro ‘ gar || / Fh 4s = vi S| —— |e J ———" FF f ————— A = : = . eS ‘s — Z : = ae 72 =a — \ Ss c K > P DzcemBrR 25, 1852.

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Anp-zt-Kaper a Frenchman, 228 Agricuitural 5 Agroultural Sweaters, 62 Alarming Inundation, 267 Amarum Aliquid, 224 American Digestion, 124 And now, a word about Nelson, 244 Another French Miracle, 128 “ Another New Planet,” 270 Apology, 175 Aquatic Intelligence, 257 Arch Amendment (An), 176 Archeological Association (The), 96 Archzeologist’s Progress (The), 11! As clear as the Nose on your Face, 44 As unlike as Chatk and Cheese, 157 Ass in a Leopard’s Skin (An), 71 Association of Ideas, 20 Atrocious Attack on a Badger, 163 * August Infant” (The), 112 Auld Lang Syne, 112 Aari Sacra Fames, 207 Australia In-felix, 83 Austrian Heaven (An), 202 B—r—p Correspondence (The), 107 Babe at a Bull Fight (A), 52 Bad Look-Out for Butchers (A), 68 Ball at Mr. Disraeli’s Foot (The), 143 Balioon News, 143 Balloon Showing its Airs (A), 34] Banquet of Civic Snades (A), 214 Bar and its Prospects (The), 210 Beauty of Contrast (The), 128 Bells upon my Mind, 265 Benjamin with Two Sides (A), 216 Betty’s Betting Book, 107 Bill- Stickers Beware, 202 Bishop in a Gig (A), 216 “ Blue Pig” to Mr. Punch (The), 206 Bold Empiric (A), 183 Bottle Trick (The), 187 Boulevard du Crime (The) 167 Bradshaw’s Metaphysics, 151 British and Foreign Quacks, 154 Casman’s Gratitude (A), 264 Cc d *s Catech (The), 40 Cardinal’s English, 103 Cases for Compensation, 239 Catnach in the Drawing-Room, 94 Chamberlain and the Ciowns (Tne), 224 Chancery on the Go, 174 Charge, Landlords, Charge, 52 Chariey ’s my Darling, 145 Cheap as Scotch Dirt, 188 Chicory and Chicanery, 248 “Children Must be Paid for,”’ 1 Children’s Playful Rhymes, 142 Chinese Court Circular (The), 193 Cloak of Religion (The), 112 Cockersdaie Chemistry, 188 Coidness of the Weather in Paris, 108 Comic Cahill (The), 246 Controversy for Christmas, 269 Corn Measure, 13 Country Going to the Dogs (The), 61 Countryman at Cambridge (A), 213 Coart of In-justice (A), 148 Critical Moments, 224 Criticism with a Vengeance, 239 Cruel Case (A), 153 Crusade against England, 127 Crystal Palace of the People (The), 195 Curates in Old Clothes, 256 | Curious Prophecy Fulfilled, 268 | (Danctne) Master of France (The), 195 Dawn of Art in the City (The), 50 Defences of the City (The), 227 Deluge of Nonsense (A), 67 Demise of Doe and Roe (The), 49, 73 Derby and Dizzy at Astiey’s, 210 Derby Election Ditty, 68 Derby Lullaby (The), 40 Derby Prophecy (A), 127 Derby Voter's Soliloquy, 66 Deserted Farmer, 239 Devastation from the Clouds, 113 “ Devouring Element ’’ (The), 122 Dialogue in the Reporter’s Gallery, 41 Different Vehicles of Government, 247 Diogenes Beresford, 227 Disagreeabie Rattie (A), 128 Dismal Look-Out for Protection, 32 | Disraeli’s Right M@nd, 203 | Display of Scoliardship (A), 2! | Dispute with Britain (The), 102 Distressed Bailiff’s Home (The), 75 Doing a Good for an Evil Turn, 240 Doubie Dealings, 64 Double-faced Ministry (The), 71 Doubtful Point (A), 51 Downing Street Deluge (The), 63 Dr. M‘Hale in London, 163 Drink—then Criticise, 174 Dublin Review (The), 137 Duchess’s Own Doctor (The), 131 Dael in Westminster Hall (A), 14 Duet for the Lawyer's Office, 45 Duke of York’s Colamn The), !17 Duke's Last Honours (The), 229 EaatTaquaxs Explained (The), 237 Echo answers ** When!" 141 | Economy in Royal Salates, 96 Education Trade Report, 266 Eiection Anacreontic, |7 Elections more Free than Welcome, 36 Empire of Beadledom (The), 201, 207, 217, 245, 255, &c., &c. Employment of Paupers at Elections, 29 End of Life (The), 96 End of the Whistonian Controversy, 189 * Eaglish Don’t Kaow How to Themselves” (The), 82 | Epitaph for a Stockbroker, 123 Epitaph on a Locomotive, 153 Eve of St. Gay (The), 187 Every Man His Own 4 Exchange. A Robbery, Expensive Favours, 84 Extraordinary Circle (Ap), 22 Extraordinary Noctarnal Balloon Ascent, | 126 Extremely Pretty, 40 | Faction in Shoe Lane, 246 Faded Prospects, 105 Pair Rosamond, 749 False Hebrew’s False Jewels Family Anacreontics, 236 Fancy Dress Hunt (A), 234 | Pare versus the Cabman (The), 22 Parmer and the Acrobats, 29 Farewell to Jullien (A), 250 Pat of the Land in Baker Street, 260 Father Thames’ Epitaph, 128 Festivities at Osborne, 124 Fifty Thousand Cares, 116 Fire! Fire! 105 The), 133 Fireworks for the French Nation, 104 Flunkeyism io France, 167 Fogie Family Papers (The), 136 Fool! Fool! Fool! 56 | Forensic Fix (A), 93 Freaks of Father Thames (The), 239 French Jack Sheppard (The), 163 Fresh Symptoms of the New-mania, 193 | Future Rulers of France (The), 192 Gertiemen’s Seats to be Let, 32 Genteel Breach of the Peace, 265 Gin Palace, |! Ginger Beer from the Fountain, 78 | Glass of Friendship with France (A), 253 | Gold Fever (The), 95 Gold in England, 111 Gold Mine of Advertisements A), 88 Golden Dreams, 7 Golden Rage (The), 31 | Great Asylum Balloon Ascent, 151! | Great Baby Case (The), 122 Great Balloon Cease (A), 146 Great Mistake (A), 53 Great Parliamentary Feat, 208 Great Tom (Fools) of Lincola (The), 246 Great Waiter Question (The), 82 Greek against Greek, 161 Grievances of the Church, 244 Harry Expression (A), 184 Hard Work at the Font, 266 Height of German Romance (The), 253 Here are Your Fine Old Prejudices, 218 Hero of the Hastings (The), 33 Heroes in Blue, 113 | Hint Worth any Money (A), 227 Hints to Servants when the Family is Out of Town, )64 Hints to Young Yachtamen, 45, 67, 91 Homage to Pasizzi, 7! Homage to the Inflexible, 247 Hooded Snakes, 197 Horses and the Mal-de-Mer, 123 Housemaid’s Jubilee (A), 191 How not to be Recognised by Your Creditors, 44 How to Braise Your Oats, 148 How to Finish a Daughter, 161 How to Fix Tar, 56 How to 103 How to Make one Dizzy, 98 ton, 250 Human Kittens and Blind Puppies, 65 | Human The), 168 cen ee 738 Hymen aod Napoleon, 14) Hymen t. 213 Hymns for 142 | Iw a state of Astonishment, 4 In Vino Veritas, ig4 Income-Tax Blacidated (The), 266 incorrigible River (The), 56 Insensibility to Famine, 44 Int tions for the Million, 184 Ireland for the Irish, 158 [rish Craniology, 126 Irish How! at a Hero’s Wake (An), 147 | Irish Revolution, 23 Jenwnea-osiry in a Young Lady, 77 \Jesait’s Bark, 124 \|Joha Ball’s New Troubles, 227 joke All Hot (A), 81 oly Barristers (The), 123 ust as we Expected, 196 Just the Term for it, 10 | Justice to Lucas, 226 Justice to Shee, 209 Kino Word with Jonathan (A), 98 | King Cholera to his Liege Friends in England, 138 | Kitchen Cavers, 92 | } | | La SacerTre at Home, 20! Lament about Astiey’s (A), 172 | Lament on the Deaths of John Doe and | Richard Roe, 53 Lap of Luxury (The), 159 Large Returns and Smal! Profits, 34 Last giimpse of the Mons (The), 208 Last Kicks of Puffery (The), 98 Last Love of France (The), 164 Law Militant (The), 66 Lay of the Rabbie (The), 66 Leading Men in the City (The), 192 Legal Latient (A), 209 Legal Season (The), 294 Letters from the Dead to the Living, 1977, 223, 233, &e. Letting the Cat Out, 183 Liberal “‘ Rope of Sand " (The), 171 Lines Composed on the Bridge of the Serpentine, 152 Lines on Amalgamation, 101 Lines on the Demise of Doe, 176 Literary Flea Bite (A), 162 Long Pull and a Strong Pull (A), 52 Looking to the Main Chacce, 74 | Loomer! a Sybil !! and a Seer!!! les Lord Frankfort in Prison Gray, 259 Maori of the Exchequer (The), 220 Maidstone, the “‘ Unknown,” 40 Maidstone v. Macaulay, 216 Maidstone’s Flood (of Eloquence), 4! Man who ought not to Emigrate (The 113 | Manchester Crusade (The), 116 Marseilles Plot (Tne), |7% Master who knows his Workmen (A), 87 Matrimonial Biology, 43 Maxims for the Betting- Book, 143 Mayor's Daily Bread (A), 166 Meteorological Intelligence, 62 Ministerial After - White - Bait - Dioner Jokes, 23 Miss Violet and Her Offers, 2, 12, 24, 60 66, 76, 98, &e. Misusing the Queen's English, 174 Moighty Misthake (A), 156 Monody on Protection, 62 Monsieur Commanique, 41 Mooreish Lallaby (A), 254 Moore’s Utopia, 112 Moral Philosophy for the Boudoir, 127 Morais of the Digging», 226 More Cariosities of Advertising Litera- ture, 84 Mosses from an Old Cathedral, 64 Mr. G. F. Young’s Wonderful Goose, | Mr. Punch’s Yale Log, 208 Mrs. Gamp and the Government, 234 Mrs. Gamp called in, 259 Much of a Machness, 47 Maddy Matinée (A), 4 Mudiark of Philanthropy, 66 My Heart's at Newmarket, 166 My Voice is for Peace, 175 Mysterious Disturbances in Street, 145 Downing |

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Dnathe ee a ee ee q i { f INDEX. Ne Begney Beenpe of Disraeli, 246 tional Bethiehem (The), 725 Notional Char 147 Naval Courts-Partial, 1 Naval Nursery Rhymes, 131 Ambassador New Chair for Oxford (A), 148 New Exhibition (A), 198 New Hand-Book for Italy, 19 New Lamp (The), 136 New Pattern for Manchester (A), 192 News from Verona, 121 No Love Lost, 3 No National Defences, ‘No One coc ean He's Well Of,” 101 Not the Slightest Doubt about it, 164 Nagget-Hunters at Home, 266 Narsery Rhymes for the Diggings, 13 Ook on the Irish Elections, 63 Old Opera Story (The), 4 Oldest Established Prophet (The), 13 On a Vote, 3 One of our Wooden Walls, 86 One of the Martyrs of Science, 134 One of the Results of Ballooning, )34 One who is Deserving of a Monument, 63 Only « Fair Question, 112 Only Care for Ireland (The), 111 Our Capers at the Cape, 125 « “Oar Critie” among the Pictures, 7, 17, 22, &e. Our Dog Day Namber, 51 Our Opera Box, 9 Our Stars end Garters, 264 Outfit for Ten Guineas (An), 184 Oxford Honours, D.C.L. Paum Taues of Paris (The), 96 Parochial Parliaments, 270 Pancras Paupers and Politics, 30 Panic in the Dramatic Market, 236 Pastomime of Protection (The), 227 Perliamentary Races, 93 Passionist Youth’s Complaint (The), 12 ‘* Peace and Plenty ’'—of Noise, 235 Peace and War—Hot and Cold, —. Pearis of the ve Court, }! Peel in the ation 76 Peep into the ey ‘s Palace (A), 83 Penal Empiriciem, 3 People’s Crystal a (The), 7 People’s Sunday School (The), | « of bis Rank Cpa a thropy and Postage Stamps, 198 Piecards for Plain Dealers, 33 aay Sporting M, P., \8 i the Main, 33 = my aT, 191 Row Opera i Pies for Herne Bay (A), 53 er dg Pleasant Way Home (A), 6% | Ranaway Engines, 164 Poetry of Finance (The), 207 Rapert’s Ride to the Country, 34 Potice Staff (The), 44 | SapeaTaRian Tit for Tat, 13 eS nee, 162 Sabbatarians at Sion College, 195 Courtship, 20 Sated One (The), 27 Poor Living, 194 Scene on the Austrian Frontier, 93 Popular Play-hours, 9 | Sea-Side Airs, 121 Precious Member for Meath (The), #1 | % bie In President and the Press (The), 72 | Sertous Christuons President's (The), 1 | Sermon for Dogs (A), 46 Pretty Kettle of Fish (A), Serpent for the Pope’s Brass Band, 35 Pretty Place at Tanbridge Wells (A), 254 | Seven Fools, 175 fre Beg ope | | Sheep in Sunday Trains, 207 Primrose Hill Gold Silver Mining | Shoebiack’s Holiday (The), 103 Printing Pi SO ean | Sighe of the Pat = ress in Chancery (The),193 9 Pro- Leader, 105 Sighs of a Fat Policeman (The), 204 Professor , 255 | Sir Fitzroy Weasel Kelly, 51 a. Progressive Politics, 36 | Sir (Hercules) Fitzroy Kelly, ! Provincial Fancy, 42 Smali- Pox and Free-Trade Sheep, 225 Punch on the Baby, 202 Smoked to Death, 102 Panch on the Hair, }9: Solly in our Alley, 125 Punch om the Playhouse, 171 | Some Account of my Travels, 146 Punch Passes Sentence, | 03 | Some Really Odious Comparisons, 65 Punch’s Police Court, 75 Song of the Night (A), 267 Panning in the Provinces, | | Sovereignty of the City, 236 Patting Moonshine into veer Pocket, | Special Trains for a Pretty Sigh’, 35 4 | Specimens of the Deluge. 92 Pyramid of Bad Jokes (A), 227 | Specalative Sympathy, 167 Quant-Borris Trick Made Easy (The), Spirit of the Till (The), 75 233 Sqaeak for the British Drama (A), 91 Queen of the Gugenter Plot (The), 97») Standing on his Rights—and Lefts, 201 Queen of the Sea (The) 65 Stanzas to Pale Ale, 46 Question to Mr. Smythe (A), 238 Star of the French Stage (The), 134 Questions for Candidates, 25 Still he Goes Up, Up, Up,” 11 | Quiddam Honorariam, Street Performers and Crushers, 9 | Rasecez Catechism for M.P.’s (A), 55 Strike, but Hear, 94 Rabbie Catechism for the Rabbie (A), 55 | Sabmarine Dialogue (A), 234 Railway Gilpin (The), 173 Railway Intelligence, 113 Railway Nursery Rhymer (The), )57 Railway of Life (The), 152 Railway 209 Rap or Two at Derby (A), 237 Rather Poetical, but Quite True, 256 248 | Sweet Little Creature (A), 264 | Swords into Sickles, 134 | Tapce-Tacx for the Times 92 | Tule of a Horse (The), 152 | Tale of a Tight Garter, 157 Reductlo « Maintenance (The), 134 243, 247, &c. a — (A), 61 d Class, 132 Sheen for ~ yg Circles, 10 ligious Rendering up oe | 220 | Things that should Emigrate, 62 “ Those Odious Epithets,” 249 Thoughts about Money, 21 | Tickled by a Straw, 235 here 31 | Ticklish Point (A), 217 Reverend he (A), 26 Revolving Man ), 42 Revolutionary , 198 | Tipping a Wink, 174 To Australia for a Shilling, 148 To Married Men, 134 LONDON: BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS. | Sasceptibilities of Foreigners (The) 226, | Tapping a Beer Barrel for the Truth, 13 Theatre Royal, Westminster, 219, 235, | Foe tor Menataye ats | Travelling | There’s no such Word as Impossible, 223 1k Tarn of a Hair (The), Thro Fall Moons in « Month, 1% - (The), 198 | Una Voce Poco Fa, 46 Unele Bull’s Cribbing, 135 Threepence te om— a Head, 166 (An). 18! VANITY versas elon, 71 Vegetable Very Solemn Question (A), 263 Vision of Convocation (A), 205 Vision of St. Patrick, his Purgatory (The), 198 Wace of the Party (A), 61 Walking the Railways, 115 “Was that Th 7” “Mo! it was only Jullien’s Opera,” 106 Watering-Place Yarn (A), 198 W. B. and § 's Clock, 258 We beg to Second the haentnent, 141 | We Don’t Relieve a Word of it, 65 We Forbid the Banns, 67 Weather Market (The), 133 Wedding Morning (A), 165 Wellington, 135 Whale with the Toothache (A), 183 What Constitutes an Earthquake? 218 What Divides the Sexes? A Razor, 155 What I saw at the Pawnbroker’s, 93 What is an Engagement? 9 What the Celt Does, and What the Saxon Does, 194 What I saw at the Digsings, 25 What is “‘ Gammon? | When Wag Meets Wes, - Who Wants a Secret? 265 Who Wants Whiskers? 121 Who'd be a Sheriff? = Who’s Your Friend? 223 te Don’t you Speak Out? 146 isdom of Wiseacres (The), 137 | Wien Worthy of Alexander (A), 2 | Word for Excursion Trains (A), 134 | Worser than the Worsest (A), 237 Worth any Money, 161 Ye Fatan of Orders Blacke, 24 | Ye Gentlemen of Engiand, 254 ZooLoaicat Recreations, 85 By a Scotchman who | 8

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